At first he wonders out loud why she has to go. Then, perhaps still unsure about his stance in the matter, and her inclination toward him lately, he keeps his thoughts to himself. Yet, it shows on his face that he is in turmoil inside. Seated across the room, his hands folded on his laps, his eyes glued to the wall, or more likely to her picture framed in gold at its center, he is intermittently teary, at once mumbling to himself.
The continuous clinging and clanging, and shifting and shuffling in the room behind him must further hurt as must the chiming on the wall behind him. He must know he has to do something fast. However, he seems transfixed, a man in a trance of woes, his future unravelling before his very eyes, each tick of the clock that he inherited from his late grandfather, louder by the minute.
His past must be equally vivid, at least the immediate past that seemed the breaking point for Anna. Sam, their only son is safe at her mother’s home, a travesty he insists given the need for the little boy to experience a normal family life. Things though, are anything but normal. Yet, to an independent observer, theirs would likely be a pristine family, worthy of emulation.
In the five years that they have been married, until recently, it is unlikely to see either without the other in any social setting. In fact, they drive to and from work together despite each owning a car. Other than working in different places, they were literally inseparable.
Their friends openly covet the couple that seemed perfect in virtually all ways. Both admit that their relationship has fostered their social standing and their work somehow. Their almost meteoric rise at work attests to the latter, although it is uncertain that being openly envied by friends is desirable, Anna often says.
Nonetheless, they forged ahead. The arrival of Sam was an added boost to a thriving family, albeit as is turned out, up to a point. Bob loved his son, and he says he still does. He doted on him right from conception, even though neither he nor his wife knew or wanted to know the gender of their baby before birth.
Anna had a few problems prior to and early in the pregnancy, and Bob proved up to the task. He showered her with love and affection and made sure she had whatever she needed. Even her mother, who had openly complained about his philandering while dating Anna, praised him for being a good husband, and father-to-be. He was clearly delighted about the admiration of his wife and her family.
Bob continued to be good to his wife and their new son, Anna often telling his parents what a wonderful son they have, and he now has. She stayed home for almost a year nurturing Sam who, by the day, was turning out to be a replica of his father, something she says warms her heart, although she often says he also looks like his twin.
She changed her mind about Bob not long after she resumed work. Indeed, what happened within that week unquestionably turned her life upside down, and started her on an unexpected journey of self-examination and rediscovery. She even told her friends what to expect, a more cautious, perhaps even paranoid Anna, who would likely remain on her own for a very long time, if not always.
When they asked her what the matter was, she simply broke down. In fact, she would never tell anyone but her mother she once said, pressed further by her closest friend. All she told her was that she could no longer sleep on her own at night, and that she had become hooked on sleeping pills. On another occasion, she told her friend that she would rather not sleep at night even if she could.
Eventually, Bob goes into their bedroom. He is on his knees again, begging Anna to stay. However, he knows what to do to make her stay but would not do it. He tells Anna that she would leave anyway, even if he did, despite her reassurances. She says she just wants to hear it from him, that she knows it is the truth. He insists there is no truth in what she alleges, and that his medical is being redone.
Now it seems to be getting too late to change her mind, and that he is right she would leave even if he admitted to what she terms the truth about an event she insists she would never forget. He continues to plead, to no avail. She keeps packing her belongings, to leave, not even looking in his direction.
Unknown to him, Anna has the confession she really needs to make the next move, which is to file for divorce, if Bob remained adamant. She had told him that she was ready to forgive him, but that he had to confess. At last saying something, Anna tells Bob he has revealed his true self, the same problem her mother hinted her about him, some years ago.
“What problem?”
“Your conceit,” Anna retorted. “You are just too proud to confess, aren’t you?”
Bob insists he is not arrogant, and that he has nothing to confess.
Moments later, a car hoots outside. Anna leaves briefly. She returns with two men who help her with her luggage into a waiting van. Bob watches helplessly as his wife says goodbye. Then something suddenly snaps in him. “Wait, Anna. Wait,” he says, in a subdued tone, as she steps out the door, the race, almost over.
Anna must have sensed that he is ready at last to confess. She decides to give him one last chance, it seems. And he does. He does not go into the details of how he pulled it off; but says there was indeed a donor. This is enough for Anna. She breaks down, uncontrollably, and helped by the men from the transport company to the van, she leaves Bob without uttering another word, perhaps for good.
