Rebirth: Second Chance At Love, War

Chapter 2

THE BREAK UP

ZARA'S POV

I blinked against the harsh light, eyes adjusting slowly to a scene beyond comprehension. An open office where strangers bustled past, chattering. My hands flew to my head, probing for wounds both inner and out that should by all rights have long since claimed my mortal frame. But only warm, undamaged flesh met my searching fingertips, not a scar or bandage in sight.

Panic's icy grip squeezed tighter. The last I recalled, I was on the floor bleeding after a glass table broke my fall. Yet here I found myself amidst a bustling room, hale and hearty as if I've never been touched by any illness at all.

"How is this possible?” I muttered, gaining curious looks from crisp professionals in passing. "I was dying - how am I here?"

No answers came, only more questions swirling in a maelstrom within. Had my entire ordeal been a dream? Or was this new realm some afterlife? Was I now a ghost haunting halls not meant for my eyes? Unease settled heavy in my snathanach like lead. Only one thing I knew for certain - something was amiss.

All was confusion as I squinted at the familiar face emerging towards me, beaming wide and carefree.

“Put on your glasses, babe,” he said with a chuckle.

"Mark?" I gasped, certain that this bizarre realm had driven me mad at last.

He laughed, blithe as ever, offering a steaming coffee. "You look like you've seen a ghost, babe! C'mon, drink up - it'll wake you right up."

My thoughts raced faster than reason could chase. None of this could be real...and yet he seemed so solid, so achingly. Mark, before that final betrayal tore our world asunder. A dreadful suspicion took heed. I patted my desk blindly till finding familiar glasses, jamming them on with trembling hands.

At once the fog cleared and with it, the impossible truth: calendar on the wall read 2012. I flew to check again and again, each confirmation hitting harder than the last.

How could this be? I had lived through this life already, survived what should have ended it! Unless...

"Zara, what's wrong?" Mark's voice cut through my spiral, full of careless concern.

Before reason could intervene, memories overwhelmed - his cold departure from my hospital bed immediately he dropped me off for intensive care, cheating on me with my best friend, my blood on the floor of our bedroom.

"You jerk!” I screamed as I picked up some documents and began hitting him uncontrollably.

“Babe, hey stop it!” He demanded but I went on. He was about to get violent but before he could lay his hands on me, the manager, nathan, intervened.

“This is a workspace! This was why I never condoned dating your co-workers. Back to work everybody, we’ve got sales to make” he demanded sternly. But I wasn’t feeling it.

My legs felt like jelly as I wandered into the kitchen, hoping a hot drink would help calm my nerves a little. But holding the mug only got my mind more tangled up in memories that didn't make sense. Lost in my own head, I didn't hear the manager sneak up behind me. He gave a right good fright when he touched my shoulder which made me spill scalding liquid everywhere.

At the same moment, I mistakenly shoved a jug of boiling water which came landing down on him, however, he acted quickly, throwing his arms out to block the gushing waves before it could burn his face. He let out a grunt at the heat scalding his hands. With the kettle emptied out, a heavy silence fell as the steam rose off nathan's reddening skin. All my panic and confusion bubbled over in wrenching sobs at his feet, sputtering apologies through wet hiccups.

His eyes stayed gentle like always, even with his pain.

“What is going on, Zara?” He asked, ever so pragmatic.

“I don’t know honestly. I can’t even wrap my head around…” I explained as I got interjected by the unexpected tinkle of Elena's familiar voice. As she entered the office kitchen with her usual bright smile, merrily chatting with a mouth full of pastries, the memory of what she did to me gushed in.

How many mornings had started just like this, with her presence as the one constant rock amidst the chaos of my life? Yet as I caught sight of her concerned expression, my face fell in dismayed disgust.

Something within me snapped at the impossible sight. Without a thought, I bolted from the room, heedless of Elena's confused calls after me. Down the endless halls I pumped my legs, still fleeing.

Yet as I reached the front doors and the busy road beyond, only nathan's firm grip dragged me back from death's edge. His calming voice rose above the screeching traffic, pleading for me to breathe. "Whatever has you spooked, we'll face it together. But first, let's get you home."

Gentle insistence left no room for argument. Exhausted, I relaxed into his supportive grasp with a shuddering sigh, praying his steady hands could ground me once more.

“Take a day off or two. You’ll need it” he advised before waving me goodbye after dropping me off at mine.

By this time, I wasn’t living with Mark. I had my own place. I liked to consider myself an orphan seeing as my mother left my father when I was little because he was so poor. He eventually died of gastric cancer.

My thoughts swirled endlessly as I paced my empty flat, trying in vain to grasp how this impossible situation could be. I remembered with vivid clarity the betrayal and suffering - Mark leaving me to die alone, Elena standing by as life drained from my body.

Yet here I stood, whole and hale once more, granted a second chance before the wounds had even fully scarred. Anger and confusion warred within, demanding answers reality seemed loath to provide.

No more would I play the meek victim. No more would I let anyone trample on my feelings. No more Mr. Nice guy. Darkness fell but as I heard the knock, steel threaded through my veins. As I opened the door to face Mark, his easy smile did not soften my hardened gaze. I had endured his false charms before, and would not be made a fool twice.

He launched into his usual pleas for reconciliation, begging me to put aside our "silly fight". But I saw clearly now what his pretty words sought to obscure.

When flattery failed to sway my stony silence, Mark resorted to more honeyed tones. "Come on Zara, join me for dinner so we can talk properly. What do you say?"

“Fine”

Mark chattered blithely as we dined, careless of the maelstrom behind my smiling facade. But curiosity over answers soon got the better of him.

"Zara, why all this strange behavior lately? Is it because you're pregnant?” He chuckled, though unease flickered beneath his bravery.

My silence spoke volumes, and Mark paled further behind forced laughter. "Listen, we're not ready for a child just yet. Your career, our future is at stake… let's wait till marriage, yeah? Such a mistake now will ruin everything."

Such concern for a perfectly convenient timing ached my heart. Mark just didn’t want to have a child at all. He never did. So I smiled gently, laying a hand over his trembling one. "I’m not pregnant."

Confusion melted into relief as understanding dawned. "Thank God - had me worried for a minute! So then, what is it? A promotion coming through?"

Leaning close to his eager ear, soft as any lover's whisper I cooed, "Cancer, Mark. I was diagnosed with gastric cancer."

“Better than having an unplanned baby” he chuckled about to take a sip from his wine until slapped the cup away from his grip.

“Zara!” He yelled in anger and confusion.

“We’re f*****g done” I mentioned sternly as I picked my phone and left his sight.

“Zara! Zara, come back!” He yelled but I was already far gone. So he ran after me. Once he got a hold of me, he didn’t want to let me go. He held my hands violently about to hit me when peering eyes stopped him from beating a lady. In my mind, I knew if I didn’t say anything close to positive, nothing was going to stop him from hitting me despite the public eyes.

“Mark, I love you, but I think we should take a break. Please, just give me some space to think, I beg you” I pleaded. Then he let go of my hand and apologized.

“Bye, Mark” I wished almost in tears, not from the pain of parting ways but from the pain of perhaps being stuck in a relationship with a violent man. I hastily took to heels, hoping he doesn't follow me but I felt like I was being followed.