echoes

                                                              ECHOES

“Just, stop, shouting.” The words ground out slowly and with effort. She paused mid sentence red tear streaked eyes searching for a mote of sympathy.  The torrent of anger subsided as she gazed into his face, how dare he ask her to be quiet. With barely a twitch of muscle the gaze became one of contempt.
“I hope she was worth it.” The admittedly corny line bit the air between them. It was David’s turn for a change of pace.
“what…?” He stumbled, his face falling from its tight scowl. He sagged “look I know I screwed up but we can work this out.”  In an instant though his defences rallied, muscles pulled together the sudden sag of his shoulders reversed as if raised by an unseen puppeteer the expression hardened  “it wouldn’t have happened if..” He began, and then stopped. The silence gaped between them. The end of his sentence twisted and turned inside his mind but he knew there were no words to break this moment. To make it all ok.
“I’m sorry” she whispered. He was never sure if he had managed to say the ‘me too’ out loud or if it was merely a whisper in his mind. It echoed there though, hollow and weak.

Sunlight streamed through the large window making the room feel bright and airy. It had been one of the reasons she had wanted this house. It felt so warm and bright. A month had passed. There had been no more shouting, there had barely been any talking. Removal men had traipsed back and forth separating the belonging of years, bustling out cheerily and asking for another coffee. Each item taking them another step away from the home they had built. She had smiled and nodded cheerily as she flicked the kettle on. Just as with family and friends she had made cheery comments about a brighter future. She turned from the window; the emptiness of the room was almost overwhelming. This was where they used to put the Christmas tree, she thought. With that came a flood of memories. All those moments they had shared here echoing in these walls. Some days it seemed impossible to believe it was all real. Perhaps if she closed her eyes tight enough when they opened all would be back to normal and the room would contain more than just memories.
There had been anger, there had been tears, there had been defiant ‘I will survive.’ This was the worst though. This numb silence where suddenly it was all real.
Her legs crumbled slowly as she descended to the ground. All the feelings fell inwards as the tears began to streak.
“What am I supposed to do now?” she spat at the walls. The walls, though, were oblivious. No amount of begging or crying could change a thing. The bright room became oppressive, mocking her.
The faces smiled at her. How it had got there she had no idea but it now consumed her full attention. Poking out from a small pile of items not yet packed was a snapshot from last summer. At first glance a happy barbeque, the camera strap creating a swirl a third of the way across. Her sister had never been a great photographer. They had argued that night she recalled though she couldn’t recall why. It was rarely over anything much. It was a picture she had never paid much attention too. Not a great image of anyone and with the camera strap it had been relegated to the scrap heap. Now though it filed the world. There she sat smiling up at him. At first glance it seemed he was smiling back at her. For the first time though she realised his gaze, with its cheeky grin, was passing right over her to someone out of shot. She looked once more at her smile and saw it for what it was, hopeful. It was impossible to escape that it ended at the lips. Empathy washed over her for the lost eyes trying to pretend everything was okay. It was strange seeing herself from the outside. Her whole stance told its own little story. There had been good times but here was a woman who had wanted more. Someone who had settled and was blindly hoping somehow things would get better. She stood, lifting the image with her still gazing into her own eyes. Sure it was going to be hard. She definitely didn’t know quite where to go from here. But suddenly it didn’t feel like doors were slamming shut around her any longer. They were gradually opening to reveal a world of possibilities. This was a second chance.
Gently, she placed the photograph on the mantle piece. This was where it belonged, with the rest of the memories. Soon someone else would move in and fill the walls with their own lives. Consciously she raised her chin, wiped the last tear from her eyes and walked, for the last time, through that door, eager to see what new ones may open.