ELIZABETH

He sat, watching the storm roll in as the rusty barge boats went down the Arkansas river, steam billowing out of engines. The breeze was picking up, and he sat, admiring the forming of the dark clouds. He had never been one for storms, preferring to be basking in the sunlight. But she liked the broody sky, the thunder, the lighting, and sitting underneath the formation of the storm made her feel near.

He should have been in the office, he thought to himself. It was 2 p.m. on a Thursday, and on any other given day, he would be in his office working until the wee moments of the morning, billing as many hours as he could. Afterall, he didn’t become the top of his law firm by slacking. It was only two blocks away, but as he lifted his flask to his mouth, he knew he couldn’t be seen like this. He couldn’t bring himself to put on his normal suit or even a casual pair of khakis today. Even if he wasn’t in the office, he prized himself on always looking professional. You never knew when you would ruin into a client. But not today.

Today, he walked down to the river in wrinkled Gucci sweatpants. They had been a gift to her. An apology for working all week, not giving her the attention, she needed. He had idiotically thought it would fix everything that she thought was broken. However, at this point, no present could not put their relationship back together. Ironic that he spent all of his time working to provide and to be able to afford gifts like Gucci sweatpants. But in the end that is what drove her away.

He scoffed as this thought passed through his mind. He knew deep down that it was never about the money. It was never about providing or buying her presents. It was about winning, and it was about being the best. He was so driven by success, and the opinion of others that he could barely think about anything else. The thought was all consuming. However, he tried to hide his dark desire for success under the positive idea that he was hard working so that she would want him. So that she would be proud of him. But again, it was what drove her away.

The storm was really starting to creep in. He knew he needed to find shelter soon. He didn’t live far. He was staying at his apartment across the river downtown. He originally purchased the apartment for her of course. He thought it would be a fun little get away. For when they wanted a break from their home in the Heights. It never became that grand vision though. Instead it became the apartment a block from his office where he would stay and finish up work. She never even spent the night there. He, on the other hand, spent several lonely nights there.

He continued to look around, and he noticed all of the homeless people scurrying, trying to find cover. The river was always crawling with poverty, and he hated it. But she didn’t. She felt sadness, and empathy for those that had little. He felt disgust. He cringed as the brutally unsympathetic thoughts ran through his mind. He knew his inability to feel for those without was another thing that drove her away.

He watched as a man huddled under a gazebo in the park. Honestly, they weren’t much different. The man was slightly dirtier, but he hadn’t showered in days. They both held flasks in their hands, and he knew they both had the same smell of alcohol wafting off their breaths and their bodies. They were both wearing sweats. And, although his were significantly more expensive, they looked almost identical. Probably because he had not taken them off in weeks. His skin was even as dried out and wrinkled as the man under the gazebo. A full twenty hours of work washed down with several glasses of vodka did not do much for one’s health.

His eyes continued to scan the riverbank, when he caught sight of blonde hair. He instantly flashed back to when he first met her. She was wearing jean shorts, her legs tan and long, made even more so by the four-inch wedges she chose to wear. She knew exactly what she was doing when she chose her outfit that night. He had been immediately taken by the white blond hair, that was perfectly styled. He stared at her all night before he got the courage for an introduction. When he finally approached her as she was refilling her champagne, she smiled, and told him her name was Elizabeth.

He pulled himself back and took a drink from his flask. He could not afford to go there. He was not ready for the memories to flood back. Instead he returned his gaze back to the beautiful blond hair that caught his gaze. It was not perfect. Not smooth like Elizabeth’s and perfect placed. It was frizzy and frayed. And it had not been washed anytime recent. But there was still this beauty to it. The color was breathtaking and natural. As she searched for a place to take cover, she turned towards him. He noted the striking blue eyes, and of course the overhanging eyelids. That is what initially attracted him to Elizabeth the night they met. After the long, tan legs. She always hated that about herself though, and insisted she get surgery. He would never let her. He found them to be unbelievably sexy.

Although their eyes shared similar in shape, this woman’s eyes carried more sadness, and they had experienced more pain. She hadn’t had the easy life that Elizabeth had. Few people did. Her skin was more cracked as well, dirtier. But there was something beautiful in her pain. In the way she tried to find cover. The way she was trying to survive the storm that was coming. A sense of perseverance about her.

When he felt the first few droplets, he knew it was time to go. He reached over and grabbed the black book that was sitting next to him. He had brought it out there for a ritual. A way to get rid of Elizabeth’s memory. He opened the book one last time. It was filled with love letters he had written, and photos of them together. It also contained notes that he had scribbled when he came up with gift ideas for her. He had put notes of all of her favorite things. It contained apologies, which, as he worked his way to the back, became more and more frequent. Until finally he came to the very back where twenty thousand dollars was taped to the back. He had pulled the money out of the bank just before she left. It was just the right amount for the engagement ring she had been coveting for months.

He knew he probably should redeposit the money, but it felt tainted now. He didn’t want it to contaminate the rest of the money. Plus, he had plenty of money and the person he wanted to spend it on was gone. And with her gone, he had nothing better than to work himself to death, making more and more money that would continue to sit in his account, untouched. He got up and starting trudging to the river. He wanted the memories to drown. But as he was walking down to the path to the bank, his body made a sharp turn. It was almost unexpected the way his body just naturally moved him.

It led him to the beautiful frayed blonde girl with the sad eyes. She looked at him, alarmed as he approached. It was clear she did not know whether to hold her ground or to flee the scene. He handed the notebook to her, and she looked at it. He told her to take it, and she hesitantly did so. It was clear she was not used to being given much. Especially strange notebooks from drunk men. But she still took it. He turned to walk away, but before he did, he said, I hope this will wash away the sadness you carry in your eyes, as you are truly beautiful. Unfortunately, it has had the opposite effect on me.