My 3D Lovers

The first time Rose saw Jeffery, he was carrying three plastic bags in his arms. One of them had already yielded to the load of canned goods and had dropped to the ground. She had just come out of a bookshop in the locality, humming to herself, when a can of baked beans was thrown at her feet. Oh, shoot, he said, on his knees picking up the scattered stuff. His fingers touched hers as she reached to get the can. Jeffery raised his eyes and looked up with his brown eyes warm with gratitude and the slightest touch of embarrassment. "Thanks. These bags do me wrong at a bad moment. She laughed. It is possible that the universe is telling you, maybe, to buy a backpack. And it started like that, an awkward and humble sort of thing, which ended in coffee, then long walks and in the streetlamps of the city came heart-to-heart. Jeffery may not have been a rich man, but he was a kind-hearted man. He listened. He remembered things. He made Rose feel seen. They have been together for two years, struggling and sweet. By day Jeffery was a waiter, by night a warehouse loader; he was trying to survive on the meager earnings of these two jobs. Rose was just in her university days, where she was studying music and performing at open mics when she had the chance. Jeffery never missed a show. He would also take her hot tea later, which he had purchased occasionally with the last few glimpses in his wallet. You were wonderful tonight, he whispered as he threw his arms round her. One day, they will all know your name. She believed him. And, at the same time, they started to creep into fear. It is not due to something that Jeffery did but due to all the things that he could not do. Rose had been raised in poverty, she had watched her mother plead for food, she had watched her father work himself to death and get home at the end of a hard day battered and bruised. She recalled how her mother had cried her eyes to tears on the nights when she was starving, frightened, and locked up. And she thought she remembered vowing to herself that she would never live such a life again. Jeffery was not by heart like his father. But in these circumstances? Too close. Then, one rainy evening, she came to see Jeffery in his small apartment, and this was the last straw. The roof was already leaking once more. In the center of the floor was a bucket receiving drip. He was cooking noodles again. He smiled when he saw her. It is little, but I made you some of your favorites. She smiled at her, but her heart was broken. It was not that he was poor, but that she was sick and tired of being afraid of the future she could not control. A week later, she ended things. Jeffery didn’t fight. He held her hands and told her, When you change your mind one day, I will be there. Seduce me, Rose, I only want you to be happy. She shed more tears than she had anticipated. And when she went away she did not feel liberated. She was as though she betrayed the only man that had ever loved her unconditionally. But life does not hold back till hearts are healed. It moves on. So did she. Andrew was the opposite of Jeffery. Cool, swanky and steeped in this aura of affluence, he swam into the life of Rose with the storm of designer shoes. They met at one of the art galleries downtown where she had just played a few acoustic songs. After the show, he went up to her and, with a sharp charming smile, he held out the wine glass. You are singing like you were trying to heal the world, he said. She blushed. "Thanks. I’m just trying to survive it." He laughed. "I like that. I’m Andrew." His confidence was magnetic. The appearance of his hands, a most perfect jaw, the tan of honey, the eyes of a blend of danger and appeal, made her feel noticed in a manner which gave her most secret fears. She never felt like a beautiful girl. With Andrew, she felt chosen. The initial stages were intoxicating. Lavish dinners. Weekend trips. Photographs together on the yachts and rooftops. He said all the right things. "You're different." There was never a time I felt like this. I would like to have a future with you. But those were the only words he ever uttered. When she could not afford her rent for one month, he grinned and told her that he did not hand money out to women to whom he was not married. It’s bad business." Rose laughed at that, but in her heart she started a seed of doubt. He did not even appear in her performances. Then he would vanish days and days, and come back with pompous demonstrations. And when she would question him, he would get angry. One evening, he came across a message that she had been sent by her boss, Josh, a simple “Thank You” note after they had dinner together as a team, and got enraged. Who is this jerk of a man you are texting? Now you are sleeping with your boss? She attempted to reason out, and his anger clouded his sight. He struck her. Once. Then again. And yet, she stayed. Deep down she was always afraid she would never do better. Because he was handsome. Because he was rich. As he had made her feel, for momentary intervals, like a person deserving of envy. She recalled that he once told her, why should I invest in a woman that I am not married to? This line pursued her like a promise. Thus, when he asked her to marry, she agreed. She held onto the hope that he would change after getting married. That love was capable of mending what was broken. However, that wind did not end with the marriage. At night, he no longer came home. When he did, he smelled of perfume and liquor. When she faced him, he would hit her up and shut her in the room. "You're mine," he hissed once. "A wife is property. You are not entitled to ask me a question. She gave up her dreams. Sold her guitar. Stopped singing. She turned into a shadow of what she once was. And when she brought Anthony into the world, then it became worse. Andrew showed no joy. He didn’t change. He now became more inaccessible and more savage. She endured it all. For her son. For the illusion. For the fear of the unknown. However, one night, when Anthony was asleep, the mansion was dark and silent, she looked at herself in the mirror and did not recognize the woman who stared back. She picked up a suitcase. She whispered goodbye. And she left.