Rose



I wake up to the piercing rays of sunlight streaming through the curtains, accompanied by a throbbing headache. Clutching the blanket tightly around me, I reach for a cigarette and sink back into the couch. It’s 6:30 in the morning, and I can’t fathom why anyone would dare call me at this ungodly hour.

Ignoring the persistent ringing, I let out a heavy sigh of relief as the phone finally falls silent. But my relief is short-lived, shattered by a resounding bang from the front door. I exhale wearily, wishing Susan were here to chase away unwelcomed visitors. However, she’s long gone, because of a decision I made to dismiss every housekeeper in this cursed house.

Slipping on my slippers, I reluctantly open the door, suppressing the urge to roll my eyes when I see Caroline standing on my doorstep.

“And here I thought you had died.” she quips, strolling in without so much as a hello.

I close the door behind her and wearily return to my previous spot on the couch. “What brings you here, dear sister?” I inquire, my gaze fixed upon her.

“What’s going on?” she counters, studying me from head to toe, a hint of sympathy in her eyes. I shrug indifferently. “Nothing.” I say followed by a sigh, I rise and make my way to the kitchen. “Would you like some tea or coffee?” Caroline trails behind me. “I don’t want coffee or tea; I want to know what’s gotten into you.”

“What’s gotten into me?” I turn to face her, my voice tinged with frustration. “I don’t know. How about the fact that I feel suffocated in this god damn marriage? Everything happened too quickly, and in the blink of an eye, I was married and jobless, expected to simply spend money and attend fancy parties that I happen to despise. I miss the old me—the independent woman who wasn’t tied down in this massive, desolate house. Did you know there are rooms in this house I’ve never set foot in? That’s how vast and empty it feels. I miss working at that cosy café, and I miss my little flat.”

“Oh, Rose,” Caroline murmurs, sinking into a chair. “I had no idea you felt this way.”

I stub out the cigarette on the ashtray and lean against the kitchen island. “I love Senzo, God knows how much I do, but I can’t bear the weight of this marriage any longer. His love is suffocating and possessive, leaving me gasping for air. I want out of this marriage, yet still have the freedom to date him, you know?”

“Have you told Senzo how you feel?” Caroline asks gently.

“In your right mind, do you really think Senzo would willingly release me? Just like that?” My voice carries a tone of resignation, mirroring the weight of my inner turmoil.