Drowning into sorrow

 

★★★★

 

Edith walked on the road aimlessly. Her feet dragged along the pavement like a broken doll left to wander. What she had seen was the one thing she had never imagined in her dream.

 

She had been a fool patthetically, blindly in love. He was drunk, yet she chose to trust him.

 

What a delusion.

 

She had never been chosen. She had only been acquired, like something purchased because it was necessary, not because it was wanted.

 

Heartbroken, she came to a halt and scanned the road for a cab. She had no home to return to, no one to call, no shoulder to cry on.

 

When a taxi finally pulled up in front of her, she opened the door and slid inside.

 

“Take me to the busiest bar in town,” she said.

 

Her voice was flat, hard and edged with something hollow. The eyes that had once been bright with hope were now distant, drained of warmth.

 

The driver hesitated, glancing at her through the rearview mirror.

 

“I don’t know many bars that would suit someone like you, Madam,” he said cautiously. “But I can take you to one where the rich preferred to spend their nights.”

 

He studied her reflection briefly. Even in her broken state, she carried herself like someone who did not belong to the ordinary family.

 

“Yes,” Edith murmured.

 

She leaned her head against the cold window, staring at the darkened sky as the city lights blurred past. Tears slipped silently down her cheeks, one after another, and the weight inside her chest grew heavier with every mile.

 

★★★★

 

Meanwhile, back at the mansion, Freya gently set her teacup down on the polished table before her.

 

A welcoming smile curved her lips as her younger son entered the room.

 

“Markrum,” she said warmly, “ Where have you been? You didn’t come home last night, and your father mentioned you were not at the office this morning either.” Her tone softened, but her eyes sharpened with interest. “Is there something you are hiding from me?”

 

“Yeah, mom!” Markrum said casually as he dropped onto the seat beside her. Slipping an arm around her shoulders he grinned. “Your son has decided to get married.”

 

“What?” Freya gasped, rising abruptly from her seat. “Really? Oh my God!”

 

Her face lit up with unrestrained excitement as she turned toward him, her eyes shining with pure delight.

 

“You do not know how much I am longing to hear this. Tell me now who is the lucky girl.”

 

Markrum flashed his mother a playful smile and rose from his seat.

 

“A girl from the graveyard,” he said lightly. “I heard she died in 1990. And somehow she stole my heart.”

 

The moment he turned away after finishing his sentence, Freya’s smile vanished.

 

Irritation flared across her face.

 

She snatched a small cushion from the sofa and hurled it at him. “ I am sick of your ridiculous jokes!” She snapped. “You are no longer a teenager, do you hear me? It is time you found a woman to marry or allow me to choose someone suitable for you.”

 

“I am not old either,” Markrum said lazily as he walked toward the dining area. “Besides you already have a daughter-in-law in this house. As a mere spectator, I have seen how beautifully that marriage is progressing.”

 

Freya rose at once, irritation tightening her expression as she followed him.

 

“Do not compare that wretched woman to any other woman in this world,” she said sharply.

 

“Your wife will be someone who understands how this family runs. And this time I will not let your father interfere in your marriage.”

 

Markrum poured himself a glass of water, taking an unhurried sip before replying, “Then why not ask Jamie to divorce her, if she is such a burden?”

 

Freya let out a cold laugh. “You know very well why. Your father is the only reason she is still breathing under this roof. Otherwise, Jamie would have thrown her out long ago.”

 

“Is that so?” Markrum turned slowly to face her, one brow lifting in doubt.

 

“Why are you looking at me like this?” Freya frowned.

 

“You know that’s not the truth,” Markrum said quietly. “It may please you to believe it, but deep down, you know you have never truly understood him.”

 

He exhaled and turned to leave.

 

Freya’s lips curved firmly. “ Jamie has always been complicated,” she replied coolly. “But he cannot hide everything from me.” A glint of satisfaction flickered in her eyes. “Not even his decision to cheat on Edith.”

 

Markrum stopped mid-step. Then he turned around slowly.

 

Freya met his gaze without flinching. “He is at a hotel right now with another woman. And Edith went there to see it for herself.” She gave a delicate shrug. “Nothing is more satisfying than letting someone witness their own ruin.”

 

Her smile broadened.

 

“I have been walking on the edge of a knife, trying to remove her from this family. But couldn’t.” She leaned back slightly, pleased with herself. “ I think I will sleep very well tonight.”

 

Silence thickened between them.

 

Markrum’s expression darkened.

 

“Where is she?” Something shifted in Markrum’s voice, he no longer sounded leisurely.

 

“Why do you care?” Freya sniggered.

 

Markrum took a slow step toward her, his expression unreadable. “ Instead of questioning me,” he said evenly, “Answer me.”

 

And for the first time, Freya felt the slightest flickering of unease.

 

“I do not know where she is, or what she is doing,” Freya snapped. “ And I have no interest in finding out.” Her voice carried open disdain.

 

Markrum’s hand curled into a fist.

 

Without another word he turned sharply and sprinted toward the door, leaving Freya standing there in stunned confusion.

 

She hurried after him, her heels tracking harshly against the marble floor. “Markrum, where are you going?” She shouted. “I said stop, Markrum.”

 

Her voice was loud enough to resonate throughout the house, but it was not commanding enough to stop Markrum from leaving.

 

She stopped at the door, her chest rising and falling with anger. She did not want her son to ruin anything tonight because tomorrow she wished to see that wretched girl disappear from her life forever.

 

★★★★

 

Back in a bar, Edith sat in a corner alone as the blaring music deafened her thoughts. She wanted to drown her sorrow in some way, but she did not know how to. At the time, a man arrived and knocked on the table with drinks. “Are you alone?” He asked, leaning forward to Edith.

 

Edith looked up with lost eyes.