She stormed out of the room. She was fuming with anger. He had no right to behave so rudely with her. Her mind searched for the justifications, hoping to find one excuse to forgive him. And then, she realized that searching for justifications wasn’t being she. That was him. That was him, she repeated to herself. She never tried to justify everything around her. That was him. She never tried to justify every wrong as right, from someone else’s point of view. That was him. She never tried to find something good in the ugliest of things. That was him. Her anger only came back in a bigger surge. He could not treat her like this. Why did he? It wasn’t justified.
She threw the things back at him. She noticed that he lay crawled up in a corner of the bed, almost shaking. She chose not to consider it. His anger was his disease. He had no right to let it affect her.
A flashback came to her mind. He had thrown a bottle of deodorant at the wall, and the bottle had got dented. He sat on the side of the bed, shaking uncontrollably. She walked up to him, and stood in front of him. He looked up at her eyes, with innocent guilt in his torturous eyes. She brought her face close to him, and, gave a tiny pinch on his nose. “You look more attractive when you’re angry”, she said, and kissed him on his nose. He flung his arms around her and held her tightly. He cried. She kissed him. He had calmed down like magic, within minutes. He had apologized, repeatedly.
Once again, she chose not to consider it. She can't let her mind find anything in his favor, not anymore. He can’t expect her to have anything left for her at all, after such rough abusing. She looked back at the shaking body on the bed, just once, before turning back, and storming out. She went outdoors.
A pub was open down the street. She walked in, hoping to get a beer, even at this late hour. She hoped the beer would help her to feel sleepy enough, to pass the night off, somehow. This was the first time. She had never come here without him. She went to the bar and ordered her drink. The bartender knew her face, and gave a questioning look at her strange state of "not being accompanied by him". Worse, she was not smiling and laughing, like every other day.
She broke into a hysterical laugh, in response to his look. He was taken aback, and sat opposite her, as he served the mug of beer. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll close the place. You can take the mug and go outside for some air, if you want.”
“Oh. Okay. Fine.”
She went out with the mug in her hand. She imagined herself looking like a lunatic lady on the road at night. The man at the bar came out no sooner, and joined her. He put his coat around her, just like she was used to, only, by someone else.
“I can’t take it anymore. He throws tantrums every week, over little things. I’ve given up on him. I can’t be his doctor. I am his wife. I can’t take it anymore.”
She broke into hysterical laughs-with-tears. He put his arms around her. She continued.
“I’ve always tried to understand him. But, he has crossed his limits. I can’t be immune to injuries forever. I have broken down. He has broken me. I can’t be with him, if he continues to be this way forever.”
“So, why are you with him? You deserve someone better.”
The very words seemed to hit her like lightning. She had never given any one the right to tell her what to do. Anyone, but him, the one back there in her bedroom. Who was this man? Flabbergasted, she stopped and looked up at the man’s face. Yes, she knew this face. She has seen him almost every day, she realized. Yet, she felt, as if, she was seeing him for the first time, tonight. She peered deep into his eyes. Wait, she thought, she had never looked at this man, right at the eyes, ever before.
The man turned to look at her in full length. He looked at her with intensity in his eyes; he tried to transfer some meaning it seemed, through the very eye contact in that moment. He took her face in his hands, and pulled it closer. She didn’t resist. He kissed her on the mouth.
“You deserve someone better.”
She stood there stiff. He tugged at her hand; her eyes still stared at the man. He pulled her lightly; she didn’t resist. She was led to his car, like some animal obediently follows its master. She gradually came back to senses, and tried to find sense in what was happening. The engine of the car started. She found herself sitting beside the man. Her mind was racing. The insults thrown at her some time back, came back to her. She remembered worse incidents; a glass being broken, a bottle of her nail-polish being thrown out of the window, a door handle being broken out, and more and more violence.
She remembered a number of things. She didn’t remember anything else.
She looked at the man beside her once again, as the car raced through the empty streets. This time, she smiled at him. He touched her hand and pressed it gently. He returned her smile.
She didn’t remember anything else.