Triangle of Broken Souls

Olivia stared at the clock hanging on the wall; each tick-tock seemingly slow, but steadily advancing, until its hands reached 8:30pm, reminding her that it had been a solid three and a half hours later than he usually arrived home. “Ding-ding,” the doorbell chimed. Its bright jarring sound startled her, breaking the eerie silence that enveloped the vast mansion. She hesitated for a moment, hoping to get clarity. “Honey, I'm bacckkk!” Arnold exclaimed, in that zesty baritone of his. Olivia's heart skipped a beat. There was something about his voice that made her head swoon and filled her stomach with fluttering butterflies. She could hear it over and over again, yet each time felt like the first time. Olivia ran from the kitchen, jumping and wrapping both arms and legs around him, as he grabbed her with one arm, briefcase in the other, unflinchingly. “Welcome, darling” she said with childlike excitement, playfully tugging at his tie. He smiled, a flash of perfectly white teeth complemented the sparkle in his dark blue eyes. He leaned in, planting a kiss on her lips, and gently let her down. Olivia felt a dizzying descent like she'd been dropped from a great height. “Now, go shower, and I've got dinner ready, your favorite” she said, looking up at him, with a teasing smile. “Red beans and rice?” “With shrimps”, she gleefully replied. “And grilled chicken.” “Oh damn!” He groaned. “You sure know how to make me salivate.” “And you know how to make me salivate, just differently.” Olivia said, biting the corner of her lip. Sometimes, the things he made her say and do surprised even herself. “You naughty girl! Well, we can have dinner after dinner.” He winked, and they both laughed. Suddenly, she had forgone asking why he returned home unusually late. Just a few minutes ago, she was fuming. As he strutted up the spiralling stairway, into the bedroom, Olivia stood for a minute, watching on in admiration like a lovestruck High School girl, until he was out of sight. His broad shoulders fitted in the tuxedo so well, and his sharp jawline and well trimmed sideburns gave the look of a Caucasian Supermodel. They've been married for two years, and each day felt like a honeymoon. This life, this joy with Arnold, was everything Olivia had ever dreamed of. It stood in stark contrast to the shadows of her own past. Like every normal little girl, she'd always yearned for a beautiful family, but her consanguineal family was anything but beautiful. “When he wasn't getting into fisticuffs on the streets, he was getting neck-deep in debt, and why wouldn't he? When the Casino was his favourite place in the world to visit. I literally could count without exhausting all fingers on one hand, how many times he was sober.” Olivia's Mom tearfully recounted one cloudy evening, telling Olivia about her Dad. Just then, the rains began to pour, as if the heavens commiserated with Momma Olivia. Olivia's memory of the man her Mom had described as her Father was as cloudy as the dark clouds that had now formed in patches and slowly drifted across the Californian skies. “Soon after you were born”, her Mom continued, sobbing, “he packed a few things, left home and never returned.” As her Mom narrated these experiences that day, Olivia remembered how her heart suddenly began to palpitate. She noticed she had unconsciously clenched her fist and had to unclasp her hand and take several deep breaths to calm the raging nerves she felt inside. Other times when it crossed her mind, she just felt numb, a deep-seated hollow of emptiness; then hurriedly dismissed the thought, as cursorily as it had come. And sometimes, she really would break down and cry, weep until her eyes were puffy and swollen and pillow sodden with tears. It was difficult to pinpoint an emotion on a figure that was rarely ever present. Yet, somehow, there was this girl in the woman she was becoming that silently craved a manly presence in her life, and she sure knew what it felt like. When she met Arnold Wright, Olivia knew, she just knew. “Ain't it strange how a feeling you've rarely experienced turns out to be your strongest conviction?” Katarina, her best friend had once said. “I could still recollect the events as if they happened yesterday, down to details like what colour of underwear I had on”, Olivia replied with a chuckle, talking about the day she met Arnold. “But that's a story for another day”, she added. As for Olivia's half-sister, she seemed to have learnt the disappearing act from their Dad, the deadbeat. Olivia hadn't seen or heard from her in nine years. Not sure she even knew what she looked like anymore. Or whether she was even alive. There were reports that she had left Los Angeles to become a call girl in Vegas. Olivia was barely 18 at the time and she had just turned 21. They never saw eye-to-eye. Mom, once trying to separate a fight between the both of them, complained “If I leave you two in the same room, I'd be sure to meet one of you dead.” "Well, the dead one will definitely not be me", Olivia retorted. "I'd make sure I send that b***h to hell where she belongs." She never hid her displeasure for Olivia, and Olivia in turn was never hesitant to return the favour. But that was all in the old old toxic past. Now, she could rewrite the script and create a beautiful home with her darling Arnold. "I couldn't wait for us to have kids running around this palatial mansion." She thought out loud. "Those cute little devils with their numerous problems." Arnold had asked that she be on birth control for the first three years of their union. “After that, we'd see about kids”, he said. Life had served her lemons, but she was determined to make lemonades out of it. “Yummy, this is really nice.” Arnold said, munching, as he took one last gulp of the cranberry juice, placing the tumbler with a thud. “You're the best cook in the world!” It was the millionth and one occasion Arnold had said that to her. Olivia let out a cheeky smile, very pleased, whether more at the compliment or at the fact that he had cleaned his plate, leaving not even a crumb. Arnold never passed up on an opportunity to compliment her. And that was one of the many many things she loved about her man. Her mind wandered to the last time he was out of the country on a business trip. "We would talk on the phone all the time and he always said how much he looked forward to getting back home and having a taste of my culinary skills, and of course, a taste of me!" “Ring-ring” “Ring-ring”, Arnold's phone buzzed. His eyes narrowed as he saw the caller's ID, then he let out a slight sigh. He pulled his chair backwards, stood up from the dining table and walked out, leaving Olivia’s confused gaze trailing his movement until he was out onto the balcony, shutting the door behind him. "It was so uncharacteristic of Arnold to walk away from me before taking a phone call.” "We could talk about anything and everything. Is that not what a marital union is supposed to be about?" She wondered. "No secrets," Olivia had always prided in the transparency and honesty in their relationship. Values upon which the foundation of their love was built, or so she believed, not until now. “Who was on the other end of that call? And what could be so important it demanded to be said behind a closed door?”