A Mourning to Remember

by Danielle Adagbedu

The amber sun shines through the small split in the embroidered cream curtains that hang in their modest bohemian-styled apartment. The smallest bit of sunlight peeks through, lighting up a sliver of the young woman's face, the gentle heat stirring her awake. She opens her eyes ever so slightly, rubbing them as her pupils gradually adapt to the bright light. She looks over to the still glass of water that inhabits their mahogany nightstand. It almost feels as if it is staring back at her, taunting her, mocking her. A putrid smell begins to overwhelm her nostrils, shaking her out of her trance. She sits up, leaving the embrace of her lover's arms. Today was the day she had to do something about Malik.

A few days ago, they had woken up just this way…

“Hey, why you up so early?” Malik said softly as he grabbed her arm gently. Her body neglected his gentleness as she flinched slightly. He pretended not to notice. “Not sure,” Devorè shrugged. “I'm gonna start tidying up a bit while I have time; it smells putrid in here.” A wrinkled expression plastered her face as she scanned the room slowly.

“What are you talking about? I don't smell anything,” Malik responded with a confused expression. “Of course you don't.” Devorè gave a sly eye roll. “Why don't you stay, enjoy the moment for a little while,” Malik pleaded, his eyes shining with adoration. “The day’s not getting any younger, and I have to work later. I can't waste the only time I have in bed doing nothing,” Devorè explained as she arose from the bed. Malik followed her movement as he slid off the bed slowly, using their mahogany nightstand for support in his ascend. Devorè eyed him carefully as he stretched, eyes swiftly darting to their nightstand, then back to his slender frame. “This is the only day I've had off in weeks and you can’t even spend a single moment with me,” Malik half-joked. He grabbed a cream-colored t-shirt from the chair of their umber vanity and pulled it on with one swift motion. He then grabbed the clear glass from their nightstand and took a quick sip, placing it back down gently. “Well if you would've told me in advance, I could have taken off too, but that's the thing. You don't tell me anything anymore,” Devorè spoke with a sullen look. “You just make decisions without considering me whatsoever!” “Hey, hey, hey, what’s this all about?” Malik questioned. A perplexed expression overtook his face. He stumbled off the bed as he inched towards her. She turned the other direction walking towards the closet door, grabbing a metal hairbrush off their vanity. She looked past Malik’s eyes, hollow and empty. She looked again towards the clear glass on their mahogany nightstand.

“You know what, nothing, I gotta start getting ready for work,” Devorè muttered, brushing her raven curls with honey-blonde tips into a sleek high puff. He followed her towards the closet door blocking her from opening it. “You don't have to work till 12, but now all of a sudden you're in a rush. Why are you avoiding me? Whatever you have to say, just say it,” Malik responded swiftly, grabbing her hand gently, being careful not to hurt her. “Say it– Tell me– Just talk to–” “I can't do this anymore,” Devorè snapped, amplifying her voice. Malik’s face dropped as he let go of her hands slowly with a pained look. “The lies, the empty promises, the disingenuous affection. I'm not an idiot, Malik. You're always working, being secretive, you're barely even home!” Devorè cried out, hands trembling as she balled them at her sides to conceal it. It's like we're not even together anymore, just co- existing in the same apartment,” Devorè added as she looked away, being careful not to meet his vacant eyes. “What-, you’re being delusional right now, what are you even talking about?” Malik questioned, his voice raising slightly. “You think I don't know? Your Aunt Mae told me everything,” Devorè hissed. She paced back and forth in the spot she stood with hands enveloping her temporals. “What! Why were you talking to my aunt, are you being serious right now?” He ran a hand through his sun-bleached curls, then placed both hands on the top rear of his head. “She told me all about your little coworker, the one you've been getting coffee with every day after your shift,” She accused, reaching for the metal hairbrush she had set back down on the vanity. She proceeded to point it at him in a shaking motion.“It's like I'm trying to process this, but I can't. But you know what? What's the point of mourning a relationship that was already dead long ago,” Devorè confessed. An intense pause followed as Malik was frozen where he stood, unable to form a singular remark. “It doesn't matter anyway. I've already made arrangements. I've had one foot out of the door the entire time. You think you can hurt me but the worst part is, when I finally saw you with her I was relieved. Relieved that I finally had a reason to leave.” She said, her words unrepentant, heavy with belligerent stings of half-truths. “Are you finished, Dev?” Malik said plainly. Devorè stood there dumbfounded at the calmness of his question. She continued to glare at him with dark foreboding eyes. He walked over to their shared closet and moved the stack of folded clothes on the topmost shelf, revealing a small glossy black shopping bag. He then reached his hand into the bag, pulling out a black velvet box small in size. He stared at her dead in her eyes looking for the slightest sign of regret in her composure as he tossed the box onto their disheveled bed. It bounced twice before finally landing on her side of the bed. “Malik—-” Devorè began, her face crumpling up painfully. With widened, bloodshot eyes she glanced apprehensively towards their desolate nightstand. “The girl you ‘think’ you saw me with, yes she is my coworker, but she’s also a jewelry maker, who was ‘trying’ to help me make the perfect ring… for you,” he finished as his voice got softer. “But it's okay, you've already told me all I need to hear, and I now know where I stand,” Malik said heading towards the exit of their room.

“Malik,” Devorè repeated softly, voice cracking as she felt her throat closing up. “So I'll let you get back to tidying up, and I'll be back for my things tomorrow,” Malik added as he reached for the doorknob. “Wait!” Devorè cried out rushing towards him. “No it's fine, you won't even notice I'm gone, just like you said.” He took a brief pause and sighed sorrowfully. A singular tear rolled down her face. “I was barely home anyways,” he finished woefully as he shut the door behind him, leaving not only his past and present, but additionally his future, behind. She could no longer hold her own weight, knees buckling as she dropped to the ground below her. Her trembling hand flew to her mouth slightly, muffling her pained wails. She gripped the metal hairbrush in her opposing hand so tightly she thought she might break it. The palm of her hand became discolored with a fierce throbbing. As she watched him depart, her eyes darkened. Her grip released, dropping the brush on the stained carpets, sighing deeply. She slowly arose as she then returned back to her disheveled side of the bed.

Her expression goes blank as she grabs the laundry basket to continue her tidying from before. She picks up the dirtied glass on their nightstand, a water ring apparent below the place it once stood. She thinks back upon how Malik had always left this glass on the nightstand, refilling the same dirty glass again and again. It had always driven her insane. She places the glass back down gently. She removes the silk pillowcases and puts them into the laundry basket and throws the pillows to the side. As she goes to remove the satin sheets from her bed, she is met with a form of resistance. A resistance coming from the opposite side of the bed, preventing her from removing the sheets. “Gotta move you my love, how else am I gonna do the laundry?” Devorè says with a smile that fails to reach the voids of her eyes. She looks towards his lifeless body occupying the left side of the bed, devoid of all color and vibrance. The putrid smell of necrotizing flesh from earlier returns suddenly. Maybe today is not the day. “I want to let you rest, but I can’t depart from you, not yet.” Devorè whispers into his ear, cold to the touch. She looks towards her past lover with mixed emotions, stuck in this cycle of memories that’d torment her forever, only to be cursed to relive these same events, the next amber sunrise.