Fiction · prose · Short Story

Guilty

From the lingering smell of a girl’s perfume on the collar of your shirt as I snuggle on your neck, I was supposed to feel the warmth of your embrace but I felt cold. Cold as if a bucket full of water with ice was poured on me, as I realised the perfume isn’t mine. It began. Was it a crime to accuse you all at once?
      

I thought it was so the benefit of doubt was the least I could give. But the constant ringing of your phone whenever you were with me and the hint of a smile from your lips as you opened the message told me this doesn’t seem like a text message you’ve received from one of your teammates. It continued. Would I sound like a lawyer if I interrogated you?

      

I didn’t want to sound like a lawyer so I let it pass. We never lied to each other but here was a thing I wouldn’t admit. There were times when I followed you wherever you go because of these aching accusations etched in my mind fuelled by your suspicious actions I couldn’t set aside. It escalated. Could I be sued for being a stalker of someone who was supposed to be the love of my life?

     

At this point I did not care anymore as I sketched an elaborate plan to confirm these suspicions that stopped me from having a peaceful sleep at night. Your actions kept me awake as I recalled the old-you whenever you were with me. I sulked more upon the realisation that you’ve never been this distant before. It led me to drastic measures and could you blame me when you, the supposed love of my life, drifted away as if an ocean is between us? It went out of control. Am I the suspect of this crime?

     

The answer was no. When one day we’re together, you told me you need to go. You brushed me off like dust when I asked and the conversation even heated when all I wanted to know was what was happening between us. You said we were fine but you know damn well we were far from that. The only right thing you did was to leave your phone when you walked out the door and there I saw the main evidence in this mystery I’ve been trying to solve. This last and most crucial clue brought me to the crime scene. I saw you kissing her. It ended. I knew I was the victim and I’m suing you for committing murder.

    

Now don’t you dare tell me that you are not a murderer; because you killed me the moment I saw you with her.

   

-fin-

(featured image courtesy: deviant art)

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