Her Death in the Tub, His Empty Words Outside Chapter 2

When I opened my eyes again, I was floating near the ceiling, my body weightless.

I looked down and saw myself in the bathtub. My face was waxy, my lips blue. The water was a dark, still red.

I was dead. It was a strange, detached feeling.

I heard a key in the lock. Click.

The door opened.

Noah was back.

He was soaked, his hair plastered to his scalp, water dripping down his face. In his hand was a plastic container from the little takeout place down the street, my favorite noodles.

He stood in the doorway, peering cautiously into the dark apartment. He slipped off his shoes quietly, afraid to wake me.

“Babe?” he called out, his voice soft.

No answer.

He seemed to relax, probably assuming I was asleep, or still sulking in the bedroom. He placed the noodles on the table and peeled off his wet jacket. His face was etched with exhaustion, his eyes a web of red veins.

He pushed the bedroom door open a crack. The bed was empty.

He froze, then his eyes darted to the bathroom. The door was closed. The light was off.

He walked over and tried the handle. Locked.

“Babe? Are you in there?” He leaned against the door, his voice hoarse, pleading. “Are you still mad at me?”

I floated in front of him, my heart aching at the sight of his hunched, weary form.

He waited, but there was no sound from within. He sighed, figuring I was ignoring him, and slid down the door to sit on the cold, hard floor. His pants were still damp.

There we were, separated by a thin sheet of wood. My body on one side, his tired back on the other. Life and death, so close.

“Babe, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, picking at the grout between the tiles. “I was just… so tired. I got a complaint today, they docked me fifty bucks. I was just so frustrated, and then I saw you crying, and I just… lost it. Please, don’t ignore me. Yell at me, hit me, anything.”

He pulled a small, crushed box from his pocket. Inside were a few strawberries, slightly bruised, but still a vibrant red.

“Look, I bought you strawberries. Not many, but they’re sweet. The guy said it was the last box. Please, just open the door. Come out and have one.”

The bathroom was silent, except for the occasional drip, drip, drip of the faucet.