46. Adelaide
FORTY-SIX
ADELAIDE
Chubby greeted me with friendly kisses at the door to which I open-heartedly returned with temperate fluffs.
Tonight, would be our first date as a married couple. No pretending, no running around the bushes— real .
I loved the sound of it.
More than that, I loved living it.
The sun was close to setting. In Christian’s apartment, light flooded in through his large windows—basking the room with hues of sunset—different every day. Today, the colours were unfortunately dull.
Gloomy clouds basked over the sky. It didn’t reflect the giddiness in my heart.
I didn’t know what time Christian would pick me up. Which meant getting ready early—because the earlier the better. Being late for anything itched in a weird chicken pox kind of way and if I could prevent it, I would.
I could go with a dark brown outfit— something close enough to match Christian’s eyes. Blue shirt matched with my dark brown would be perfect.
Tonight, would be about me and him.
About us. Talking. Catching up. Loving .
Skirting up the stairs with a skip to my step, I headed straight for the closet. It was a long walk-in that had enough room to fit a whole queen-sized bed. One side was Christian’s, and the other side was mine. Most of my dresses were ironed and neatly hung which left little work for me.
In the middle of my side was a vanity connection to the wall. Whoever designed the closet was looking out for all females and I appreciated it.
I grabbed a long-sleeved overlapping V-neck waist-knotted dress and slipped it on after shedding out of my plain white t-shirt. I braided two thick strands of my hair on each side of my head and pinned it back with a shiny hair pin.
I wore my favourite earrings—a thin golden dangle that hung elegantly on my ears. They were the last pieces of jewellery I made which made it special.
Swooping a darker eyeshadow over my eye and spending much time on covering up some blemishes, I was done.
I was proud of my look today. Elegant but simple and I was comfortable. A part of me jumped at finally letting go of overthinking when I was with Christian. There was this… truce between my anxiety and my happiness where he was involved. They liked to keep a boundary and silence their fight with each other.
Anxiety wasn’t my best friend, but it looked out for me—somehow it trusted Christian to swivel back in its spikey chair and leave me alone in his presence.
Finishing up, I turned around to pick Christian’s outfit. He’d be tired when he got back, and I’d rather set everything out for him.
He was unbelievably monotone. Greys and whites and blacks—not a hint of colour other than the grey-ish blue shirt sticking out near the end of the closet. I’d never seen him pick out clothes from that end.
My feet soundlessly moved over to the end, a heavy pound to each step. I shifted around with the clothes. They smelled just like him.
Rubbing my nose in one of his shirts, I stepped back because what the actual hell was I doing.
Just as I was about to take off the blue shirt from the hanger—I found a mountain of clothes. For someone who kept his house neat, this had to be his dirtiest secret.
What was I going to do with Christian?
That’s when I decided I’d lessen his chores and fold them for him. Had I ever taken the time to fold my own clothes? No, but it was Christian, and I loved him, and it was different . I’d planned to topple the mountainous clothes over to the floor to make it easier for me when they wretchedly fell to the ground in a lumpy pile.
An orange board peeked out from behind the swooshing clothes that remained on hangers.
Taking a deep breath, I started taking down each shirt to get a better view.
I’d have to have a talk with Christian about putting objects where they belonged. It was definitely a work board, but it didn’t belong in his closet. He wasn’t the perfect man I thought him to be?—
Hangers fell to the ground with a collective clatter —fabric rustled together but I was oblivious to sound—to the entirety around me. An incessant buzzing in my ear silenced the world.
Papers and papers pinned to the board, strung along with a connecting red threat. Pictures of people I knew.
Eda, Christian’s dad, Starlight’s board members…
Me.
Panicked eyes shot through each note pasted on the board while I covered my jaw-slackened mouth.
In big bold letters, written in the handwriting I knew too well was the revenge plan .
Everything went still all at once.
What… What is this?
Multiple steps.
Marrying Adelaide.
Voice recordings.
Using her for the final stretch.
File with evidence.
A folder slung back against the board.
I trembled, reaching for it, my brain in a frenzied awakening—somehow in denial, in disbelief, in complete stasis.
Tearing open the folder, I began reading.
Sobs racketed through my chest, as if they couldn’t figure if they wanted to be let out or to hide back inside my body where they were somehow safe.
I didn’t know either.
The truth hit me like a pile of unused bricks. Tackling me one by one like I was the waste bin, the person oblivious to the truth.
Criss-crossed on the ground, Christian’s blue shirt was now wet with my tears, and I knew that my tear ducts would numb themselves—enveloping themselves into a heavy drought as soon as these sobs stopped.
I felt him before I saw him.
His energy walked towards me in slow motion.
“Adelaide…” Twenty minutes ago, I would’ve jumped in his arms.
Now, I barely had the energy to blink to make sure he was here.
You can’t fall into yourself. You can’t walk away from this.
Through a blurry gaze, I shifted my attention to Christian. “Is this… Did you really… Christian ?” His hair fell over his forehead. A vicious, unattainable ache coerced me to go to him. But another, new awakened force prevented the idiocy. “ You used me .”
Shaking his head defeatistly, he got to his knees and reached out for me. “Baby?—”
“Please don’t touch me.” I shifted backwards, falling back on his clothes. Not once looking at him. “If you touch me, I can’t think and I need to think.”
“This morning, I saw a girl that looked like Ayeza and then Monty mentioned her name that was her, wasn’t it?”
Christian released a hoarse breath. “I was going to tell you today.”
“But you didn’t ,” I spat.
He was close enough that I could feel the warmth of his arm. He was close enough that I could sense his teardrop settling on my dress.
“There was never the right moment to tell you.”
I’d never felt as small as I did now. Betrayal was a frequent act, but I never thought I’d be betrayed by Christian.
Maybe it was genetic, considering what I found out.
“There’s never a right time to tell the truth, Christian. You make room for it and push it through—no matter how suffocating it can be.”
“You’re right, baby. I’m sorry.” He grabbed my hand. “Let’s sit down and talk about this.” I didn’t point out that we were already sitting.
“This is wrong.” I snatched my hand away. Cradling the skin like it burned.
It did.
It burned from heartbreak and sedition and oxidized love.
“Eda wouldn’t do this.” Gazing at him, both of us held onto the door barely afloat with the weight of his lies and my love. Too selfish to let go and too selfless to drown. “She loves me— loved my parents. How could she kill them? How could she do that to your mom? How could—you love me.”
“I do.” He fisted his pants. “Hasan and Osama know the truth too.”
If I thought my heart dropped before, it fell off a plane without a parachute now. “Hasan?” The man I thought of as a brother—who took family seriously. The same person who taught me how to overcome my panic attacks and encouraged me to stand up for myself. “He knew too?”
Christian’s eyes widened in despair. “Shit— fuck . Let me tell you the whole truth.”
Why do people lean for the truth when it comes out? It’s not like it mattered anymore. “For someone who’s been lying to me this whole time, the truth won’t be the truth. You’ll find a way to deceive me again.”
“That isn’t true.” There was yearning in his tone. It would be incredibly easy to give in—to forgive him. But I couldn’t forgive myself . “I never meant to hurt you in this process. When I found out the truth seven years ago, I wanted to avenge my mother. You read the letter. You know what she said. You were the easy route to get revenge, but I promise I wasn’t planning on hurting you. On our wedding day I found out about the airplane crash and how it was planned by Eda—she was scared Eomma would tell them about what happened, and her plan wouldn’t work so she called them herself and went through with the plan. I didn’t know about everything, I just?—”
“ No. ”
His words broke apart—snipping themselves into a thousand pieces and implementing my consciousness. Eda killed my parents. She betrayed Eunbin. I was the mistake in all of this—the liability. She was using me to get to the top. Christian was using me to get to her. And me? I wasn’t using myself at all. All along I was this empty can, echoing the sounds of others’ voices. A string attached to the nape of my neck while they used me for their one sake. I was the mistake. If I’d been in that plane, Eda would have gotten what she wanted and I wouldn’t have to deal with the corrupted, molded, expired pain expanding in my chest. I felt violated.
There were two Christian’s.
He flooded into numerous sounds, none of which I understood.
My breaths lowered themselves into the pits of my stomach while collecting air but never releasing it. As if it were stocking up for an apocalypse. “Stop talking.” Thumping a hard hand against my chest, wishing this ache would surpass.
Heaving and throbbing and disoriented.
Count to eight, Adelaide.
But what was eight?
How do I get to eight?
Numbers vanished from my mind and all I saw was the distortions of him.
Panic rose through my veins, transferring to my fingertips where it settled back into my skin by biting into my palms.
“Adelaide,” his hold felt like shackles around my neck. “Look at me, baby.”
Weakly, I shoved. “I need you to leave .”
His presence, his late honesty, I couldn’t bear it.
Why couldn’t I be normal?
Why did this happen to me ?
“I’m not leaving you like this.” He rubbed up and down my arms but all it did was strung the wrong chord. “Breathe?—”
“I can’t breathe because of you .”
One…
He fell back against his feet
Two…
This will pass.
Three….
His face fell.
Four…
This will pass.
Five…
Christian stood completely broken apart as if a bullet pierced through him.
Six…
This will pass.
Seven…
His steps stuttered with his backwards shuffling, withdrawing with a horrified expression. The second he disappeared out the closet, I sighed.
Eight…
It passed.