It was on a rainy day, Natasha sat on the couch in the living room, reminiscing all the moments she shared with her late best friend Mia. She still couldn't believe that she was gone. She hoped for a miracle to happen but unfortunately, it won't.
Natasha was lost in her thoughts, and tears tripped down her cheeks when she felt a tap on her left shoulder, it was Reynolds her husband.
"You seem to be in another realm dear wife" He teased.
Natasha sluggishly wiped her tears.
"Why are you crying?" he asked.
She didn't expect that question from her husband, but the thought of him asking what had happened made her want solace from him as her voice choked with sobs. She needed him. But instead of the gentle touch, the comforting embrace, she was met with a cold, unsettling truth.
"Mia died," she'd whispered, the words catching in her throat.
Reynolds had been hunched over his phone, his brow furrowed in concentration. He looked up, his expression shifting from focus to a disconcerting glint. "Oh," he'd said, his voice flat. "Well, that's, unexpected."
Natasha had allowed a flicker of hope to ignite. Maybe, just maybe, he would say something, anything, that showed an iota of understanding. But then it came, the words that ripped through her like shards of glass.
"You know," Reynolds continued, leaning back in his chair, a strange smile playing on his lips, "It's funny, actually. She never really looked my way. Not really. I always thought, Well, you know, with her, uh, proportions. I thought she'd be interested. I always had a thing for her, if I'm being honest."
That was it. The fragile dam holding back her grief broke, unleashing a torrent of fury. She stared at him, her eyes wide with disbelief, with betrayal.
"Are you serious?" she had hissed, her voice trembling. "My best friend just died! And you're talking about her body? Your wife's best friend! You're disgusting!"
Reynolds had blinked, his smile fading into a look of mild surprise, maybe irritation. "What? I'm just being honest. She was, attractive. You can't deny that."
The argument had escalated quickly. His words, like sandpaper grating against her raw nerves, had fueled her rage she accused him of being insensitive, of being utterly devoid of empathy. He countered by dismissing her grief as histrionics, by claiming she was overreacting.
In the end, the words were spat like venom, leaving a bitter taste in the air. She had packed a bag, her hands shaking and walked out, the sound of her slamming the door a stark punctuation on what felt like the end of everything.
The days that followed were a blur of sleepless nights, tear-soaked pillows, and the gnawing ache of loss. She stayed with her aunt, finding some semblance of comfort in her familiar presence and endless cup of tea.
Natasha was lost in her thoughts, her gaze fixed on the chipped rim of a ceramic bowl, her mind miles away, swirling in a tempest of doubts and anxieties.
Aunt Millie watched her niece with a knowing eye. Natasha usually go vibrant and full of laughter, had been a walking shadow these past few weeks. The light had dimmed in her eyes, replaced by a weary resignation that Millie found deeply unsettling.
"Lost in the fog, are we, love?" Millie's voice, a warm honeyed drawl, broke through the silence. She placed a steaming mug of chamomile tea on the counter, the ceramic clinking gently against the porcelain tiles.
Natasha blinked, startled, and a weak smile flickered across her face. "Just thinking, Aunt Millie," she mumbled, picking at a loose thread on her apron.
Millie leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. "Thinking about Reynolds, I presume?"
Natasha's shoulders slumped. She finally met her aunt's gaze, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. The dam, it seemed, was finally cracking. "It's, complicated," she admitted, the word barely a whisper.
Millie nodded, her expression softening. "Complicated is a polite word for messy, sometimes. Want to tell me about the mess?"
Natasha hesitated, swirling the tea in her mug as if searching for the right words in its depth. "He hates me so much, he doesn't care about me or my feelings, he's always in a club, late nights, early mornings. We barely see each other."
Natasha sighed, the exhale carrying the weight of unsaid words. "It's like, he enjoys seeing me suffer emotionally. He only laid with me once, since the past few months we got married. I tried all I could to get a connection, but he keeps making my efforts seem futile, and then I have my father's company to save."
Millie listened patiently, her gaze unwavering, her hand gently resting on Natasha's arm.
"And what about your path?" Millie asked gently.
"Where does your heart want to lead you?"
"I don't know Aunt Millie, I'm so confused."
Natasha's phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, a persistent reminder of the world outside her sanctuary. She sighed, reluctant to face barrage of messages from her husband, friends and cousins.
Most of them were concerned about her sudden disappearance from social circles.
"You might want to attend to that" Millie said, leaving Natasha alone in the kitchen.
Natasha's thumb hovered over her phone screen, contemplating whether to break the silence and dive back into the chaos
Lost in her tumultuous thoughts, the company, once her father's pride and joy, had become a burden shed never anticipated. Her marriage to Reynolds had been a strategic move to save the company from financial ruin, but at what cost? Her eyes stung with unshed tears as she recalled the warmth and comfort she found in Xander's presence during her darkest moments. He was the one constant in her life, a beacon of hope amidst turmoil.
Her hand reached out and picked up the phone, the coldness of the device, a stark contrast of warmth Xander exuded. As she scrolled through the messages, she felt a pang guilt for not being honest with him. She'd lied to him once that Reynolds had changed towards her for good.
Her thumb paused on his last message, a simple inquiry about her wellbeing. It was the first time she allowed herself to consider that maybe, just maybe there was another path she could take.
Natasha composed a message to Xander, asking to meet at their usual spot, the small café where they'd shared countless confidences over the years. Her heart raced as she hits send, knowing that she was about to take a step that could change everything.