Semicolon
They both stepped out of the office, a world of awkwardness settling between them.
He saw a café just opposite to the office. It seemed wrong that something as casual as a café could exist there as a stark contrast to everything that happened in the dreary office.
“Coffee?” He asked her. She hesitated.
“Come on, for old times’ sake.” He pleaded. She took a deep breath and nodded.
***
She saw him check his reflection on the glass door for the umpteenth time. It was both familiar and endearing. She wondered why this habit of his had bothered her at one point of time. Why did everything feel silly and ridiculous now that they had just signed their divorce papers? She gazed out on the road, feeling lost.
He saw her looking outside – cool, aloof and withdrawn as she always had been. He had tried to break through her walls and had almost succeeded. She had tried to rein in his wild and hyper side and had almost succeeded too. But in the process of changing each other, their relationship had failed.
He saw her eyes well up and looked around, trying to rein in his emotions.
“I never imagined it would come to this.” He said gently.
She looked at him. “Did we just make the biggest mistake of our lives?”
He gulped. She was voicing his own concerns. “Why the second thoughts now? We mutually agreed, didn’t we?”
She fidgeted in her seat. “When we separated and you moved out, it felt like a comma in our relationship.”
The reference to their mutual love for the English language made him smile wistfully. It was one of the factors that had bonded them initially.
“Now it feels like our relationship has encountered a full-stop. There is nothing ahead!” She said, choking on a sob. “I never thought it would be so hard.”
“Neither did I.” His emotions threatened to overwhelm him. He wanted to hold her hand. But there was nothing to hold on to now.
The server came with their coffees. His appearance provided a welcome distraction for them, giving them time to compose themselves.
“Probably this is a semi-colon, not a full-stop.” He said, sipping on the coffee.
“What do you mean?”
“A semi-colon separates two sentences but they are still connected. We both will be connected to each other always, thanks to our son.” Just thinking about the boy made him emotional.
“Yeah. We will always be connected.” Her eyes welled up again. “I wish our story had a different ending.”
“It didn’t end. It just took a strange turn and placed us both on different paths.” His voice broke. “Make a good life for yourself. You deserve it.”
She reached out and held his hand, letting her tears free and projecting all her emotions in that simple touch.
They sat like that for a long time, their coffees cold, their table silent but the prospect of a semi-colon slightly numbing the pain of separation.
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