No matter how dusty the outside, the room is not even a speck of dust. The bed and sheets remained clean. The position of the cabinet and other things is still the same as before. I suppressed my sobs because of the portrait hanging. The portrait is of me with a big belly of mine.
I thought back then, the loss of our baby did not hurt Randall. I thought then I was the only one who was very sad because he didn’t show me he was hurt; he didn’t show me it was painful to lose our baby. Or maybe he showed up, but I just didn’t look because I was busy thinking I was the only one hurt. That I am the only one who knows. Have I been selfish in everything that has happened to us? Did I become selfish because of the decisions I made?
I could no longer suppress my voice. The sobs escape my lips and I got on my knees as Randle slept in my arms. Randle’s clothes were wet because of my tears. I would love to go back to Randall, but I am afraid that the terrible memories that happened to us will just happen again. So far, in the few years, we haven’t met, nothing has changed. No one grew. We are all still captives of the past. It’s scary that Charlotte might still be my son’s opponent.
When I was about to get up and wipe away the tears, Randle woke up. When he looked at me with eyes that were no different from his father’s, my crying got louder. He wiped away the tears that flowed one after another. His eyes wanted to cry, but he held back. Is that how your father looked when we left him?
“Mom … Why … Cry?” The last word he said was like asking. I sniffed to stop the tears in my eyes. I arranged my hair with one hand because the other was still holding Randle.
“No. Something into mommy’s eyes.” We finally went out and closed the door. No matter how I look at the house, it is very dirty. So I wonder how the room is cleaned.
As we descended the stairs, an old woman entered with a broom and rag. She looked at us, then smiled. She walked slowly, then spoke to us. I thought no one is longer using this house?
“Are you Sir Randall’s wife?” She smiled at us, and Randle looked at her as well. I don’t know what to say. It seems awkward every time someone asks if I am Randall’s wife because we’ve been separated for so long. I left him the divorce papers with my signature. All he had to do was sign them.
“I was. Now, we are separated.” I smiled at her sparingly and was about to leave so she could not ask again. However, she speaks again. I’m not irritated. I’m just burdened with Randle because I’ve been carrying him since earlier.
“Are you the one in the portrait above?” She stared at me carefully before her eyes widened. “That’s you! Sir Randall has been waiting for you for a long time! I’m sorry if I say too much.” She looked at Randle.
“You are the one he says is his wife who went abroad. It’s a pity … it looks like you’re married to someone else. Hehe.” She scratched her head so hard when she said that. I looked at her in surprise. How can she say I was married to someone else?
She picked up the broom she was holding earlier and then ready to pass to us, but I stopped her. “How can you say I have already married someone?”
I don’t have a new husband. The relationship never entered my mind again because I was already busy with Randle. It’s just amazing that over time, someone has thought like this.
“I was just new here when I heard Sir Randall crying while drunk. Hugging the portrait hanging in a room.” Her face suddenly became sad and then she looked at me as if pitying. “He apologizes for the picture and tries to blame himself for the loss of your child. So maybe he made that portrait.”
It was as if something had stuck in my throat. I didn’t know what to say because of what she said. Why, as time goes on, it seems more and more like I became selfish when I left Turkey? While thinking, she spoke again.
“You said that he used to be your husband. You lost your child and now you have a child with you.” Instead of being annoyed by what she said, they seemed to slap me.
“But you know, ma’am, there’s always a woman-”
We both jumped in panic. A loud shout startled even Randle. It roared throughout the household because of the excessive force. The old woman could not continue what she was going to say because maybe out of fear.
“NANA CELIA! HAVE YOU DONE WHAT I SAID?” He still didn’t stop shouting, so I hugged Randle because he was starting to cry. I looked sharply at Randall to say he had to stop, but he just resisted my gaze.
“What are you doing in my house?” I don’t care about the coldness of his voice. I don’t care about that, even his blue eyes are a good match for the coldness of his eyes, but it was as if a dagger had pierced my heart when he said “MY HOUSE”
I knew I had nothing to complain about because I was the one who said it was his house. That he can do anything, that he can invite anyone-
but no.
When the woman entered the door from behind him, I wanted to say that he wasn’t just the owner.
This is OUR house.