Who’s To Say Who’s Happy

He sauntered on the streets, enjoying the slight pitter patter of the drizzle on his skin. Tuning out almost everything from his thoughts, he began walking towards his door. Slowly placing the key in its place, he paused for a minute, thinking about how his whole apartment, with his life, was about to go back to normal.

He turned his key and stepped inside to turn on the lights and just gaze into the emptiness. But there was more than just nothingness keeping him company that night.

“I was beginning to worry you’d lost your way home,” a familiar voice broke into cliché.

There she was, curled up on the couch with a glass of red wine. Celia wore a crimson bathrobe matching the color of her drink.

Taken aback by her audacity, Joshua replied, “We’ve been over for a long time. What brought you here tonight? I don’t remember even wishing to see you!”

She turned up the minute he thought that she was gone. They had been in a bizarre situation of love for a long time.

“Relationships come with complications and consequences,” she said; “and this is a complication, not a consequence.” It was as though she had waited for this moment a long time.

Therefrom, he chose to ignore her completely and headed towards the bedroom, where she followed him. Without changing his clothes, he turned off the lights and went to bed.

“You’ll catch a cold,” said Celia, and began undressing him. His clothes were damp and has the essence of his perfume mixed with the hint of fresh rain that he had chanced to catch and capture.

Without a second’s delay, they were exactly back to where they had started. Their bizarre story of love took the longest halt of a month this time, only to resume their carousel of guilty pleasures and pains. Who’s to say who’s happy!