In reality, it was only a few days ago that I realized I fell ill.
While baking a birthday cake for Brian, he snatched the ingredients out of my hands and threw them straight into the trash can.
"Stop, I get bored with it."
He used to be fond of it so much.
I asked deliberately, "Brian, are you upset?"
Not until my words finished did I get incontinent actually.
.......
The living room was a mess because of me.
In a short while, those dripping liquid on the floor made me bewildered.
What's happening to me?
Brian's calm face in the same twinkling became tense.
But he just bent down and cleaned up the floor mutely as the final of the trouble.
Without uttering a word.
I followed him, appearing kind of hectic around and discombobulated out of sorts: "Brian, I... I wonder what's wrong with me..."
He repeated washing lots of times his hands before explaining,
"You're sick."
It took me nearly a century, after Brian heading for work, to come to terms with the truth that I suffered a disease, a sort of serious one.
If it weren't for all the thick and thin we’d gone through, Brian might have attempted to dump me a long time ago.
I supposed.
Thoughts clouded and whirling from what just occured, I run to the office to meet Brian at noon.
Instead, I came across Rosalind downstairs.
She draped Brian’s high-end overcoat with a bit slovenly in dust, outwardly slipped down before.
Attachment and reluctance overflowed outright her gaze towards Brian.
While Brian, though feigning detachment, was somehow exposed that he was spellbound by Rosalind, to whom he cast a stare of sentiment in peace, as she lowering her head.
"Rosalind?" I asked softly.
Why was she here?
"Tonight's my birthday, she resigned from her job abroad and will be starting at the company in a few days," answered Brian gently, yet avoiding eye contact with me.
Every time mentioning Rosalind, there would be a glint of tenderness in Brian's pupils.
She is an evergreen tree in his memory.
Like being pierced by a nail, my heart was tingled too hard to surpress my sorrow.
A lump came into my throat, blocking a thousand word in my heart of hearts.
Regardless of Brian's calling behind, I hurried away.
It was late at night when we arrived home after the party.
I was abruptly informed by Brian:
"Rosalind is coming to pay a visit at home in a couple of days. Be well-behaved and do not have a bust up with her."
So overloaded the annoying message I had got to absorb all at once within one day, that I failed to seethe my anger, which reached fever pitch.
"What is she up to something? Is she going to see when I die?"
"Shirley, stop throwing a tantrum."
"I know! I'm sick! No matter what you do to me, I'll forget all about it the next morning. When I wake up, I'll still love you like I used to, won’t I?"
"Brian, why should I be always in tranquil demeanor and keep a lid on emotions? I'm the only one who's been tolerating! "
"If she dares to come, I'll make her regret it!"
Brian stroked the back of my neck, applying a little pressure to render my eyes lock into his.
His eyes softened , saying with a smile hovering in the lips:
"Shirley, you can make as much of a fuss as you want, but all of this is between us. I’m not gonna to involve anbody else. Deal?"
Is he caring for Rosalind in my turf?
I smashed with force the ornaments on the antique shelf to smithereens all over the place.
The room was in total chaos.
Undisturbed, "There are more in the bedroom, and I’ll buy more if it’s not enough to take the edge off. Smash as much as you want." told Brian.
He managed to give me a cold shoulder, which was what definitely drove me insane.
So I bothered him by sinking my teeth into his flesh, biting out blood.
Brian just frowned, holding me straight to the bedroom and murmuring around my ear:
"Be meek tonight. You mischievous elf."
"You've mentioned breaking up with me eighteen times this month, and you don't remember any of it."