Twenty four hours have felt like a life time.
Since entering the house I have been awed by its simple beauty and elegance. Is this really my house? My taste? I remember and long for the clutter and comfort of my parent's house. The warmth of books and the peaceful flutter of dust particles dancing in the afternoon light.
I fear that this house will be cold to me no matter what the temperature.
Photographs are littered throughout the rooms, the wedding ones,.. our wedding ones make me feel the most uncomfortable. Smiles filled with love and warmth are a far cry from the uneasy tension of our current relationship. I have been honoured with the master bedroom, I know not where Joseph sleeps.
Joseph. I roll his name around in my mind and from my tongue in the empty rooms but nothing, other than that brief electrical surge of his hand on my arm, can be recalled from my damaged memories. Through the day I was left under the supervision of a house keeper, another stranger, who thankfully talks at me in a way that relaxes the apprehension in my shoulders.
I have so many questions but I almost fear the answers so keep them to myself. Who is this battered and bruised woman I find in my reflection? I almost panic when I don't even recognise my own, older, face. I know at some point I will need to start moving forward with this life I have been thrown into. I only wish I knew how.
As with the previous night my husband has requested that we eat together. I have heard him return from work but he has not sort me out. Leaving the whitewash of the bathroom I find him stood in the bedroom doorway. Each time I see him I am startled to observe how beautiful he is. He walks with me to the dining room.
We sit, we eat, the conversation does not progress further than the weather. Then I shock him with my question.
"When did I fall in love with you?"
He shocks me in turn with his answer...
"I wasn't aware that you ever had."
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