CARL
Alma left quite the impression from the moment she stepped onto the podium till the moment she climbed back down. It felt like I was in a daze, completely mesmerized by her mannerisms and confidence. She exuded such a compelling aura that I almost couldn't overlook, and I was sure that every one of us seated felt the same way.
Her power was grabbing, and my eyes lingered on her lips, reading every single word as she said them. They plagued my brain, so much so I could recite everything she'd said from top to bottom.
Where did I go wrong? How did I miss having such a person by my side? The moment I spent on that seat continued to fuel my self-hate. I hurt her. I hurt her so much, and I couldn't take it back. I couldn't undo it, and second chances were rare.
To top it all, I had a wife. God. I fucked up. I fucked up so bad that it gnawed at my chest, eating away at it so slowly.
I made a fool out of myself by constantly staring at her and making subtle eye contact. Every time her eyes met mine, a smile crawled up my lips, the kind that I couldn't help. I was proud of the gorgeous, successful, and confident young woman that she'd become. I think I was getting used to the fact that she had evolved way more than my mind could ever comprehend.
When Alma was done with her speech, I was the first to start an applause. I couldn't care how stupid it made me look. I just wanted her to know that I was there, rooting for her. When she got off the podium and started to find her way out, I stood up, too, with the intention of talking to her. I just needed a brief conversation and answers to the questions that kept me up at night.
I didn't deserve any of it, and I was aware, but I couldn't kill this feeling and the fire that burned inside of me. Alma's presence brought out all the emotions that I thought I had sorted out. After our divorce, I made myself believe that she was a bad person. I stuffed down that guilt and gaslit myself into thinking I made the right decision to deal with Linda's madness.
It was the dumbest and worst decision that I'd ever made, and the guilt plagued me, following around every day of my life as it hovered over my head. I still remember that day like the back of my palm, and the phone calls that still shattered me up until now.
Looking at Alma just a step away from me made me question how I survived without her all these years. Why did I act so shitty? Why did I make those decisions?
Right before I could chase after her for a conversation, Linda walked in with a bouquet of flowers that I instantly recognized. Hibiscuses. Alma was deathly allergic to those. I picked up the pace to stop her from taking it, but when I looked up, Alma was sniffing those flowers.
My jaw slacked, and I was rooted in that spot. Did everything about her change? Alma couldn't touch hibiscuses at all, but she accepted them. The same look I had on my face mirrored Linda's. The shock of confusion. It didn't take long for Alma to walk away after dumping the flower back to Linda, and Linda approached, looking as sour as sour could be.
"Hey, my love, can you believe that?" she waved the flowers on my face, her eyes bulgy with apprehension. "She perceived the flowers, Carl. She didn't--"
"What were your intentions when you gave them to her? To see her shock to death?" I attacked, failing to hold back my temper. "Quit being childish, Linda, and go home!"
Her lips twitched as though she wanted to say something. I acted like I didn't see the tears well up in her eyes. She gulped hard, inhaling deeply before saying anything. "I have an appointment with the doctor. Will you come with me?"
Now, my impatience was beginning to seep in. Right now, I didn't even want to be next to her, not to mention being in the same car as her. I shook my head slightly. "I have a meeting with some of the shareholders in a while and--"
"I can wait!"
"It's a doctor's appointment, Linda. It can't be shifted. Just go and get it done. I'd see you at home."
Linda pouted, steepling her fingers. "Alright then." She leaned in and kissed my lips briefly. "I'd see you at home...and I'd be waiting. Dressed in my best lingerie for you!"
I winced involuntarily. My mind alone couldn't contain my disgust, so it seeped into my facial expression. I managed a nod, and Linda walked away after winking at me. Tugging at my tie, I heaved a sigh and immediately headed for Alma's office. That discussion wasn't going to bypass me today.
A knock on the door and her gentle voice ushered me in. She didn't know I was the one, or she never would have. I pushed the door open and stepped in, only to be met by her stern glare.
"LEAVE NOW!" She rose from her seat and pointed to the door. She didn't say anything more, but I just couldn't walk away.
If anything, she needed to know how sorry I was. "Alma, please listen to me!" I implored gently, burning under her fiery gaze. "I wouldn't have come here just to be a nuisance. I just want to talk, okay? Just hear me out."
She scoffed and came out of the sitting area, approaching me. Her arms were lightly folded across her chest, and each step Alma took rhymed with my heartbeat.
"A nuisance is exactly what you're being. What is it that you want to say to me that I don't possibly know?" She inquired in a mocking tone. "Oh, that you're sorry? You thought about your behavior, and you realized how much of a bitch you were, and you want forgiveness? Or that you didn't mean to fuck my step-sister immediately after divorcing me?"
I was dumbfounded hearing all these from her. It sent me down a slippery edge, and the torment was appalling. I hadn't seen myself in such a horrible light before, and it happened exactly as she said, except I never cheated on Alma. Even then, I didn't have the guts to.
"Oh, wait! You loved her while you were married to me for three fucking years!" now Alma was standing directly in front of me, staring right into my eyes, and all I could see in hers was the coldness reflecting in them.
There wasn't a little bit of emotion or tolerance for me. "Did you think about her every night we slept together? How long did you go wishing I were her, Carl?"
"You know that's not true. That is not true, Alma. I do not deserve your attention or forgiveness, but you should at least give me a chance to explain!"
"Explain what? How many nights have you woke up by my side to wish I was Linda?" her voice rang deep inside my ears. Those words flowed with so much ease, and I could hear the hurt in them. It was almost unnoticeable— Alma had strengthened her facade so that I almost couldn't see through it.
"I made a mistake," I breathed, my words caught in my throat. "I did the--"
My sentence vanished into dust when she stepped away from me, delving into a peal of heavy laughter. My lips remained parted, and my brows pinched together in confusion while I watched Alma laugh.
She was laughing at me. God, it hurt! It hurt so much. "You should see your face right now." Alma slurred before she paused to catch her breath. "You look pathetic, and it's just so...funny. When did you become such a considerate man? It's...not a good look on you, Pal. Now, if you're done with this pep talk, how about you walk out that door."
I was caught at a crossroads, left with the decision of probing while every iota of my pride was at stake or walking away to try conversing with her later.
She had changed so much. Alma cocked her head when I didn't make a move and broke through the silence that taunted the room. "If you won't leave, I will. Standing under the same roof as you makes me retch," she declared coldly.
She grabbed her bag and was about to brush by me when I pulled her back into my arms. I thought I could handle it, but I couldn't. My hand in contact with her skin shut down my thinking process, and all I did was gawk at her while refusing to let her go.
Her body fit right in my hand, and I was reminded of how familiar I was with it. If Alma's body were a poem, then I could recite every line and every stanza.
"Are you insane!" her exclamations weren't words alone. It was backed up by a light hit to my cheeks. She slapped me, and I swear I'd turn the other side of my cheek to her if need be. "The next time you lay a finger on me, Carl. I'd do everything in my power to make you more miserable than you already are, you sick asshole!"
She stormed out, but for once, for once in a long time, being called a sick asshole was the biggest compliment of my life.
*
The air was different today. It didn't reek of alcohol or cigarettes like I expected when I opened the door. Rather, it was an inviting aroma of cheese and something else I couldn't quite pinpoint. Linda cooked?
Who died? Or, who was going to die? Linda hadn't used a kitchen spoon in two years. We've survived off ordering and my cooking, which I seldom do as it was particularly encouraged. What begged for an occasion like this one? She came running to me at the door and threw her arms around me.
Her grin spread from ear to ear, and she looked particularly ecstatic. It was a sight I hadn't seen in a while, but it wasn't nearly enough to make up for all that madness she's displayed. "I've been waiting for you, my love!"
I sighed softly, scrunching my nose as I watched her. "Did something happen?" I asked, point blank. I wasn't a fan of beating around the bush. Linda fixed her hand on mine and pulled me to the dining table.
"Let's have dinner first," she said, sitting me down and undoing my tie. "It must have been such a hectic day for you."
Besides getting slapped, not exactly. She continued. "And I'm sorry about that, my love. You should eat, and...we can talk about the great news that I have to share."
According to Linda, great could mean a wide variety of things, even boiling down to the things that were definitely not great. It was unsettling. What could have made her this excited? Had she done something to Alma? "Let's talk about this...great news first. I'm very curious."
"No, you should eat first," she beamed. Even the food was scary. There wasn't a way in hell I was touching that. Why was she suddenly cooking after all these years and that clearly wasn't the only thing wrong here.
"Linda..."
"Alright, Alright," she smiled and placed a quick kiss on my nose again. Linda leaned over and reached for a piece of paper that she handed to me. "Here, read it."
"Hm." I took it from her and unfolded it, eager to see the content of it. The hospital stamp sat at the top edge of the paper, and when my eyes drifted down, I was hit by the biggest blow.
"I'm pregnant, my love. I'm carrying your child!"
What?