Lies And Loyalty

Prologue

Alex's point of view

I remember it all so clearly. The first time we met. The transition from our small talks to our soulful conversations and then our lover's quarrels. She was all I could ever think of.

2015, San Francisco. A graduation after-party. That frenzied celebration with animated screams, wobbly alcoholics, exaggerated dancers.

And then there was Safiya.

Sitting in one of the extreme corners she gave in her best effort to look invisible and avoid all the savage partiers. The round silver spectacles frame fell just above her little blunt nose. I couldn't help but notice how those exotic hazel eyes oscillated from one end to the other, as she examined the room. I wondered if she felt as lost as I did.

It has been four years since that day. And two years since we got married. Life had been as smooth as a fresh cube of butter. Especially married life. We were one of those happily married couples whose life was all rosy.

"We were." A bunch of tears exit my eyes as I say this.

"It is all over now."

Safiya's point of view

He looked lost. That was the word I would use to describe Alex South. The first time I saw him, he looked so, completely lost. Albeit the place contained several humans, he was lonely.

I seemed to like that. I seemed to like him.

He was different and complicated. The first time we talked, I already knew that my life was going to turn into a whirl-pool. I knew, he was someone I needed to steer clear of. But my naïve heart couldn't help it. I willingly jumped into this whirl-pool.

And now, I am losing him…

CHAPTER ONE

3 Months Ago,

Alex's point of view 

Thursday evening. From one end I could hear the beat of the rain-drops falling against our roof, and from the other, the sound of the gushing shower from the bathroom. Safiya takes a whole millennium to take bath.

I grab my book from the wooden desk nearby. "The Diary of a Genius" by Salvador Dali. I continue flipping each page and eventually reaching a highly gripping part about this eccentric polymath's world travels and how he saw things so differently than any average human.

The phone buzzes. "Her phone buzzes". One text message followed by another. Then another. Then another.

I mutter a few curses and stretch my hand towards the phone to put it on silent.

But before I could mute the phone, the message notification written in big and bold stood there on the screen. It was from a "Jennifer."

"Hey Gurl." 

 Urghhh can u plz reply

Oh! u r stuck with that retard again…

What was his name? Alex? … "How many more years will you waste with him?"

I tossed the phone onto the other side of the bed. I didn't want to read any more of it.

My eyes were bleeding. It felt like a wasp had just stung my heart. Thoughts were swimming from one corner of my brain to the other.

Did her friends really think so low of me? Who is this Jennifer? Did Safiya really feel like she was wasting her life with me?

The bathroom door flaps open. I force stop the tears from flowing out of my eyes. 

"Alex, I will be gone for some time." I have a bit of work to do."

I nod.

I will be bringing Martin along in the evening. Alright?

I nod again.

"Take the umbrella," I say, handing her a magenta umbrella from the shelf.

She raises her eyebrows and looks outside the window.

Yeah, thanks, Alex.

Safiya's point of view:

I return home that evening at around seven p.m. Along with me comes, Martin Scullin. A good-looking Australian in his early forties with a golden tan and a pair of large brown eyes.

We work together. Actually, I work under him. However, we have known each other for some time now.

He visits quite often. Alex and Martin get along really well together.

I turn my eyes towards Alex. He lies on the sofa upside down, with his legs resting against the sofa's top and head hanging loose in the air. In one of his hands, he is holding up "The Diary of a Genius", a book he is currently obsessing over.

Hey mate, how is it going! Martin beamed.

Alex instantly turns and positions his body upright.

He lets go of the book.

I notice, his eyes are heavier and puffier than usual. Is something wrong with him? I wonder.

Alex's point of view.

I was trying hard not to think about what I read earlier. "Wasting your life with him."

"Everything okay buddy?" Martin inquired.

Huh? Yeah, I am good I reply.

Martin is a pretty peculiar guy. He often surprises me by asking the strangest questions, about my sleep patterns, memory, imagination, and dreams. Well, he is a psychologist. I guess those sorts of questions run in his blood. He also carries a note-book everywhere and seems to make notes about every little detail. I like him though. Funny little guy.

I don't know much about him except that he is an Australian Psychiatrist and my wife's senior (he heads the department; she is working for). They work at some mental health institute.

Martin is the only "human" who likes listening to my deep, philosophical theories and observations. To be honest, I don't know many humans. I am a recluse. I have chosen to cut my connection with the rest of the world. In fact I seldom leave my apartment. No one ever seems to understand me.

Martin is different. He likes knowing all about me, my thoughts, my day and my work-life. I work from home. I publish various e-books and articles about philosophy, art, and other topics. My income is questionable, but it is not rock-bottom. At least I enjoy doing my job.

Alex's point of view:

The paradigm of an ideal Sunday. Sprawling on the bed, with the T.V on and junk food fallen across every inch of the bed. By this time, I think I have almost forgotten about those messages form Jennifer.

 I was waiting for Safiya to arrive with our evening- original peppermint tea. We could never complete our day without sipping it.

I climbed out of the bed, deciding to give my lazy bones a shake and my dutiful wife a hand in the kitchen. Striding and humming along the hallway I reach near the kitchen door.

But my eyes catch notice of something that immediately puts a halt to my steps.

Inside the kitchen, stands Safiya with a packet of shady-looking orange pills. She clacks open the cover of the pills and drops them into one of the cups containing the tea.

"One of the cups." "One of the two cups."

"Hey" I voiced.

She flinched immediately with nervousness oozing out of her body. Her hands didn't take a second to hurriedly shove the pack of pills into a blue jar nearby.

"Oh" You scared me. I was just coming. She responded.

"Your tea" she added, handing me the cup in which she had just popped those pills.

I examine the tea using all five of my senses. "It smells different", "Did you add something extra into this today?" I ask her with suspicion in my eyes. There was no smell whatsoever. It smelled usual. But at that time my brain couldn't come up with a better way of asking her about the pills.

"Oh!" she exclaims. I thought of testing a new brand of sugar-free pills this time. They are indeed quite weird, she replies.

I smile, sip the tea and decide to let go of it. Of course, the "sugar-free" wasn't a satisfactory answer. I saw her drop it into "One of the two cups." And we both take sugar-free in our teas.

Safiya's point of view:

Rigour and cautiousness were required from my end.

He saw me putting the pills. I sigh.

The poor thing tried to make up some excuse of a weird smell. I have been adding these pills into his tea since forever. He has never been able to make out.

I came up with a random story of changing the sugar-free brand. He seems to believe me; I watch him taking slow sips of the tea without any hesitation.

 The tea is just an excuse for me to give him those pills…

CHAPTER TWO

Alex's point of view:

She is standing across the street talking to someone on the phone. I manage to catch a pretty clear view from our living room balcony.

Too many incidents have occurred and these can't be mere coincidences anymore. My mind was able to dismiss those hurtful texts but it just can't afford to ignore the fact that my wife wants to be the cause of my death.

My brain keeps replaying yesterday night's scene. She put the orange pills in one of the cups.

"One of the two cups."

All my thoughts suddenly switch to rest mode. I take a deep breath.

"I love Safiya." "I love that woman so much"

If she really wishes for my in-existence, then I shall give to her.

If It is going to give her that happiness, then it is worth it.

 "Just one thing left to do."

The next second, my body steps out of the door. I dash towards the street where Safiya stood with her phone.

Panting for breath, I reach near my apartment's gate. Only to see an empty street.

"She was gone."

I sway my head from one side to the other desperately, like a lost child looking for his mom.

And then I see her get into a taxi. She isn't too far; I can catch her.

I rush back towards my bicycle's parking spot. 

The red beauty with symmetrical black wheels lies there covered in a package of dust particles…

I have been following her for forty minutes now, and I have no idea about this place.

Asking me anything about roads or addresses is like asking Shakespeare to solve a math equation.

I don't come out very often. Not this far.

I finally see her stepping out of the taxi and entering some sort of a posh cafe.

Safiya's point of view.

This journey was unnecessarily long. I should have asked Martin to meet up in some place closer to my apartment.

The flavor of freshly brewed coffee hits my nostrils. The place looks superfluously expensive. Normally I take those pills from Martin in the office itself. But it skipped my mind today.

So here I am at this cafe, collecting Alex's pills.

"The weird orange pills."

CHAPTER THREE

Alex's point of view:

 "There was a couple sitting in the cafe when I walked in. As the light was low, I didn't know who they were until the woman turned around, and I saw it was my wife". 

My wife with Martin.

His hand on top of hers. 

My heart starts aching. I bite my lip attempting to stop those tears from falling down. 

"How long will you live like this?" Martin says. "You can't ruin your life because of Alex." He sighs and takes a long pause. "It is for the betterment of both of you." 

With tears spouting from my eyes I approach their table with aggressive yet unsteady steps. 

Safiya! I yell with a broken voice and a tone filled with rancour.

Martin moves his hand away from hers at once. Both of them glare at me with astonishment.

Anxiety drips down Safiya's face.

Alex? But how... I mean I ...I

Hush! There is nothing left for you to say. I am no fool Safiya.

"Those pills, those texts from Jennifer, and now this." I snort in frustration.

Safiya starts sobbing, Martin remains motionless, and I start chocking on my tears.

She opens her mouth to say something but I ignore her and continue.

"You could have just told me." I murmur.

"But it's ok". My heart decides to forgive you. I say with grief hugging my voice from everywhere.

 I clear my throat for one last time…

 "Just never show me your face again."

"And I promise you will never see even a hint of my shadow."

Safiya's point of view:

Within one blink of my eye, he disappears. The people present in the café stare at us with utter confusion.

I look up to see him sprint outside the café like a cheetah. I don't give it a second thought and run straight behind him.

"Wait up!" Martin calls out. But my ears fail to comprehend any sentence at that moment.

I exit the café and hopelessly look in every direction. No trace of him.

ALEX!! I scream falling down to my knees and attempting to put together the pieces of my smashed heart.

"Home." That is the only place Alex knows. He must be there! my heart says to me.

Thirty minutes later, I stand outside my house, struggling to open the locked door with my trembling hands and moist eyes.

And of course, …

He is not there. 

Alex! ALEX! I yell once again. But the only response I got was my voice, which reverberated across the house and came back to me like a boomerang, creating endless ripples of echo.

I hear a sound coming from my pocket as my phone vibrates.

"You have an email from "[e-mail]." The mail read:

"I remember it all so clearly. The first time we met. The transition from our small talks to our soulful conversations and then our lover's quarrels. You were all I could ever think of." 

"It has been four years from that day. And two years since we got married. Life had been as smooth as a fresh cube of butter. Especially married life. We were one of those happily married couples whose life was all rosy." 

And now…

"It is all over."

Well, Good for you. You don't have to be "wasting more years of your life." "Anyway. Please don't try looking for me, because you simply wouldn't be able to find me."

The phone slips out of my hand. My phone screen and my heart both, break into a thousand tiny particles.

CHAPTER FOUR

Safiya's point of view:

My name is Farah Abdul. Unmarried, a psychology student, currently working at EVN behavioural and mental health institute, Boston.

These are the facts.

Safiya was a myth. And now, I guess she is inexistent. 

"Alex South. I let out a sigh. 

Was diagnosed with 'Delusional disorder'."

The first time I saw Alex was in Saint Theresa's Home for Mentally ill orphans. Just finishing my two years post-graduation in "Cognitive development and disorders" I set out to look for such organizations for the scope of further research.

"Alex South", a pale, skinny chap in his twenties.

"He looked so, completely lost. Albeit the place contained several humans, he was lonely." 

For the first few seconds, his eyes kept following me, and then he blurted out.

"Safiya." Where were you? You took so long, I had to ask them to let me in! You can't keep your husband waiting for two hours.

Safiya? Husband? At first, I thought it was some kind of a joke.

Then my four years of experience immediately identified those traits. "Delusional disorder."

He possessed this rare disorder, where the victim considers his imagination to be the truth. In first- degree delusional disorder, one cannot differentiate between their delusions and reality. However, in Alex's case, his mind makes up a story and then accepts it as reality without any uncertainty on whether it is true or not.

I found out a little about him from the nurses there. He arrived a few days ago, narrating some story about a wife abandoning him.

If I were to analyse him, I would guess that somewhere in his past, a partner had deserted him, which led to "post-traumatic stress." This stress further grew and resulted in the rare occurrence of Delusional disorder.

 I don't know what struck me that day, but I decided to take him with me. I promised to nurses that he was my responsibility. My initial thoughts were to use him as an entity of research. Working with a victim suffering from a certain disorder can give you first-hand knowledge and experience.

But eventually, the main purpose of "research" changed.

I didn't just consider Alex a patient anymore. "I accepted him as my husband."

I was blinded by his love, but my dear ones like "Jennifer" and "Martin" were not. They were just looking out for me. They didn't think that it was the best for both Alex and me to live in this web of lies and pretences.

Those regular visits from Martin were therapy sessions and those orange-pills were of course…

Alex's medication.

"And the tea was just an excuse for me to give him those pills."

I asked him a little about how (according to him) we first met and got married.

His mind had a full-fledged story about some graduation party in San Francisco.

And… It shouldn't be surprising to hear. I have never been to San Francisco.

Of course, it is difficult to live with someone who treats their imagination as reality.

Like the other day, he handed me an umbrella stating that it was raining outside. With the hot sun rays entering from our window, it took me a whole two minutes to understand that the rain was one of his delusions. And so was his "work-life."

But these difficulties didn't seem so difficult. Perhaps it was love. Love makes everything easier. Alas. He could never see this love.

Honestly, the first time I met him "I already knew that my life was going to turn into a whirl-pool. I knew he was someone I absolutely needed to steer clear of. But my naïve heart couldn't help it. I willingly jumped into this whirl-pool".

"And now, I am losing him…"

 

THE END