51: Do you think I'm happy?

Every day, Richard brought something for Khana. Flowers in vibrant colors, luxurious perfume with a delicate scent, boxes of decadent chocolates, and elegant shoes filled their home, but none of these gifts could mend the growing distance between them. 

Khana’s heart was heavy, and the gestures that might have once filled her with warmth now only deepened her coldness. 

"What do you think you're doing?" Khana asked. She picked up the flower and placed it on the vase. Then, she added, “These won’t undo what you’ve done, Richard.” 

“I know, but—” Richard began, his voice filled with regret and desperation, but Khana didn’t let him finish. She turned on her heel and left the room without another word, her frustration tangible in the air. Khana walked out of the room and left Richard without letting him finish whatever he had to say.

She slept in Kharl’s room for the past three days. She was about to carry Kharl and walk around the room. She was tired of the arguments, the silences, and the feeling of betrayal that lingered in her chest. Richard had made decisions that had hurt her deeply, and although he was trying to make amends, Khana wasn’t ready to forgive him yet.

Khana intended to pick up the baby from his crib to pace around while humming a lullaby. However, the moment her palm touched Kharl's skin, it got burnt, something was wrong—Kharl was burning up with a high fever.

Her heart clenched in panic, and all thoughts of her anger toward Richard vanished. All that mattered now was their son.

"Richard!" Khana yelled in nervousness.

Richard was startled upon hearing it. He immediately stepped in and called the doctor to diagnose Kharl. The husband even stayed up all night tending to their baby.

Watching him in those moments, Khana felt a shift within her. Despite his flaws, Richard never failed as a father. His love and dedication to their child were undeniable, and in those moments, Khana couldn’t help but soften. Perhaps, for the sake of their child, she needed to learn how to forgive him.

As Kharl’s fever finally began to subside, Khana allowed herself to breathe a little easier. But just as things seemed to be returning to normal, it was Richard who fell ill next. His body succumbed to exhaustion and stress, and Khana found herself in the unfamiliar role of caregiver.

She couldn’t deny that he had been there for their son, and now it was her turn to be there for him. Despite her unresolved feelings, she diligently prepared his medicine, brought him food, and ensured he was comfortable.

She served him another meal, and Khana was about to leave the room to check on Kharl when Richard suddenly grabbed her wrist. His touch was gentle but insistent, preventing her from leaving.

“Do you need anything else?” Khana asked, her tone neutral, though she could feel the tension brewing.

Richard’s eyes were tired but intense as they bore into hers. “What did I do wrong, Khana? It wasn’t a grievous misdeed, was it? I didn’t kill a man," he asked.

Richard swallowed the lump in the throat and added, "If you’re still angry about me hiding that news from you, then I’m sorry. Do you… do you blame me for the death of your first love?” His voice cracked slightly, revealing the vulnerability he had been trying to hide.

Khana stiffened at his words. 

The mention of her first love, the man who had once promised to marry her, opened old wounds she had tried to bury. She pulled her wrist free from his grip and stared at him, her expression unreadable.

“Is there a reason for me to blame you?” she asked, her voice steady, but laced with underlying tension. “Unless… you’ve been lying to me. If you told me lies and excuses, then yes, maybe I do blame you.”

He couldn't hide how hurt he was. Still, he wanted to confirm it, so Richard asked, “Then… you don’t trust me anymore, do you?”

Khana’s gaze was piercing as she responded, “I used to have faith in your kindness, Richard."

"Convince me that you weren’t lying. Prove to me that you’re truly innocent," the wife added, wearing an expression he could not read.  

He could not tell if Khana was mad because she wore the face of a calm woman. Her calmness was unsettling, a dangerous calm that spoke of deep hurt. 

Richard swallowed hard, his mind racing as he tried to find the right words. “What do I need to do to gain your trust again?” he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation.

Khana sighed and shook her head, her expression filled with sadness. She said, “You can’t fix a broken mirror, Richard. No matter how you glue it back together, no matter how expensive the glue is, it won’t return to how it used to be.”

With that, she picked up the tray and left the master bedroom, leaving Richard to stew in his thoughts. As she descended the stairs, one of the maids intercepted her, offering to take the tray and urging her to rest. Khana simply nodded, too tired to argue, and made her way to the garden.

The garden had always been her sanctuary. A place where she could escape the chaos of her emotions. She found a seat on one of the foamed benches nestled next to a bed of gumamela flowers, their vibrant hues contrasting with her somber mood. As she sat there, staring up at the sky, she let out a bitter sigh.

“Are you happy now?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “This is what you wanted, right? You told me that if I married Richard, I’d be happy. That he could give me the life I always dreamed of. Well, look at me now. Do you think I’m happy?”

"Do you think your decision made me happy, Henry?"

The wind rustled through the trees as if in response, but Khana only closed her eyes, letting the exhaustion of the past few days wash over her. The weight of her emotions was too much to bear, and slowly, she drifted off to sleep.