Chapter 2: Happy Birthday To Me

With shaky steps, I left the dining room behind, my wine glass clutched tightly in my hand. The familiar path to the piano room seemed longer tonight. As I pushed open the door, the soft glow of moonlight illuminated the grand piano sitting majestically in the center of the room. With a heavy heart, I crossed the threshold, the cool air of the room wrapping around me.

Sinking onto the chair in front of the piano, I reached out to press a key, but my trembling fingers betrayed me. Tears blurred my vision as I wiped them away, the ache in my heart threatening to consume me once again.

I was once a pianist prodigy but after witnessing my mother die in front of me, in my piano room, I cannot press a key ever since. I can clearly remember that day like it happened yesterday. It was raining so hard and my mother jumped on the balcony just the time a clash of thunder echoed in the room.

“Why would you even do that, Mom?” I raised the glass to my lips and drank deeply, the warmth of the wine spreading through me.

But then, just as I finished the glass, the sound of the main door echoed through the halls, jolting me back to reality. My heart skipped a beat as I realized that Regan had finally returned home. With a steadying breath, I rose from the chair and walked outside.

The sound of the front door opening made my heart leap with hope, but it quickly sank as I heard Regan stumble in. His disheveled appearance was illuminated by the soft glow of the foyer lights. His dark hair was tousled, strands falling across his forehead. The faint scent of cologne mingled with the unmistakable odor of alcohol that clung to him. His piercing blue eyes looked unfocused. His usually crisp shirt was untucked and wrinkled, his tie hanging loose around his neck.

"Ugh, fuck," he slurred, his words muddled, and his movements unsteady as he kicked off his shoes.

I plastered a weak smile on my face, trying to hide the disappointment. "You're here? I saved you some dinner,"

Regan waved me off dismissively, "Get out of my way," he mumbled, his words barely audible as he stumbled past me.

As he disappeared up the grand staircase of our home, I bit my lip to compose myself. With a resigned sigh, I reached for the cigarette resting in the ashtray. Alone once again, I blew out the candles one by one. The room was enveloped in darkness.

“Happy birthday to me” I whispered.

Another year older, another year of unhappiness. Deep down, I couldn't shake the hope that burned in my soul. Perhaps this year would be different, perhaps this time, things would finally change for me.

After what felt like an eternity of silent contemplation, I mustered the strength to go to our bedroom. As I pushed open the door, the sound of running water greeted me, and I knew Regan was in the shower. With hesitant steps, I approached the bed.

“Ugh,” I groaned as I sat on the edge of the bed.

And then, he emerged, a silhouette against the steam-filled room, his form obscured by the mist. But even in the dim light, I could see the familiar lines of his body, the contours that I knew so well. As his eyes met mine, a fleeting moment of recognition passed between us. Without a word, he closed the distance between us, his movements fluid and effortless.

And then, his lips were on mine. I couldn't help but respond, my body betraying me as I melted into his touch. Just like always.

But even as I lost myself in the sweetness of the moment, a single tear escaped my eye. I loved him, with every fiber of my being, and yet I knew that tomorrow he would return to being cold and distant. Yet, at this moment, as his lips moved against mine with a desperate intensity, I couldn't help but hold onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for us.

……..

The next morning.....

I massage my forehead as my head throbbing from the hangover that now plagued me, I slowly opened my eyes to find Regan standing by the dresser, drying his hair with a towel.

"Morning," I mumbled, my voice raspy with sleep.

He didn't even spare me a glance, his focus solely on getting dressed as if I were nothing more than a piece of furniture in the room. The sting of his indifference pierced through me, but I forced a smile, determined not to let him see how much his disregard hurt. I’ve been doing this for 3 years; I am now used to it.

"Do you even remember what yesterday was?"

Regan paused, his gaze finally flickering towards me for a moment before he continued to fasten his shirt. "I guess just another one of those gatherings my mother insists on attending,"

His words cut deep, a painful reminder of the birthday he had forgotten, of the countless occasions he had overlooked in our years together. But instead of voicing my hurt, I simply nodded, pretending that his answer didn't sting as much as it did.

"And where were you last night?" I couldn't help but ask, even though I already knew the answer. For three years of marriage, I had known, but for three years, I had also feigned ignorance, pretending not to notice the late nights and phone calls.

Regan's eyes flashed with anger as he turned to face me. "Why does it matter?"

I swallowed back the lump in my throat. "I just... I was just curious."

“You are really good at ruining my morning.”

Remaining silent, I forced myself out of bed, covering myself with the robe nearby. I guess I’ll have a long-sleeve dress today since I know I have hickeys everywhere. Ignoring the pounding in my head, I stumbled into the bathroom and went through the motions of getting ready.