Author: buorin PM
Consequences of doubt.Rated: Fiction K - English - Romance/Tragedy - Words: 6,333 - Favs: 1 - Published: 09-25-08 - Status: Complete - id: 2576567
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
© June 2007
"I'm about to marry soon, I'm so happy!" The girl with short black hair, long bangs that cover her forehead, and a piece of earrings that extend just past the side of her jaw line speaks delightfully with her friends in a cafe.
"You have been saying this for the past month already. I know you are excited but understand us girls who are still single." Her friend speaks up for the other two girls, who are still single sitting at the same table enjoying coffee.
"Hihihi, I know but I can't help feeling excited." The short black hair girl chuckles as she blows the hot cup of coffee, takes a sip out of it, and smells the sweet aromas that the place brought about for her. She looks around, seeing other people enjoying themselves while chatting just makes her mind swoons more for the wedding day to come near.
"Geez, so have you got everything prepared for the special day yet?" Her other friend speaks up this time, with her eyes rolling as if annoyed. However, the delightful girl only thinks of it as a thoughtful question and joyfully answers. She isn't aware that at the age her friends and her are at – might as well say near thirty – there is a great importance in who gets to marry. Maybe not so much on other women of that age, but much so on women of her friends – women who are too picky for their own goods that they wish for a perfect man instead of settling just for the typical normal salary everyday life man.
"Everything is done. I just have to wait for the day to come. Everyone is invited, the church is registered, the restaurant reserved, everything, everything, everything is done!" She exclaimed happily.
"Hahaha, I feel so happy for you." Her third friend smiles sincerely at her and she seems to be grateful for such warm feelings as well.
After they are done with Saturday morning chit chat, the delightful girl has to speak goodbye to her dear friends for it is now her dating time with her fiancé. Checking the time from her Movado watch, which is a present her fiancé gave her for their second anniversary, the time is currently still only eleven in the morning, too early for anything except hanging at the mall. So she picks up her red Motorola cell phone from her jacket and dials his number.
"What is it dear?" A soft-spoken voice, warm yet low in an inaudible way, responds back to her.
"I'm done talking with my friend; want to hang out at the mall?"
"Okay, you want me to pick you up?"
"Uhm!" She responds giddily closing her eyes and spreading her wide smile, a smile full of happiness. After she hangs up the phone, she clasps it in her palm and encloses it tightly around her chest, an action typical of a person who just speaks to her beloved one. She waits for a while until he finally comes and when their fingers are still enclosed while in the car, they silently share their love until the road to the mall reaches its ends.
Hand in hand, they walk in the mall looking at random places and feeling happy at trivial actions from each other. The silliest comment, the slightest touch, and the warmest words altogether creating an almost unbreakable atmosphere that even the harshest winter cannot intercept and freeze up are so precious to these two lovebirds right now. The fresh days of being together always emerge for people the giddiest feelings but the days ahead can never be guaranteed that all will be giddiest, there will be bitter, sweet, sour, and even tasteless.
A month of hanging out together and having fun has finally reaches a dead point to start a new beginning, a beginning sparks by the sharing of rings and the vowing of faithfulness and loyalty. A night before the big day, a Friday night, the couple sits silently in the church with each of their head rests upon each other staring vacantly at the altar.
"Are you happy?" She whispers slightly, blowing a few strands of hair along the way, to his ear.
"Yeah and you?"
"Very." She wraps her arm around his and inches closer to him, feeling the warmth and love that she can currently.
In an opposite direction, aside from the couple, sits a middle-age man in his wheelchair. Wrapped around his legs is a piece of fabric, old and torn in a way that expresses its antiquity. He clasps his hand in the prayer's position and silently, with his eyes closed, he focuses on delivering his messages to the God. As he finishes his prayers, he carefully maneuvers his wheelchair down the middle alleyway, which to the left sits the couple. As he passes them, he suddenly has a desire to speak his mind even though he knew so well that his tale will definitely change the couple's happy feelings towards each other. It can be grudge, or an inability to accept other's happiness that he feels that way, an incomprehensible sin but he still desires to speak his mind.
"Is tomorrow your big day?" The middle-age man speaks in a monotone voice, yet loud enough to attract the couple's attention.
The couple looks around them to reassure that the man is directing his question at them. Seeing that there is none other besides them, the girl speaks up first in her usual delightful voice, "Yes it is."
"I see." He drifts off softly, almost to the extent that no ears can hear but only eyes can see what he actually says. It's probably an ideal situation where action proves more powerful than what inaudible words uttered.
Realizing that the middle-age man has some other remarks besides the casual question, the fiancé speaks politely, "Is there something troubling you sir?"
Puzzled at the question, the middle-age man answers half-heartedly, not to mention nervously, shakes his head, and then suddenly sighs. Without any further question, he assumes for himself the liberty to start the story of his own. "It was the same day fifteen years ago that I also stood in this church with my fiancée." He stops, looks at the couple for a while, examines the dim-light all around him that the silent church provides before continuing, "I was really happy. I was probably as excited and warm as you young ones are right now. I was filled with the hopes of a happy family with my dearest someone. It was a beautiful moment…"
They were waiting for him to continue on with his story but he suddenly decides to leave, probably due to his guilty conscience preventing him from going any further. However, even if human wishes the best for others curiosity kicks in and ruins the moment of good deeds. Maybe, just maybe, if he doesn't ask any further question his doubt will not increase so much later.
"So where is she now?"
The middle-age man turns around and smiles before replying, "She? She probably marries someone already, has a few kids and lives her life happily."
"Why? Weren't you getting married?" He hesitantly asks perhaps sadden at the man's solemn response.
"If you look at me now," he fixes his gaze upon the pair of legs immobilized and covered by an old ragged piece of cloth before continuing on, "You might possible guess I had an accident."
"So…?" The girl looks about nervously around her and finally has the courage to focus her eyes upon the middle-age man.
"Being a young girl, she couldn't possibly take care of me all her life so I let her go." Afterwards, the man opens the church door leaving behind him the echoes of the door as it closes tightly. Behind that closed door stands a puzzled, or more in a general term surprised by the certain strike of reality, couple now no longer their fingers entwined. Yet even with their short moment of intimacy the echoes of the closing door continues to spread until the only thing standing unaltered is the burning flame of the candle lighted earlier during the mass up upon the altar.
The big day has finally arrive with everyone busies around worrying about appearance, scheduling, and getting ready on time for the upcoming wedding vows at the church. The bride now sits alone in front of the make-up window still perplexed about what had happened the other day with the middle-age man.
The guy started to walk out first after a moment of standing there looking at the close door, its echoes ceased to diffuse across the room. The delighted girl could only run after him, wrapped her arm around his, and smiled happily as they walked outward from the church. Seeing how quiet the guy had turned, the girl felt more burdened that she must lessen the serious atmosphere so in her desperate effort, she reassured the guy as she spoke without much consideration, "Don't worry I won't leave you like the fiancée of that man would." He only turned to smile at her trying to make her feel comfortable but when the girl smiled brightly and rested her head on his shoulder, he stared straight ahead and had on a troubled face.
"What is wrong with you, why are you staring out into space?" She looks up to see who is it that speaks to her and the person turns out to be her friend, the first friend at Saturday's café. Dressed in a more fashionable way suitable for the wedding event, her friend seems to spread an aura of beauty. Just a change of appearance, more specifically a change in clothes with adequate amount of make-up, and already her friends look more attractive than even her, the bride. Is it more of a self-consciousness that she feels this way or is it the lingering awful feeling from yesterday that turns her cheerful personality into a pessimistic one? Whatever it is or whatever it turns out to be, she can only smile and think optimistically for what assumed to be an awesome day.
"Don't tell me you miss your honey already?"
She can only smile and her friend accepts it as a 'yes' to her typical observation. "Don't just sit there; let me see your dress and make-up. I want to make sure that you look the best out of all the girls here." Her friend happily exclaims and assumes herself the liberty to fix the bride thinking that it can be the best congratulation a friend should do.
From not too far away, another part of the universe from the bride's living room stands a man in his tuxedo. He is roaming around his neighborhood pondering about something, unknown to any viewers passing by, and from his face there is the look of someone who cannot give up his mind to act with his heart instead. How can he be troubled when it's his wedding day? Is it that because of such a big day, one that will change his life forever from a single man to that of a married, that create such a grimace look on his face? Possibly due to his troubling mind, he isn't too aware of the roads nearby him. From a distant a far there appears a car emerging from the corner, with a speed not many should drive in around a corner especially that of a neighborhood, and because of such lightning speed the driver cannot stop the car in time. The groom just stands there and up above the sky one can hear the loud screech of the destructive car and the deadly cries of the birds escaping from the tree…
Like an uncanny calls, the bride turns around to see who calls for her. However, it's just the rushing of a panicking mother telling her to hurry up with her make-up. "Where is the bride? It's almost time already, where is she?"
"Mother, is it time already?"
"Yes, hurry up. Your dad will take you to the church in fifteen minutes, are you all ready?"
"Yes, I'm all set. What about everyone else?"
The mother looks around to see that her living room has now turned into a make-up room with mirrors around, clothes on the floor, and people busying themselves in front of the mirror trying to correct their imperfections. She let out a big sigh before continuing to speak, "Don't worry about them. They can come later than you but you must come earlier, now let's go with haste." The bride nods, picks up her long white dress so she won't trip and fall, and follows her mother out of the living room. Her friend, who notices that she forgot to bring along her purse, picks it up and follows her as well.
They waited for a long time yet the groom still isn't anywhere to be seen. The guests sitting down on the pews at the church are whispering, the priest is waiting patiently while the bride's family, including her, is trying desperately to reach the groom yet to no avail. Slowly and suddenly, a noise begins to disperse around the room and everyone becomes silent. The source of the sound comes from the bride's friend, the one who picks up the purse. She looks confused and innocently at everyone that she is not the cause of the sound. However, before she can open her mouth the bride quickly runs to her seat and thoroughly searches her purse for the whereabouts of the phone, the red Motorolla cell phone. In a shaking manner, she flips open her phone and carefully places it near her ears answering, "Hello?"
"Oh yes hello." A strange voice speaks to her and having her woman's intuition she senses that something is wrong with her fiancé. Yet she remains quiet in an effort to mask her nervousness and to hope that she has become too sensitive with the matter. While she tentatively listens, withholding her breath, the man continues "Is this the family of Mr. Powell?"
"Well he just got into a car accident and currently staying at the hospital if you can come and see for his well being as well as finish some documents for him that will be great. As for his condition…"
"Where is he now? I will be there." She quickly answers before the man on the other line finishes his sentence. As soon as he told her the location of the hospital and the room number, she tells her parents in a hurried manner and as soon as they are informed she flees directly to the hospital. On the way there all she hopes for is his well-being.
The door slightly open revealing a white dress, not as white as previously seen in the living room, but still retains its natural color yet in a more sadden way. The footsteps approach nearer and nearer until the door is tightly closed. Having a closer view of the room as she roams her eyes around trying to avoid the exactly one person on the bed, it seems to be a hospital room with white sheets and sharp smell of bleach. The atmosphere altogether frightens her but she tries hard to maintain her courage and walks forward until she finally hits the rim of the bed. She slowly stoops down and caresses his right leg, now tightly wrapped in a cast. With teary eyes, she continues to caresses his face, his closing eyes with long lashes, and his lips but until she can't withhold her tears anymore she leaves the room.
For the next few days she continues to visit him and talks to him. There seems to be an understanding between them that both cannot speak of as if either one of them who speaks first will hurt the other. So they remain quiet and only talk about how they should make up for the wedding that has been canceled due to his condition. One day while she sits near him peeling an apple, she suddenly senses a different feeling from him, more towards the situation. In her mind, she knows that they must face the situation but she needs time – time to know whether he can be healed or not. Deciding not to sits there and waits for him to talk, she quickly stands up and gives an excuse that she must run and get him some water. However, he grabs her wrist tightly and motions her to sit down, where she originally sits. The apple, now half peeled, lies in her palm obediently and is forgotten.
"You know of my situation right?"
She remains silent with her head lower avoiding eye contacts with him as he speaks, "I haven't really thought much about it but sometimes I think life is really ironic. We were so happy the day before our wedding and yet we heard…" He hesitates to speak further and chooses to examine whether she is responding to what he says. He can't really see her facial expressions for her bangs cover almost her entire face as she lowers her head. However, he can detect that she is uncomfortable no less than him for she is, unconsciously, holding tightly to the apple in her palm. Letting out a sigh, he finally resumes his speech "Seeing the middle-age man as he was that day I really couldn't forgive the fiancée that left him. He was already saddened by the situation yet he had to face heartache because she couldn't handle taking care of him. I guess I can relate with her how young she was to be taken on the burden but to declare love and when one faces a bad situation she suddenly ran away like that…" He stops again and at this time he can sense that she is shaken up, still with her head lower.
Trying to remain cool and collective, he removes his blanket revealing his leg, not tightly wrapped in a cast with little writings on it. Such scribbles come from those who are too young to understand the delicacy of being injured and treated it as more likely an event to be ridiculed. Or in a happier sense, those are greetings from people who wish for his well beings and in hope to lighten the situation scribble on his cast. Not minding such trivial matters as well as her shaken position, he continues selfishly "I never thought that I will someday be like that middle-age man. He had a very despairing look about him that scared me. For some reason, I didn't want to be like him and I started to doubt the whole marriage idea. I was thinking that maybe people who marry each other only see the goods of others that the bad traits they really didn't see. After all, aren't we creatures who try to appear beautiful in front of everyone? Thus that created in me a monster, monster of greed. I know how hard it must be but really can one stays with me when I'm in trouble? Can one possibly stay with me when I'm crippled?" He stops and as he turns to speak at her in his eyes there is a certain hope that she wouldn't be like the fiancée of the middle-age man, "Do you remember what you said to me?"
At the instant he says that, she immediately let go of the apple, now hitting the floor yet continues to roll until it reaches the corner of the room. The knife, which was never spoken off, now too falls off from her hand and spins under the bed. She turns to look at him now with tears in her eyes, only tears and no words ever exit her mouth. He stares in her eyes intently and realizing that they aren't tears of gratitude nor loyalty but more of apologetic, he turns away and only replies, "It's okay I can live knowing that you answered truthfully."
Soon afterwards no one speaks of the event but deliberately tries to avoid it and only mentions about going out to feel the fresh air, eating, or reading silently. There seems to be an undeniable truth between them that nothing is the same anymore but somehow one of them tries hard to constrict the gap. Then suddenly, one of them doesn't appear anymore. She doesn't appear at his bedside in the hospital anymore for quite a few days. He just sits there knowing why yet still hoping as he glances at the door and every time someone opens it, he has on a disappointed face to see only the nurse. Days slowly pass by until that late Friday, the same day when they appeared at the church happily wrapping each other in their embraces, that she appears. He is wide awake but maintains his posture of someone lying dormant and as a result she thinks that he is still in his dreams. She trembles as she whispers but still in a decisive manner, "I'm sorry that I have to tell you this when you are still asleep. I know you will not forgive me but I really do need some time." She pauses before saying, "I booked a ticket to go to Hawaii. This should be our honeymoon but I need time to think. I am sorry that you are like this but I can't bring myself…" She doesn't have to speak anymore for he understands exactly what she is trying to portray. However, he remains silent as she weeps painfully.
When she is finally done wiping away her tears, she gathers herself and kisses him the lover's goodbye. She walks slowly away from him and because no sound is heard except the compact of her high heels against the floor, he feels as if those sounds are the eternal goodbye. He closes his eyes and a speckle of tear dropped from the tear gland and trickles down onto the bed sheet. The 'bup' of the compact of the tear against the sheet isn't as loud as that of the high heels against the floor so she never realized that he is awake all the time. As the footsteps finally ceased to exist she opens the door and with one last glance at his bed, she closes it tightly. The echoes of the closing door spreads its way through the center of the half peeled apple still laying in the corner of the room forgotten, blows pass the knife still laying untouched and covered in spider web under the bed, and now the only sound is the heavy breathings of the man desperately trying to keep his tears from overflowing.
In a nearby park where little children are happily playing with each other and the sun constantly shining, there is a man who just sits there observing all that is happening around him. He has on a beanie that covers the top of his head till the end of his ear lobe, his eyelids being barely visible. When one kid accidentally falls and bruises his knee from playing around, the man abruptly stands up and helps the little kid. The little boy with his gratitude smiles brightly at the man's offer for help, who in return rubs the boy's hair until it becomes messy. Ready to stand up, a sudden noise starts to vibrate in his pocket.
"Hello." He says as he replies to the vibrating sound of his phone. He continues to talk as he walks.
On the other side of the road there is a lady who just happens to get ready for lunch. She has long back hair that extends down to the tip of her shoulder blade with her bangs no longer covering her forehead but now has been incorporated with all her hair. She also has on a pair of black ear rings that fit her dark business suit very well. She exits the building in a hurried manner while putting on her jacket. The day has quite an ominous weather ahead that somehow frightens her. Yet she still put on a happy façade hoping that everything is just her oversensitivity. As she walks on forward, there too seems to be an existing noise vibrating from her purse. Similar to the man she picks up her phone, except that it's a black Motorolla one, and answers, simply, "Hello?"
"How long did you take in the restroom? Are you there yet? We are waiting for you come before our lunch break is over." Her friend quickly asks her, quite in a demanding tone, as soon as she picks up the phone.
"I just got out of the building. I will head there right away. Why don't you order -" She stops abruptly when she no longer has her eyes on the pavement she is walking on but towards the human figure that appears at her eye level. Her phone falls to the ground as she loosen her grip on it and on the line one can hear her friends angered voice slowly starting to disappear…
On that day as if God has answers each of their prayers, they unexpectedly meet each other ever since that startling Friday night's goodbye.
Now the both of them – the man and the lady – move their bodies, restlessly, into a nearby restaurant. For the both of them, the conversations on the phone earlier never again surface in their minds until the day later. They quietly sit at a table, the very last table in a corner of a café that its function during lunchtime is quite meaningless. The waitress brings the ordered coffee to the table, asks them to enjoy, and leaves. As she walks away, she senses a heavy atmosphere between the two but she remains quiet for it really isn't any of her business.
"So how are you doing?" The man calmly asks as he takes a sip of coffee from the hot cup. The tingling sensation no longer affecting him for far more painful events had happened before. He has no apparent emotions in him that one can sense except the cold icy façade he masks upon himself.
"You...are still doing well?" She speaks in a trembling manner as she maintains her warm cup of coffee in the palm of her hand, exactly like how she had done with the forgotten apple during that uncomfortable conversation.
He smiles and answers honestly, "I'm doing fine. It was hard but I have managed; how about you?"
She totally ignores his question and mainly focusing on the confusion that has been spreading in her mind. Questions like how can he walk? What happens to what the doctor said about him not able to walk again? How come he looks as if he knows everything that happened? Why isn't he mad at me at all? Such questions cannot help themselves but continue to ravel inside her head as if consuming her whole mind.
There is a pause for a while before he finally has the courage to tell her what is in his mind, the whole truth about everything "I was never crippled."
At that surprising outburst, the cup that she is holding delicately in her hand slips from her tight grip and falls obediently into the cold hard tile of the café. The impact becomes too big for the tiny delicacy that it sprang into eternal fragments scattering about everywhere in the store, just like that forgotten half peeled apple at the corner of the hospital room. The hot fluid spills rapidly and diffuses suavely everywhere until its conquering realm ceases for it's only short-lived. Yet the loud compact of the cup startles everyone and the waitress, although slightly scared, appears immediately in front of the couple offering help. However, her existence is shadowed for now as if in the café the only people available are the man and the lady, the despairing lady.
Tears emerge to cloud her eyes preventing her from seeing clearly. She doesn't mind nor does she try to force it out but instead she withholds herself from letting that temptation to devour her. She doesn't want the man in front of her to see her despairing self; she despises the fact that he can remain so calm in front of her. She despises even more the fact that she feels rather happy he is alright, although she should.
Now it is his turn to lower his head perhaps avoiding her unwanted tears or perhaps too guilty for his own manly kind to face her in such a situation. "It wasn't all lies." He begins shortly, "I was in an accident."
She brings herself to look at him, even from that clouded eyes of her she can still sees for herself the blurry visage, one that mysteriously resembles an illusion of a cold spring during a hot day in the desert. She longed for that visage ever since she left it but she feared, feared that being such a young girl she couldn't possibly taken up such big responsibility. She couldn't help but felt the same like that fiancée of the middle-age man. She pitied him but she didn't have the right to hate her for she too did the same thing to her beloved. Her tears, as if obeying her demand, continue to lie dormant in the corner of her eye and refuse to fall even against the call of gravity.
The car stopped in time and the groom just fell down startled. The driver got out of his car and asked in an apologetic term on whether he was alright. However, the groom pushed away the apologetic arm and stood up, moving away on his own. He thought about what had previously happened and wondered whether it was wise not to rush to the hospital. Then suddenly as if thunder had stroke him he came up with the most preposterous idea an almost married man had ever and came back to the where the driver was, who unfortunate for his own kindness still stood there scared by the fact that he had almost killed someone. When the groom forcefully told the driver to take him to the hospital, there wasn't anything else the driver could do except obliged happily for he too thought he owed him something.
"I'm fine but I need to ask you a favor." He spoke to the doctor calmly without any change of emotion, any careful reconsideration for at that point in time he just wanted to rid of his doubt. Even though the idea seemed absurd that the doctor will lie for him but he managed with his unstable self he managed to convince the doctor, however, under one condition that the doctor will not be responsible for any consequences there after. Thus it happened that on the day she came for him and rested her hands on his face, he had a sudden hope that she wouldn't be like the fiancée of that poor and middle-age man who lived his life in sadness and longing.
"You doubted me? You wanted to test me? You planned it all?" Indignant by his ridiculous confession, she can't help but has the desire to strangle him, to choke him, to suffocate him from breathing for he made her suffer all along for just some stupid ridiculous doubt. She stands up, grabbing her jacket that lies on another seat of the table, and prepares to leave when he holds onto her wrist, pressing in a signal that tells her he isn't finish with what he is saying. His suaveness, his smiles, his calmness no longer available but what is left in his eyes are sharp knives that pierce through her as if saying she has no right to be mad. She was the one who left him alone and disappeared for two years.
"You left me didn't you? You did leave me didn't you? If you had only said-" She fling his grip away from her wrist and for the first time during the whole conversation she cries, tears are trickling and sparkling down her face. She is actually brave enough to face him with tears rolling down her eyes yet in his eyes there is only iciness. Beneath that charming smile lays an insatiable doubt in him that no matter what she vowed no mater how she cried the only freedom he will receive is actually when he never have to doubt.
"How can you possibly say that? How can you possibly tell me to accept that my lover became crippled on my wedding day? How can you be so cruel as to test me in such a manner? How?" No longer able to stand in her position, she slowly and pathetically falls down to her knee as if giving up all hope to fight this needless battle with him. She weeps all her heart and soul out, all the tears that she held inside her all those years revealed itself. It is as if her lachrymal gland has increased in size and now in ecstasy readily pushing out the unbroken salty tears. From a bystander's view, the image that a woman is crying with her knees on the ground while the man calmly remains in his seat becomes the most reasonable evidence to push all faults and wrongdoings on the shoulder of the man alone. Therefore, the waitress- a perfect bystander and a woman nonetheless- who looks forlornly at them before now becomes quite sympathetic with her and despises the man who cause such a beautiful creature to cry her soul out. He, on the side, remains cool and collective and continues to utter endlessly painful words.
"How can you be so cruel as to leave me and blame me? How could you left me for so long? I was expecting you to return and whisper in my ear that you won't mind in whatever condition you will love me. I was expecting –" He stops when she stands up slowly from the floor, now no longer weeping or no longer trying not to weep. Her tears continue to flow without hesitation as her gland happily constricts itself. With her hair covering her face, no one can tell how painful she looks except how strong and decisive she has becomes. She turns around ready to leave when she stops and breathing the last breath of the café place she has the courage to speak up the last goodbye.
"What you want in me I can not give you. I'm just a normal woman not a saint. Maybe if I live with you long enough, whatever you become I shall cherish you no matter what for I still your wife. You have forgotten that I never share the vows with you." Now she stops and turns around to face him with her hair blowing as the wind enters when another customer opens the entrance door to the shop, she smiles and speak bravely "You never thought about that have you? We had no vows between us but only doubt and insecurities. For your happiness, I wish you can meet the person who shares your ideals even without vows. Goodbye." When the door is nearly closed as the next visitor enters, she quickly grabs it and exits leaving it slowly shutting by itself. The sound of the bell, attached at the door knob, vibrates delicately across the room. The visitor remains unnoticed by even the waitress for she too is too focused on the back of the lady who just exited. The echoes of the bell spread across the room, flow over to the spilled coffee and the unclean mess of the fragmented cup, pass over the frozen body of the man still sitting lifeless.
Perhaps if he hadn't become so doubtful and demanding of the true love from his beloved one, he wouldn't face such tragedy. Perhaps if he had tried to accept reality as it is and do not ask for the why and the how of human nature he wont suffer such unfaithful shock. After all, when a man becomes too greedy for love he loses the smoothness of what nature will bring and will take away.
Perhaps if she hadn't been so selfish about her love she would have agreed to stay with him and he, if he was really crippled wouldn't marry her even if she agreed. Perhaps if they did marry, they would have been a very happy couple that will make people jealous. Yet all that perhaps will not change the fact that love coexists with responsibility. In her mind, love was something very beautiful yet she never had the slightest preparations for the responsibilities that could lie ahead. One can speak lightly of her love that it was still unripe.
The last echoes of the bell finally reaches the clock hanging in the wall of the place and somehow in a mocking beat blends with the tick and tock of the clock itself. As if time is the main cause of everything, the ticking of the clock continues to tock no matter how the two inseparable love birds at first begin to part in their separate ways.