Chapter 1: The Weight of Judgment

I awaken abruptly as Margot's boisterous laughter cuts through the monotony of the neighbor's lawnmower. Her joy feels almost invasive, shattering the delicate calm I've managed to maintain. She glances back, playfully placing her finger to her lips in a secretive gesture, shushing the atmosphere around her.

“Come on, Margot,” Victoria interjects sharply. “She’s off in her own realm. Who can say how any of us would react if…”

As I grip the arms of my chair, my knuckles pale, she reaches for yet another bottle of champagne from the ice bucket—my bottle.

“… if one of our husbands simply vanished,” she muses, setting her glass down with a soft clink that startles Marmaduke from his slumber. He stretches and wanders off, seeking a new sunlit spot beneath the apple tree.

“And he didn’t even have the decency to say goodbye,” Jenny chimes in, her eyes wide and sparkling above her champagne flute. “He just left a note by the kettle.”

“Absolutely,” Margot concurs. “What a shock. No wonder she’s sitting there, lost in her thoughts. She must be in utter disbelief.”

My cheeks grow warm as I lower my gaze. I choose not to acknowledge that I’ve overheard every whisper and sly comment. It’s easier to feign absorption in the serene patio atmosphere, distancing myself from their scrutiny.

I stretch my legs, tracing my toes along the warm stone surface. Sunlight flickers through the trees, casting playful shadows on the patio. My eyes wander over the valley, where sailboats glide gracefully on the river, offering a momentary escape from my burdens.

For a fleeting second, I almost anticipate you walking through the door, keys jingling, jacket casually slung over your shoulder. You never seemed to notice me as you entered, always absorbed in your phone, your mind elsewhere.

“What on earth do you think he saw in her?” Victoria’s dismissive tone jolts me back to reality as she gestures toward me.

“Darling,” Margot scoffs. “You can’t say that…”

“… I can,” Victoria insists. “Lachlan was a real catch. Those piercing blue eyes, that charming smile. Iris, however, is utterly forgettable.”

A sharp pang strikes my chest. I don’t need a mirror to confirm their words—my eyes are plain brown, my hair a lackluster cascade. I become painfully aware of the stares and judgments, the insinuation that my appearance somehow contributed to this situation.

“She should have put in more effort,” Jenny smirks, eliciting a round of laughter from Margot.

“It’s no surprise he wandered off,” Victoria waves dismissively. “She’s only got herself to blame.”

I shut my eyes tightly, wishing for their departure, longing for them to stop pretending they’re here for me. They are here for you, basking in the limelight you once commanded, hanging onto your every word.

“She’ll be lost without him,” Margot says, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “Just look at her. She’s unraveling already.”

“She wasn’t much better before,” Victoria adds. “Remember the last dinner party? It was a mess until Lachlan stepped in.”

Jenny bursts into laughter, champagne spilling from her nose. “She really is quite useless.”

Useless.

Perhaps that’s how you viewed me as well. Over time, I became as ordinary and predictable as the cornflakes you had every morning. I recall the time I proposed building a patio, a simple space for us to enjoy evenings together. You dismissed the idea with a snort, telling me that if I wanted it, I’d have to construct it myself.

Yet, I dedicated myself to the project, learning every detail and working tirelessly to create something beautiful. The satisfaction of completing it was immense, even as you stomped across the lawn, jaw clenched in frustration.

“What’s this?” you snapped upon seeing the pit I had dug. I wish you could have seen the expression on your face when I spun around and playfully tapped you with the shovel. I waited until you paused, then returned to my work. The patio has become the perfect place to savor a glass of champagne and watch the sailboats. It’s a shame you won’t be here to enjoy it with me.

I’m pulled from my thoughts as Margot’s hand rests on my shoulder. Her loud voice breaks through my reverie. “Iris, are you alright? Would you like another cup of tea?”

“Actually, Margot,” I smile, “I’d love a glass of champagne.”

Chapter 2: Musical Reflections

The poignant melodies of the past resonate deeply, capturing the essence of longing and nostalgia.

George Harrison's "Between The Devil & The Deep Blue Sea" beautifully encapsulates themes of heartache and reflection, evoking emotions that linger long after the music fades.

Ella Fitzgerald's rendition of "Between The Devil & The Deep Blue Sea" from 1961 offers a timeless exploration of love's complexities, reminding us of the bittersweet nature of relationships.