The midnight sky was darker than ever and the day hadn’t been much clearer. As it blew, the wind carried with it all that had made her happy. She was standing by the window, staring at the empty side of the bed. His slippers weren’t by its side and his clothes weren’t in the wardrobe. The presence of his absence could be felt in the air. Her eyes were red as if she had been crying and their look was lost. Although she had always been a strong woman, she seemed to be broken now. Her long black hair was tied in a messy braid and she was still wearing her baggy pyjamas. She knew she wouldn’t sleep that night, either.
The previous night, she was sitting at the end of the bed when he arrived at nine in the evening. No fireplace could appease the coldness of that night. The whole house resembled a cemetery, where death could be smelled. Death and loneliness. At the moment she heard his steps going upstairs, she stood up facing the door. When their eyes met nothing had to be said. They both knew what was going on, but neither he nor she were capable of uttering a word. There wasn’t any that could end their despondency. Feeling extremely sad, he ran towards her and held her tight, as if it was the last time he would hug her. He started to cry and scream desperately by the time he was squeezing her tiny body, but she didn’t move. She wouldn´t do anything.
Some hours later they were both lying on the bed, one next to the other. Their bodies were adjacent, but not their souls. No talking, no touching, no hearts beating. It felt as if they were alone although they were physically together. Although time and place were shared, it was as if they were in different dimensions. Two complete strangers were probably closer than them. After midnight, she felt when he got up and started to take things out of the wardrobe and from some drawers. Then, he placed a suitcase on the bed and put everything there. She could feel his penetrating look staring at her; however, she still pretended to be asleep. Suddenly his warm and dry lips touched her forehead for a long second. Afterwards, he left the room carrying his suitcase and her dreams. The sound of the car’s engine gave her chills but she kept on the same position, straight, as if she were an unanimated object. No feelings, no movement, no heart.
She spent the night awake on bed until the alarm clock rang at seven in the morning. It was gray and cloudy outside, and there were no clues from the sun. As usual, she got up, put her slippers on, switched the lights on, went to the bathroom and brushed her teeth. Then, she went to the contiguous room which was, as always, empty. Nobody had slept there, and nobody would. After giving a disappointing glance at it, she closed the door and led her skeleton downstairs. While she was entering the kitchen, it started to rain. She turned on the coffee maker and walked to the front door. It was opened, revealing an extensive garden. She realized her roses had withered and remembered why she had sown them. She decided to remove the plant as soon as the rain stopped. There was no reason to keep the flowers alive. Everything she had loved had ended up either leaving or dying. The coffee was ready, so she got in, poured it and placed it on the table. She sat on a chair while staring at the steaming black liquid in front of her. Soon, the steam and the coffee will have gone, too. It reminded her of her mother, who used to prepare coffee for breakfast every morning when she was a teenager. Her mother always gave her the same piece of advice together with her cup of coffee: that she had to follow her dreams. And she had done that, but maybe they weren’t the right ones. Then, she thought of the last time she had seen her father. She had forsaken everything the moment she fell in love. College, her job, her family, her friends, even her personality was put aside in order to become a devoted housewife. She left everything to become the perfect mother for her unborn child. But now she was alone, she had nothing to fight for. There wasn’t any plan B. A tear rolled down her left cheek, then another one followed. It had been years since the last time she had cried. She couldn’t show weakness to anybody, but now, there wasn’t anybody to show or to hide anything from. She thought of the empty house, the empty side of the bed, the empty wardrobe, the empty cradle, her empty womb...how strange and painful it was. She stood up, picked up the phone and sat down again. It took her a few moments to decide whether to do it or not. She did it. Her father’s phone number was dialed. Nobody answered. She hung up and tasted the coffee. It was awful. The rain started to pour even more heavily, and so did her weeping. She just kept on crying all day long. Crying over a cup of coffee.
