"are you hungry?" he called out, "i'm almost done here, ok?" he then went on to set the table for two, the scent of pork & vegetables in tamarind broth filling the kitchen. "hey, let's eat! come on out," he called out again. there was no answer. he gave the table one last look and went to the room.
looking inside, he saw her sitting on the floor with her back resting on the edge of the bed. "let's eat," he said again, "table's ready. come on, while it's hot." he stood at the door watching her, waiting for an answer.
she remained motionless. he walked towards her and softly touched her shoulder. "let's eat..." he whispered, "...i've cooked your favorite."
she shook her head. "i am not hungry..."
biting his lips, he reached for her arms and pulled her up. "come on," he said as he pushed her towards the kitchen, "after lunch we'll take the baby out for a stroll in the park. where would you want to go?"
"i know..." he said answering his own question, "we'll take her to the bay and then hear mass after. then we'll pass by the galleria..." he started filling her plate.
she simply sat, looking at the plateful of food in front of her while he started eating. the kitchen was silent, except for the sound of spoon and fork screeching on porcelain.
"excuse me," she finally said, "i'm going back to the room."
"but you haven't touched your food yet..." he started, but she was already heading back towards the bedroom door. he stared opposite the empty chair in front of him for a moment, spoon and fork in mid-air. then he heard the door close behind her.
emptying the last morsel of food on his plate, he started clearing the table and placed all the dishes in the sink. there was this strange, all-encompassing stillness. he could almost hear the sound of quietness and it scared him.
minutes later, he sat on the doorstep puffing on a cigarette. she had been quiet for several weeks now. she would not even look at him. he felt a stabbing pain in his chest -- a sob. he knew it was his fault.
she was lively then, her laughter a shrill sound echoing the kitchen as she worked. his mind wandered to the times when she would suddenly sit on his lap, or when she would embrace him from behind and kiss him on the neck. he didn't know how much those gestures meant to him till now. his relatives often told him he found himself a good wife. even his not-so-decent-friends said so, too. he knew that, of course, that was why he felt so safe and secure. so secure that he had forgotten.
he slowly stood up and went inside. he could hear a faint sound coming from the bedroom as he neared. carefully placing his ear next to the door, he listened... she was laughing and their daughter was making wonderful baby sounds. he smiled and pushed the door open.
when she saw him, she picked the baby up and said, "come baby, let's play outside." he looked at her as they walked past him.
he spent the whole afternoon watching them from the window. she was her lively self, he noticed. wearily, he sat down on the couch and turned the tv on. gradually, the images on the screen got blurrier and blurrier...
he suddenly opened his eyes. the tv was still on but the room was dark. 7:55 pm. where are they? he looked around, alarmed. walking briskly towards the bedroom, he peeped inside. she was was on the bed, lying on her side. he heaved a sigh of relief.
quietly and carefully, he walked to her side and sat on the floor. "i'm sorry..." he started, "i'm sorry for everything. i will never hurt you again, promise."
he began to stroke her hair. "i love you... i miss you very much. come back to me. please!"
he waited for an answer but there was none. not a stir or the slightest movement. though she kept her eyes closed, he knew she was awake. he moved his face closer to hers, feeling her breath on his cheeks. then slowly... quietly... he started to cry.
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