The Widows Intuition

Dead people receive more flowers than living ones because regret is stronger than gratitude. At least that’s what Anne Frank said. In this instance, I don’t think words quite could describe the way my heart is throbbing. Eyes fall on me the moment I pass the eroded gates that separate the cemetery from the cobblestone pavement. I am wearing a dress that is a charcoal coloured black and covers practically every part of me since I knew if I wore anything that showcased my chest or above my knee I’d be deemed as scandalous. My head is held low intentionally to escape the glances I feel from my peripheral vision. I had been dreading this day ever

since I received the death certificate of my now deceased husband.

“Look who decided to show.” I hear my mother-in-law whisper to her younger son who seemed to just shake his head at her remarks. Alice was the epitome of my existence. From the moment I was wedded to her eldest son, it was as though someone had shot her in the leg. Because of course, marrying a woman like me was so unthinkable and undesirable. At least in her eyes. The funeral commences, his casket is brought out, carried by his best friends, Naveed, Atlas and several others of whose names I seemed to have forgotten. It was hard to fixate on anyone other than the man who lays before us. A pastor speaks his lengthy speech at the pedestal, his eyes occasionally glancing at us then flickering back at the casket that had golden engravings that coated the wooden material. I try to hold back my tears, but I cannot deny the burning sensation that is building in the back of my throat.

The time comes to where people are permitted to get in contact with his casket to say their final goodbyes before he is left to stay in this garden of death for the rest of eternity. A stolen life, that’s what this was. Alice steps forward first alongside Leone, my father-in-law, who was arguably not as cruel as his wife but stooped to her level whenever he enabled her bad behaviour. A loud sob exits her trembling mouth whilst Leone consolidates her from his standing position, wiping his eyes with the small napkin that was tucked into the pocket of his suit. The sheer sound of her grieving yell alone makes my blood run cold. Despite my anger for that woman, I know that above anything was the love for her son. Even if she didn’t show it all of the time, it was still evident in the way she presented herself. It’s weird how grief can change a person. It turns you into the worst version of yourself. After several antagonizing minutes, it’s my turn to say goodbye. I promised myself I wouldn’t shed a tear. I wouldn’t allow my emotions to overthrow me but of course, that is simply impossible when you’re cherishing the person who was your will to live.

I so desperately want to open the casket to see his face. To see his grey eyes crash into mine one last time. To feel the warmth of his smile and how his eyebrows would furrow every time he laughed. I noticed everything. I had analyzed him to the point I remembered every detail. Every imperfection, every insecurity he forced himself to believe was unattractive which I deemed to be my version of perfect. I mumble words that reassure me, and others I yet again seem to forget. My hands ran down the smooth, white wooden material as tears spewed down my eyes faster than I could try to stop them. I could stay here for hours. I would love to. But with the impatience of his family, I know my time is limited. My tears transition into an uncontrollable sob that is so raw and unsettling the thought of it forms goosebumps on my skin. I’d like to imagine his spirit is with us in some way. I look up to the sky, eyes still glistening with a substance I am quite unfamiliar with. Adonis. A beautiful name for a beautiful boy. A man who was so full with joy that it spilt on its face through his eyes and lips in the form of a smile and a laugh.

I step away, planting my tulips among the sea of other florals that surrounded his casket as it descended, varying in size and colour. Individually, everyone placed a collection of flowers just like I did. I found it ironic that I was the only person who had brought tulips, despite that being his favourite flower whilst the majority were roses and sunflowers. As the ceremony came to an end, I noticed that my nephew, Aster, had come rushing over to me, his small hands lifting in the air with the desperation to be held. I wiped the tear that had drained down my cheek before gracefully carrying him on my hip. “Are you coming to dinner?” He manages to say whilst jangling the toy his fingers gripped onto with a strong force. “Uhm, I am not too sure.”

“Well you are a part of the family, aren’t you?” Alice states passive aggressively, almost as if it’s through gritted teeth. I don’t respond, just continue to walk beside her to the car they had rented. “Do you want me to take him from you?” She insists, reaching her arms out, barely looking at me and more so to Aster who was perfectly fine. “I think he’s fine, hm?” I respond, detached from any kind of emotion. He nods to which she just huffs, quickening her pace to match her husband that was walking alongside Elias, the youngest of Adonis’ siblings.

I sat in the backseat of the car, fastening the stretchy material of the seatbelt around me as the car jolted to our secondary destination which happened to be a restaurant. The host meets us at the front, greeting us with a warm smile before leading us to the more secluded section towards the back that was surrounded by empty tables and melancholic music. We all managed to fit on one long table with two highchairs for the toddlers. I sat on the far end, shrugging off my jacket that still lingered with Adonis’ scent. Everything brought me back. A waitress came along with a small notepad held in her hand as she took our orders. I ordered something small off of the laminated menu since I didn’t have an appetite. After an awkward wait, the food arrives, steam bellowing in the air with its smell enveloping me. “I’d like to make a toast.” Adeline, Adonis’ younger sister, stated, her voice tearing through the lethal silence. “Adonis was a great man. An amazing father and I am sure a phenomenal husband.” Her eyes meet mine, with nothing more than a pensive stare.

Me and Adonis were happily married for just over a year before he suggested a divorce. It was out of nowhere. Completely unexpected. Despite the love I carry for my husband, I can not deny the anger that has been lingering in my chests within the past few days. After exchanging this earthshattering news, he fled the city, leaving me isolated by the cruel actions orchestrated by him. When I asked him to elaborate, he simply told me it was too complicated to be explained. “How have you been holding on, Arabella?” I only realized I was being spoken to when my name was attached to that unfathomable question. How was I holding on? There are a multitude of ways I could respond to this question, so I hesitate before giving an answer. “I’m…okay. Just trying to process everything.”

“I am sure you’re hurting,” Elias reassures me, his eyes meeting mine with the type of sympathy his family seemed to be deprived of. All I see is Alice’s head sway from side to side in disapproval, and I can feel the anger surge through my veins, my internal thoughts screaming at me to retaliate. “Do you have something to say?” I find the courage to say, my breath hitching as her gaze shifted to meet mine. “I didn’t want to say anything.”

“It’s just that you seem to disagree. What’s on your mind?”

“I just don’t think you’re as innocent as you pretend that you are.” The table is brought to an eerie type of silence that was built off tension. “What are you trying to say?”

“My son killed himself. I have to live with that. You lost your husband, I lost my son. Clearly he was unhappy with all of this.” Tears swell in her eyes and fall down her face as she blinks rapidly. “I am not trying to invalidate your pain.” I say finally, my fingers caressing the golden details that coated the wedding ring that I refused to remove off my finger. It wasn’t just a fashion accessory to me. It was a staple of our relationship. A reminder of the vow we made to each other last April. That was worth more than anything to me. “It’s you. Arabella, this is you, not me.” Her voice began to increase in volume until her words seemed to bounce off the walls in a raspy yell that formed goosebumps on my skin. “He was miserable! You did this!” Alice responds harshly, and her words have the same effect as a dagger to the heart. Her hand reaches for the wine glass that was only a matter of inches away from the edge of the table, attempting to throw it in my direction. Leone holds her down forcibly just as the glass slips from her reach, smashing onto the table beneath us, the glass shattering into several large fragments that flew dangerously close to where my hand had once been resting.

She continues to yell but her words don’t process in my mind. All sound seems to blur into one muffled noise that leaves me lunging from my seat as her rage further escalates. “You’re insane.” I mutter with pure disgust, turning on my heel to the furthest direction from the chaos that had just erupted. Next thing I know, I am slouched against a lamp post, my vision blurred by tears I can’t seem to control as I was left with nothing but the sound of traffic to comfort me. I begin to go through my phone, desperate to find something that can distract me from the war occurring in my mind. But instead, I found something I somehow had missed. A voicemail left by an unknown number. Driven by curiosity, my fingers click onto the icon that begins to play the audio. “Arabella? If you are hearing this, it’s Adonis. I am sorry, I am sure you hate me right now, and rightfully so. There’s so much explaining I have to do. I don’t know how they expect me to fill it within a minute’s slot.” Adonis. His voice is heavy and almost as if he’s out of breath. Despite the low quality of the short snippet of sound, I can still identify it is him due to the deepness of his voice.

“The divorce thing, it’s not me. You know me, it’s not my idea at all. My mother, she’s…blackmailing me with this, this thing I did ages ago. She told me that if I don’t divorce she’d spread this secret everywhere, it would ruin everything. Our lives, my career, and she’s serious about it. I could tell by the look in her eyes she meant it. I know you’re upset. We’ll work this out. I’ve been with my parents since I left but I wanted to leave you this message. Crap, okay, bye Arabella, love you, always, remember that.” I never considered how much this simple voicemail could contribute to the whirlwind of thoughts that are spiralling in my mind. I can still see the faint glow of the restaurant from afar and decide to begin my way back after wiping the tears that had smudged my mascara. They were all still sitting at the table as waitresses surrounded the area, still clearing the shards of glass that had somehow managed to find their way onto the floor just below my hanging jacket. Everything seems to be happening so fast but I just simply do not have the time to process things right now. I lower myself back in my seat and despite what had kicked off earlier, the atmosphere of the moment seems to have calmed down.

“I didn’t mean to go off on you like that.” She states with a look that is the closest to apologetic I have seen on her face. And I don’t know if it’s the effect of the red wine I had consumed but I almost saw some remorse that glimmered in her eyes. “I get it. Grief does weird things to people. But it doesn’t give you an excuse to accuse me of such things. And I don’t mean to continue this gruelling conversation for any longer but, Adonis died of an overdose, yes?” Several people nod and I know that this subject must be uncomfortable for many at this table but it needed to be said. I needed that clarification. “I won’t forget how we found him.” Leone mumbled, sharing a similar expression as his wife had written on her face. “His face was so pale and he was just lying there lifelessly on the ground. He must have taken the whole bottle of the anti-depressents.” She added, and I can’t help but let out a little laugh of irony. “From what I remember, he only had enough of his prescription for one more night. I specifically remember that because the day before he left he told me how he was running low on medication. I could hear how hollow the bottle sounded.” Her face twists and her eyes darken by the information I stated, and for once those who had avoided my eye contact stared at me with confusion.

“And he wasn’t on antidepressants.” I add again, a smile forming on my pursed lips. One that carried the sheer anger and satisfaction that was radiating through my bones. “He was on Clomipramane. A medicine to treat his OCD. Not depression. You would know that…right?”

“What are you trying to say?” Leone adds, his jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed.

“That there was no way he would have been able to ‘take the whole bottle’ if there were only a few left.”

“Arabella, stop it.”

“You must have tampered with his medication. Gave him a bigger dose deliberately.”

“Arabella.”

“We all know Adonis wasn’t suicidal. He wouldn’t have done that. It was you. You changed his prescription without him knowing and now everyone thinks this was just a simple suicide. Just an overdose. And what, you blame me? I loved him. More than anything. And for you to say I had anything to do with his death is sickening. I would die for him. I would die a million times if it meant he could breathe again.”

“Watch your mouth,” her voice is laced with a predatory manner that for once doesn’t seem to have the same effect it once did. It was as though the grip she had of me was suddenly loose and I was able to see her without latching onto my fear. “You’re not denying it.” I noticed how everyone at the table seemed to see her differently. There was a glint of disgust that shimmered in their eyes as their gaze shifted between Leone and Alice. “That’s not true. None of you know shit.” She spoke through gritted teeth, leaning forward so that her breath invaded my privacy. “It wasn’t intentional.” The words slipped from her mouth as my fingers slithered through the material of my purse and held my phone in my hand, dialling the digits 9-1-1 faster than I could comprehend the situation.

They say you can’t choose your family, but you can choose your friends. And unfortunately for Adonis, he ended up with a family whose love was so fragmented they would terminate his life just to separate him from someone who his heart called out to. I will never forget the cruelty of Alice and Leone, because no matter how much I can curse them under my breath, Adonis will never be brought back to life. There is an image that will forever be engraved in my mind. That is the glint of hope and sorrow that glimmered in his eyes the day he left. I remember how his grey eyes darkened as the words left his mouth. Now those same grey eyes will remain shut for the remainder of eternity by the actions of someone who was supposed to shield and protect him from violence. Adonis was my past present and my future. I don’t think I will ever be able to comprehend the death of him, but I know that the process of acceptance for me will be a long road I simply am not ready for. But I will do it for the sake of Adonis. I am sure he would want me to proceed with life. He would want that for me. And the thought of that gives me the strength to develop into the best version of myself.

The end.

WORD COUNT: 2,904.