It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing – Macbeth

Damien burst into laughter after reading the quote, startling Olivia out of her reverie.

Great! another one of his idiosyncrasies, she should stop these weekly reading rituals. She pursed her lips and glared at him.

‘What? It is funnily ironical!’ Damien stared back wiping tears from his eyes, trying to control the occasional ripples of laughter. 

Pray what is so "funnily ironical", that is if there is a word like that?’ Olivia shifted on the bean bag regally and shaded her face from the streaming sun while she waited for Damien to quieten down. ‘Show some respect, his wife just died!’ She insisted, getting annoyed.  

She was listless, her mind was elsewhere. She restlessly got up from the bean bag and walked to the window, pulling the shades down. She was beginning to lose her temper and the heat was not helping. Though she was not sure what caused her more heartburn, the fact that Damien was butchering her favourite author or that he could find joy in small things. Damien had always been simple minded, too unambitious for her liking.

‘Damien, please! Enough with this now!.’  

‘Oh Liv is livid now,’ Damien said and a ducked a fraction of second later as the flower vase she threw his way smashed on the wall and lay shattered on the floor.

She stunned herself, what the hell was wrong with me!

‘This mounts to domestic violence, Liv!’ Damien’s shock matched her’s.

‘I want a divorce.’

There she said it, it felt good to finally have it out in open.

Damien instantly sobered up, his laughter froze on his face and his eyes dried up. As if someone had taxidermied him.

‘Divorce? Because I laughed at a silly little book?’

His voice was unexpectedly calm, which surprised her given his history of emotions and drama.

Holding her gaze Damien stood up and walked across the expanse of the room towards Olivia, his Oxford shirt tight on his broad shoulders, muscles popping from his rolled up sleeves. He was handsome, there was no denying that. A long while ago this was a big turn on for her but now she craved change, in fact she had already found change but Damien didn’t need to know that.

She jerked her eyes away and went back to sit down on the bean bag, ‘I have just been unhappy with you. But yes, had that not been the reason, murdering Shakespeare would surely be enough to charge you with grievous cruelty.’ Olivia tried to lighten the mood, but the joke fell as flat as an out of tune piano. 

Damien sat down at her feet and stared at her deep in thought. A minute passed, then two, Damien’s gaze grew intense. She fidgeted under his stare, tried to push him away but her petite frame couldn’t budge him.

‘You are having an affair.’ Damien said placidly as if he just announced that lunch is ready.

Blood rushed to her face and bile rose in her throat. Did he know about Michael? How could he? No, she was careful.

She schooled her features to disdain and ploughed through. ‘What are you talking Damien? Don’t look for any other reason and shirk responsibility. I am unhappy with you.’

‘I am taking responsibility, Liv, in fact, I will remedy this right away.’ And without giving her a chance to respond, Damien grabbed her and pressed a kiss on her lips with brute force, almost savage, his lips plundered and took without giving anything in return and then just as suddenly it began, it ended. Damien walked back to his desk, while she stayed put dazed, trying to make sense of the kiss, waiting for him to explain. But he didn’t talk, just continued to stare at the picture on top of the desk.

‘Damien, I know… you must be hurting, believe me, I tried…’ She began tentatively but couldn’t finish as two shots rang in the air. One went through her heart and another through her forehead.

‘Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.’

Damien quoted again taking out the photographs of her and Michael from the book.

‘Shhh…, my wife just died, show some respect.’


About Author

Rituparna Ghosh

Member Since: 03 Feb, 2014

Dreamer, Tale Spinner, Adventurer, Wanderer  ...

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