Too Late, Mr. Blackwood

The apartment was too quiet. Not peaceful. Not comforting. Just quiet in the way an empty room becomes quiet when you have spent too many hours waiting for someone who was never going to come. I sat alone at the dining table, staring at the candle between us. Between two plates. Two glasses. Two untouched places. The candle had burned low hours ago. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, New York glittered beneath the darkness. Cars moved through the streets far below, their headlights disappearing into the night like tiny stars. I checked the clock again. 11:47 p.m. My third wedding anniversary would be over in thirteen minutes. I let out a slow breath and looked down at my phone. No messages. No calls. Nothing from Adrian. Of course. I shouldn't have been surprised. Still, disappointment has a strange way of hurting even when you expected it. I picked up my phone and opened our conversation. The last message from me had been sent almost four hours ago. Elena: Are you coming home for dinner? Seen. No reply. I stared at the small word beneath my message. Seen. It was almost funny. Three years of marriage reduced to one word. Seen. But not answered. I placed my phone back on the table. Across from me, Adrian's plate sat untouched. His favorite meal had gone cold hours ago. I had cooked it myself. Not because he asked me to. Adrian rarely asked for anything. He simply existed around me with the quiet expectation that everything would already be taken care of. His coffee in the morning. His clothes prepared for important meetings. Dinner when he came home late. A clean apartment. A wife was waiting for him. For three years, I had been good at waiting. I looked at the small cake sitting beside the candle. It is embarrassing now. A simple chocolate cake with strawberries on top. Adrian's favorite. I had even asked the bakery to write something on it. Three Years. I reached for the small decoration and removed it. The words suddenly felt ridiculous. Three years of what? Marriage? Love? Or simply sharing the same last name? The sound of the elevator arriving outside the apartment made me freeze. My heart reacted before my mind could stop it. I turned toward the entrance. For one stupid second, hope rose inside me. Maybe he remembered. Maybe he had been late because he was planning something. Maybe he would walk through the door with flowers. Maybe he would smile and apologize. Maybe— The front door opened. Adrian walked inside. He looked exactly as he always did after work. Perfect. Dark suit. White shirt. Tie loosened slightly. His hair was pushed back from his forehead, though a few strands had fallen out of place. He was beautiful in the way expensive things were beautiful. Untouchable. Cold. Difficult to possess. He closed the door behind him and finally noticed me sitting at the table. His eyes moved from my face to the dinner. Then to the candle. For a moment, I waited. One second. Two. Three. Nothing changed in his expression. He loosened his tie. "You're still awake." That was it. I looked at him. "Yes." Adrian walked toward the kitchen. "I told you not to wait for me." I almost laughed. But I didn't remember him telling me anything. "Did you?" He stopped briefly. His eyes shifted toward me. "What?" "You said you told me not to wait for you." I forced a small smile. "I don't remember you saying that." Adrian looked tired. Not guilty. Not apologetic. Just tired. "I was busy today, Elena." There it was. The explanation I hadn't asked for. Busy. Adrian Blackwood was always busy. Busy enough to forget dinner. Busy enough to forget conversations. Busy enough to forget me. I looked down at the table. "I know." He opened the refrigerator. "Did you eat?" The question surprised me. I looked at him. He was standing with his back to me, taking a bottle of water from the refrigerator. "No." "You should." I stared at him. Something inside me twisted. Not because he was cruel. Adrian was rarely cruel. That would have been easier. At least cruelty required emotion. Anger. Dislike. Something. But Adrian didn't hate me. I sometimes wondered if that was the problem. He simply didn't feel enough about me to hate me. He drank from the bottle. "Did you eat?" I asked. "No." "I made your favorite." He glanced toward the table. "Thanks." Thanks. I swallowed. "Adrian." He looked at me. "Hm?" For one moment, I almost asked him. Do you know what day it is? But the question felt pathetic before it even left my mouth. If I had to remind him, would it matter? Would it change anything? So, instead, I asked for something else. "How was your day?" He walked toward the table but didn't sit. "Long." "Anything happen?" "A meeting ran over. We had an issue with the Hudson project." I nodded. He picked up his phone from his pocket. The screen lit up. His expression changed immediately. Not dramatically. Just enough for me to notice. His attention was somewhere else. "Who is it?" I asked. Adrian glanced at me. "Victoria." My fingers tightened beneath the table. "Oh." "She needs something regarding tomorrow's meeting." Of course, she did. Victoria Sterling. His childhood friend. His business associate. The woman everyone had expected him to marry before I entered his life. I had spent three years telling myself there was nothing between them. Maybe there wasn't. Maybe that wasn't even what hurt. The problem was that Adrian always had time to answer her. His phone began ringing. He looked at the screen. Then at me. "I have to take this." I smiled. A small, practiced smile. "Of course." He answered before reaching the balcony. "Victoria." I stared at Adrian's untouched plate. My chest felt strangely empty. No anger. No tears. Just emptiness. The clock changed. 11:58 p.m. Two minutes. I looked at the cake. At the candle. At dinner, I had spent hours preparing. Then I looked toward the balcony. Adrian stood outside, speaking quietly into his phone. He looked relaxed. Focused. Present. I couldn't remember the last time he had looked at me that way. I slowly reached for my wedding ring. My fingers stopped. The ring had been on my hand for three years. A beautiful diamond. Expensive. Perfect. Just like everything Adrian had ever given me. Except his time. Except for his attention. Except himself. I twisted the ring slowly. My heart beat painfully against my chest. One more minute. I removed it. The ring felt heavier in my palm than it ever had on my finger. 11:59 p.m. I placed it beside my plate. For the first time in three years, my hand felt unfamiliar without it. Then the clock changed. 12:00 a.m. Our anniversary was over. And Adrian still hadn't noticed. I stood at the table. The movement caught his attention through the glass. He turned slightly. I smiled at him. He didn't smile back. He simply continued his conversation. Something inside me finally became quiet. Not broken. Not completely. Just quiet. As if a part of me had finally stopped fighting. I walked toward the bedroom. Behind me, the candle flickered one last time. Then we went out. I didn't sleep. I packed. Not much. Just the things that belonged to me. Clothes. Books. My old sketchbooks. The photographs Adrian had never looked at. The small box containing letters I had written but never given him. I left everything else behind. The dresses he bought me. The jewelry. The expensive handbags. The life that looked beautiful from the outside. Around two in the morning, Adrian finally came to bed. I heard him enter. He paused when he saw me lying awake. "You're still up?" I stared at the ceiling. "Yes." He removed his watch. "Go to sleep." That was all. I closed my eyes. A few minutes later, the lights were turned off. The bed shifted as Adrian lay down beside me. There was space between us. There had always been space between us. Even when his body was inches away. I stared into the darkness. "Adrian?" He was quiet. Then: "What?" I swallowed. My voice came out softer than I expected. "If I left tomorrow..." I paused. My heart was beating too fast. "Would you notice?" For several seconds, Adrian said nothing. I almost turned toward him. Almost hoped. Then he sighed. "Elena." My name sounded tired in his mouth. "Don't start this again." My eyes closed. I smiled in the darkness. Not because it was funny. Because suddenly, I understood. I had spent three years trying to become important enough for him to notice me. Three years believing that if I loved him a little more... Waited a little longer... Asked for a little less... Maybe one day he will look at me and finally see me. But perhaps the problem wasn't that Adrian couldn't see me. Perhaps... He simply never wanted to. I didn't say another word. A few minutes later, his breathing became slow and steady. He had fallen asleep. I turned my head toward him. In the darkness, I could barely see his face. The man I had loved for three years. The man who didn't know that tonight was our anniversary. The man who didn't know that tomorrow... I was leaving. And for the first time since becoming his wife, I didn't wonder if he would stop me. I wondered how long it would take him to realize I was gone.