By Pat Garcia
Glass flew across the room, hit the door, and splattered. Tiny chips rained on the floor. Her anger boiling, her hands shaking, Bob-Ann picked up the second crystal glass and hurled it against the door. Her eyes glared at the explosive breakdown of the crystal glass that crumbled.
"One, two, three," she shouted as she raised her arm and pitched the third glass directly at the doorknob. Ping, ping, ping! She wouldn't need them anymore.
Her energy depleted, her tears came. The anger dissipated.
She left the glass sea behind her and walked down the hallway to what used to be their bedroom.
No used cleaning up the mess now. I got plenty of time to do that.
Her last chance not to act like a speechless, bashful mouse had passed her by. Amato always told her; she was loved. But she hadn't accepted that. Their age difference had made her leery, mistrustful, and just plain stupid. She'd never believed within herself the life that he'd offered to her––a future with him.
Well, no need now. Amato's longtime friend and schoolmate, Lila, finally got her wish. At the party, she'd told Bob-Ann that she might as well get lost because Amato had said he was coming back to her. She'd even insinuated that Bob-Ann couldn't handle a man like Amato. For the seventh time, Bob-Ann believed her. Lila sounded so convincingly this time. Bob-Ann tears flowed. I can't go back and explain my behavior to Amato. Would he believe me? There's no such thing as a seventh chance.
She shouldn't have left the party without telling Amato what had happened or that she was going. Deep within herself, she knew she'd done it again, and feeling her pain had made her run, committing the gravest mistake she'd ever made.
She crawled up on her bed. Curling herself up against her pillow, she covered herself and fell asleep, crying over the cruelty of others and her inability to fight back.
Amato entered the quiet house. The crystal glass crunched under his shoes. His body tensed, and he stood still. Scared, he wondered where Bob-Ann was. Had someone broken into their home? Was she hurt? Flipping on the lights, the room was in order: no thief and no Bob-Ann.
Where is she?
He went down the hallway. At the bedroom door, he stopped. The chubby brown bundle lay partially covered with the downy feather comforter and one of her thick thighs hanging out.
When would she learn to accept her future without steadily questioning his love, not trusting, but seeking ways to end the relationship because of her own fears?
Amato had seen Lila talking to Bob-Ann. The next time he glanced in Bob-Ann's direction, she wasn't there. Amato assumed she was talking to someone else. He went to find her an hour later, and that's when Lila told him she'd asked Bob-Ann to leave because he didn't want her. Amato thought the red-headed woman who had been his friend since they were kids had lost her mind. He wanted to throttle her. She'd always wanted him to marry her, but Bob-Ann owned his heart.
As Amato observed Bob-Ann lying on the bed, he could imagine her conversation with Lila. Bob-Ann was insecure when it came to someone loving her for who she was. Taking off his shoes, he walked to the side of the bed and sat down.
Bob-Ann awoke at once.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.
"Why are you here?" Bob-Ann asked, surprised.
"Because this is where you are. Besides, we live here."
"Ugh…I messed up again," Bob-Ann said. "I left when I should have stayed and gone to you. I didn't get it right."
"Yep," Amato said. "Most important, you took something with you that belongs to me."
"What?" Bob-Ann asked, frowning.
"My heart, Tresore."
"Oh…." Bob-Ann whispered. "Amato?"
"Is there such a thing as a seventh chance?"
"There're many more chances than that, Tresore mio. Between us, there are four hundred and seventy times seven chances, and I believe those are more than enough chances to last us a lifetime."
"Does that mean we're still a married couple?" Bob-Ann asked, her voice filled with yearning.
I've never left the marriage, Bob-Ann. And you? Do you want to remain married to me?"
"Yes," Bob-Ann said. "You're my heart."
"Then, stop running."