HER P.O.V.
“It wasn’t my intention.”
You made the first move.
“I didn’t mean to do it.”
You texted her first.
“This isn’t my fault.”
You started deleting your conversations.
“She had done it first.”
Again, YOU made the first move.
“I’m sorry.”
You never were.
HIS P.O.V.
It wasn’t my intention.
I met her at the art store across your office where I was supposed to meet you.
I know you’re busy and all (you’re finishing some office work and working on your artworks at the same time) but I waited for you.
It didn’t even matter that I was standing there for more than three hours. Until she bumped at me carrying the same stuff you always buy when you’re painting.
Paper scattered on the floor- paint tubes and brushes all around, she reminded me of you.
I helped her, we chatted and I, I suddenly thought she wasn’t like you at all.
“….”
I didn’t mean to do it.
At first it was just chance encounters that we meet at that art store- sometimes she arrives first, sometimes I arrive later and all we do is talk and talk and talk. Then we exchanged numbers because suddenly an afternoon of talking wasn’t enough.
The more we talked, the more I knew about her and the more you became somewhat a stranger to me.
We don’t talk much but you were an “actions speak louder than words” person so I guessed that was fine.
But that night I fell asleep wondering why I knew so little about you.
“…..”
This isn’t my fault.
I guess it went downhill when I agreed on meeting somewhere else without you knowing.
I admit I was guilty.
I even deleted our conversations just so you wouldn’t find about I talked about us to her.
But really, what we did was talked, and talked and talked.
You see, she was quite a talker.
She takes me to places I never knew existed, she lets me try new things I knew you’d refuse to do, and she’s so full of life and color.
She was so fun to be around that I compared the time I shared with you. You weren’t fun but.
But.
“…..”
She had done it first.
I had a bad feeling when I received her text, “Help.”
Remember that night when I told you my friend John, wanted to have drinks with me? It wasn’t John because that night I was with her.
We had drinks while she wallowed about her heartbreak about how she couldn’t stop herself, which she knew that what she was doing was bad that I thought that it was someone else and I was telling her, “I know” but then a second after she was kissing me.
I guess she misinterpreted what I said but I couldn’t push her away. “It was the drinks”, I thought as I kissed her back and then the next morning when I woke up my limbs tangled with her I still thought, “It was the drinks.”
“….”
I’m sorry.
You found out I was with a woman that night through my clothes in the dirty laundry after two days.
I guess I was too hangover that I’m not in the right mind to remove the evidence of what happened that night or was it just because I wanted you to find out what I just did?
I guessed it was the latter.
You were scowling at me the whole time.
Where’s the “how dare you”,the “explain how the fuck did this shit happened”,and the “you cheated on me?”
Why are you silent the whole time?
Why aren’t you shouting at me?
I deserved to be treated poorly!
I was cheating on you, with her! I cheated on you!
Say something!
Please.
You didn’t say something.
So I said what I do the best.
“….”
FATE’S P.O.V.
Rain’s pouring outside, should I try to stop the time?
The woman raises her hand and to slap the man across the table.
The man flinches, he is ready for it. He knows he deserves it.
The slap never reach him.
The woman retreats her hand.
Rain’s pouring outside, the woman let’s out what she keeps inside.
“I trusted you to be there for me even when I didn’t need you to. You know I only had you. You knew how much I loved you. You knew I love you.”
The man sighs and palms his face.
Rain’s stop pouring, and the woman’s tears starts falling.
“I knew you we’re seeing her behind my back.”
The man gasps and his eyes widen by a fraction, “I-“
“I love you. God, I still do after what you did.”
The man looks down on his lap still not saying anything.
“It hurts because it’s partly my fault too.”
The man now starts to cry.
“I’m sorry, I forgot you needed to be loved too.”
The man cries harder.
“I failed to see how it wasn’t just me who is hurting.”
The man sobs and whispers. “No, no. It’s me. I-“
“I let you drift away, I didn’t even try to win you back.”
The man reaches out her hand, grips and kisses her knuckles one by one.
“I should’ve-”
“-I’m sorry.”
They both cry their heart out.
Gray clouds starts disappearing, a rainbow appears but their hearts are breaking.
The woman wipes her tears.
The man lets go of her hand and wipes his tears.
The woman stands up, an agreement in silence was made.
The man walks her to the door.
They hug.
The woman whispers, “Just for ten seconds.”
One, the man rubs her back.
Two, the woman presses her cheek against his chest.
Three, the man holds her tightly.
Four, the woman counted the beats of his heart.
Five, the man presses his nose against her hair.
Six, the woman slides her arms on his back.
Seven, the man takes a deep breath.
Eight, the woman closes her eyes.
Nine, the man kisses her forehead.
Ten, the woman whispers, “I’m sorry.”
The man drops her arms around her, “Thank you.”
A rainbow disappears, a red thread breaks.
A love fails, but time never fails.
Days to weeks, months to years.
Boxes are packed, a new goal tracked.
A new day to look forward to, a new person to hold on to.