The sun streamed through the windows. The scent of oranges and cinnamon filled the air.The family room looked completely different. The furniture stood upright again. The piles of clothes that had been scattered across the floor had disappeared. The broken pieces had been cleared away. The place no longer looked like the inside of my mind.
Confused, I walked into the kitchen.
Jiya stood there stocking the refrigerator.
Every bottle of alcohol I owned had been emptied and neatly arranged on the dining table.
“What the hell did you do?” I shouted, startling her. “What have you done?”
Anger surged through my veins.
“You emptied all my alcohol? What the shit? Look at this place!”
I moved frantically from one room to another.
“Did you go upstairs? Did you touch the rooms upstairs?” I demanded as I clenched my fists and walked toward her.
“We did not touch anything. We just cleaned up.”
“We?” I narrowed my eyes.
“Yes, the cleaning helpers and myself,” she said calmly.
I stepped closer to her, my chest heaving. “Why did you do this?”
She picked up the picture of my wife and daughter, pointed to it, and said quietly, “I did it for them.”
I snatched the picture from her hands.
“How dare you? HOW DARE YOU?” I shouted. My muscles strained as anger surged through me. “You broke into my house and turned everything upside down?”
Someone touching my wife’s and daughter’s belongings was unacceptable. I was furious. Those were not just objects. They were all I had left. The thought of someone else’s hands on them made something savage rise in me.
“It is not breaking into your house if your door was unlocked,” she replied calmly.
“I did not permit you to enter, and I certainly did not ask you to clean this place. You touched things you were not supposed to touch. How am I supposed to find anything now? You do not know anything,” I bellowed.
“I might not know everything,” she said, stepping closer, “but I do recognize pain, and you are hurting. If you plan to drink yourself to death, let me know. There are children in this neighbourhood, and they do not need to see you doing this to yourself.”
“No one asked for your help!” I shouted. “You walked in here yourself. Do you think anyone in this neighbourhood cares what happens to me?” I scoffed bitterly. “No one does, and no one will.”
“Well, I do,” Jiya said firmly. “I came here with my son because we were worried about you. Does that count?”
Her words struck a nerve inside me.
“Get out of my house!” I shouted as I pointed to the door. “Leave me the hell alone.”
“No,” she said steadily. “I will not leave until I know you are fine and that you will not drink like a fish the moment I leave.”
“It is best if you leave now before you face my wrath,” I hissed.
Adrenaline flowed through my body. I wanted to hurt something. I wanted to hurt someone. I wanted to see blood. I wanted the chaos inside me to match the chaos outside me.
Still, she held my gaze.
“No, your wife and daughter?—”
“They are dead!” I shouted. “My wife and daughter are dead. Are you happy now?” My voice broke. “I should have been on that plane with them,” I whispered. “I wish I had died with them.”
