The Consequence
a hopeless romantic
The apartment was spotless. Every surface had been polished, wiped down, sprayed with anti-bacterial wash. Every dish had been washed, dried and put into the cupboard it called home. The washing machine had been emptied, as had the tumble drier. All clothes had been ironed, folded and placed on the correct side of the wardrobe and hung on skeletal hangers. Waste paper bins had been emptied into black bin liners, filled and tied, left at the door to be taken out when the sun came up. The stack of magazines on the coffee table had been divided in two, music magazines in one pile, glossy fashion magazines in the other. All books were back on the shelf, all CD’s returned to their cases, alongside the DVD’s.
Inside her clean haven, Zara Cohen sat curled up on the sofa, the duvet from the spare bedroom wrapped around her. A tub of melting Ben & Jerry’s sat in her lap. She dipped her spoon in and shoved the soothing ice cream into her mouth, allowing it to slide down her throat, numbing all her senses and freezing her thoughts. It extinguished the burning in her chest and calmed her down.
Outside the sun was hanging high in the sky. It was midday, the hottest time of day. Yet, the curtains were still jammed closed. The black bin liner was still waiting patiently at the door, ready to be dumped in the bins outside. Zara was still dressed in her pyjamas. Her eyes were red and puffy from the amount of crying she’d done, and dark circles seemed to be stuck under her otherwise sparkling brown eyes. She hadn’t slept a wink. Instead, she’d cleaned to try and calm her nerves, to stop her thinking of Stephen’s whereabouts, and when there was no more cleaning to be done, she collapsed on the sofa with a duvet and ice cream, watching re-runs of Friends. Not even Joey Tribiani could cheer her up right now.
The front door unlocked, just as the adverts came on and Zara turned around to face Stephen. He stepped inside, without noticing her, closing the door behind him. He placed his keys in the bowl on the counter and walked through to the bedroom, only stopping when he realised she wouldn’t be there. He turned to face her, pasting an apologetic look across his face. “Hi sweets,” he smiled brightly, treading on egg shells. He sat beside her on the sofa. “You okay?”
Zara looked up at him. “Seriously? Stephen what the hell is wrong with you?”
He raised one eyebrow, still holding a glimmer of hope to feign all innocence. At the beginning of their relationship, a kiss and a cuddle would bring any of Zara’s anger to a sudden halt, she’d melt into him and all her worries would dissolve into thin air. But as time had gone on, it wasn’t so simple anymore. So he acted the innocent, he played dumb, he still tried with kisses and apologies. But it was much harder to bring her round these days.
“Apart from being slightly hungover, I’m fine.”
She growled and slapped his chest pathetically. Hot tears of frustration fell from her eyes, running down her face like salty rivers. A sob crept up her throat, crawling out of her mouth. She crumbled before his eyes, and he didn’t know why. “What the hell is wrong with you? You’re never here anymore. You’re always with the band or this person or that person. You never have any time for me anymore, even when I stay up all night, worried about where the hell you are. For all I know, you could be lying in some gutter, dead.”
Stephen looked at the floor, his eyes not meeting Zara’s teary ones. He should know better than to date a broken girl. A tarnished one. She needed someone to look after her, someone to wipe her tears and make the monsters go away. He wasn’t that guy, yet he stuck around. He stuck around because he thought he loved her. But now, he wasn’t so sure it was love.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve called you, but you shouldn’t have stayed up. I can take care of myself you know,” he said, quietly, reaching for her hand, which she hastily pulled away.
Zara sniffled. It was a harsh sound, one that hammered against Stephen’s heart. As confused as he was, he still hated to see her cry, especially when he was the cause of her pain. She looked up at him and shook her head. “This isn’t how it’s meant to be, Stephen.”
He nodded. “I know. I’m sorry.”
She brought herself to her feet and trudged into their bedroom. Stephen sighed heavily and picked up her left over ice cream, putting it back in the freezer, her used spoon in the sink. He cleaned up the used tissues littering the floor around the sofa and put the duvet back in the spare room, making the bed up perfectly. By the time he was finished, Zara had composed herself, painted her face with a mask of make up and a big fake smile. She was dressed and packing her much needed items into her handbag.
“Where are you going?” He asked.
“Work, some of us have regular jobs, you know.” She checked her purse and dropped it into her bag, pulling it up to rest on her shoulder.
Stephen watched her walk towards the door, before he called her name, it was soft on his lips, settling in the air between them, before she turned around and waited at the door. He strode over to her and wrapped his arms around her in a secure hug. “Things are going to be better. I promise. I can’t take much more of this fighting.”
“Me either.” She pulled away from him slightly, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’ll see you later.” And Stephen watched her leave.
As she left the apartment, Zara felt the weight of the world resting on her shoulders. Only a few months ago, her and Stephen’s relationship had been the picture of perfection. They went out together, on dates, spontaneous and planned down to the second, they kissed and held one another in the street, he included her in everything and she included him also. But somewhere along the line things had taken a wrong turn. She changed, as did he. He stopped letting her in, and she kept clinging to him. It wasn’t going to work, no matter how much she wanted it to.
So, walking down the stairs out to the car park, Zara pulled her phone out of her bag and called the one person she had always been able to depend on.
“Hey Justin, it’s me, can I see you today? I could really use someone to talk to.”
Inside her clean haven, Zara Cohen sat curled up on the sofa, the duvet from the spare bedroom wrapped around her. A tub of melting Ben & Jerry’s sat in her lap. She dipped her spoon in and shoved the soothing ice cream into her mouth, allowing it to slide down her throat, numbing all her senses and freezing her thoughts. It extinguished the burning in her chest and calmed her down.
Outside the sun was hanging high in the sky. It was midday, the hottest time of day. Yet, the curtains were still jammed closed. The black bin liner was still waiting patiently at the door, ready to be dumped in the bins outside. Zara was still dressed in her pyjamas. Her eyes were red and puffy from the amount of crying she’d done, and dark circles seemed to be stuck under her otherwise sparkling brown eyes. She hadn’t slept a wink. Instead, she’d cleaned to try and calm her nerves, to stop her thinking of Stephen’s whereabouts, and when there was no more cleaning to be done, she collapsed on the sofa with a duvet and ice cream, watching re-runs of Friends. Not even Joey Tribiani could cheer her up right now.
The front door unlocked, just as the adverts came on and Zara turned around to face Stephen. He stepped inside, without noticing her, closing the door behind him. He placed his keys in the bowl on the counter and walked through to the bedroom, only stopping when he realised she wouldn’t be there. He turned to face her, pasting an apologetic look across his face. “Hi sweets,” he smiled brightly, treading on egg shells. He sat beside her on the sofa. “You okay?”
Zara looked up at him. “Seriously? Stephen what the hell is wrong with you?”
He raised one eyebrow, still holding a glimmer of hope to feign all innocence. At the beginning of their relationship, a kiss and a cuddle would bring any of Zara’s anger to a sudden halt, she’d melt into him and all her worries would dissolve into thin air. But as time had gone on, it wasn’t so simple anymore. So he acted the innocent, he played dumb, he still tried with kisses and apologies. But it was much harder to bring her round these days.
“Apart from being slightly hungover, I’m fine.”
She growled and slapped his chest pathetically. Hot tears of frustration fell from her eyes, running down her face like salty rivers. A sob crept up her throat, crawling out of her mouth. She crumbled before his eyes, and he didn’t know why. “What the hell is wrong with you? You’re never here anymore. You’re always with the band or this person or that person. You never have any time for me anymore, even when I stay up all night, worried about where the hell you are. For all I know, you could be lying in some gutter, dead.”
Stephen looked at the floor, his eyes not meeting Zara’s teary ones. He should know better than to date a broken girl. A tarnished one. She needed someone to look after her, someone to wipe her tears and make the monsters go away. He wasn’t that guy, yet he stuck around. He stuck around because he thought he loved her. But now, he wasn’t so sure it was love.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve called you, but you shouldn’t have stayed up. I can take care of myself you know,” he said, quietly, reaching for her hand, which she hastily pulled away.
Zara sniffled. It was a harsh sound, one that hammered against Stephen’s heart. As confused as he was, he still hated to see her cry, especially when he was the cause of her pain. She looked up at him and shook her head. “This isn’t how it’s meant to be, Stephen.”
He nodded. “I know. I’m sorry.”
She brought herself to her feet and trudged into their bedroom. Stephen sighed heavily and picked up her left over ice cream, putting it back in the freezer, her used spoon in the sink. He cleaned up the used tissues littering the floor around the sofa and put the duvet back in the spare room, making the bed up perfectly. By the time he was finished, Zara had composed herself, painted her face with a mask of make up and a big fake smile. She was dressed and packing her much needed items into her handbag.
“Where are you going?” He asked.
“Work, some of us have regular jobs, you know.” She checked her purse and dropped it into her bag, pulling it up to rest on her shoulder.
Stephen watched her walk towards the door, before he called her name, it was soft on his lips, settling in the air between them, before she turned around and waited at the door. He strode over to her and wrapped his arms around her in a secure hug. “Things are going to be better. I promise. I can’t take much more of this fighting.”
“Me either.” She pulled away from him slightly, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’ll see you later.” And Stephen watched her leave.
As she left the apartment, Zara felt the weight of the world resting on her shoulders. Only a few months ago, her and Stephen’s relationship had been the picture of perfection. They went out together, on dates, spontaneous and planned down to the second, they kissed and held one another in the street, he included her in everything and she included him also. But somewhere along the line things had taken a wrong turn. She changed, as did he. He stopped letting her in, and she kept clinging to him. It wasn’t going to work, no matter how much she wanted it to.
So, walking down the stairs out to the car park, Zara pulled her phone out of her bag and called the one person she had always been able to depend on.
“Hey Justin, it’s me, can I see you today? I could really use someone to talk to.”