The Pub

He thought as he walked. He would change. He had made up his mind. He would go back to what he had once been. He had never had any real complaints in his life. He was a cop. He was good at his job. He would go back to being just that. He would let time heal his present wounds.

He reached the entrance of the pub. The sign on the door said ‘Push’. And so he did.

He stepped inside. He breathed deeply. He loved this place. This would be the last visit here. He would give up drinking. He wanted to celebrate that with this one last night at the pub.

He sat at his usual place. The waitress served him his usual drink. He started to drink. He was still far away, though. Lost in all the memories.

He always thought that he had lived a blessed life. That was until he saw her. Then his world had got even better.

Nothing else in his life till then had such an effect on him. It had been beautiful. He had never believed in fairy tales or love or a soul-mate till that point. It was right here, in this pub, that he had seen her the first time. He could replay every second of that night in his mind. He had taken one look at her in the doorway, the wind managing to blow her hair into a heart-melting disarray; before, behind her, the door slowly closed with a small thump. She had looked at him. He had looked back. They had married within the month.

He had adored her. He still did. More than every thing else in the world. He had often heard whispers saying that was what had driven her away. That he had suffocated her with his love. He could never comprehend that.

He loved her. He knew only that.

But the truth was that she was separated from him. She had moved out of his house. She would not talk to him about it. He tried his best to start a conversation, the rare few occasions when they happened to meet. She always snubbed him. He heard whispered tales about her promiscuity. He chose not to believe any of those.

He had taken up drinking almost from the night she had walked away. But tonight, he decided he had pined enough. He would let her come to him by herself. He somehow felt sure that she would come back.

He realized that his drink was over. He signaled for another. And another.

A gust of wind from the door made him look up. He saw a man enter the pub. He seemed slightly familiar. The sound of a woman’s laughter froze him. He hadn’t heard that sound for a long time now. Then she stepped inside.

It was almost like a deja-vu.

But, the feelings that rushed into him this time were totally different, though. It was overwhelming. He couldn’t remember what he had been thinking till then. He couldn’t put his finger on the emotion he was feeling. It was a red hot mix of anger, betrayal, hate, self disgust and all other similar feelings. He wasn’t sure that he had any control on his own body. Time appeared to have stopped.

From what felt like far away, he watched the couple in the doorway hug and touch each other playfully. Their flirting made his agony worse. He was dimly aware that he had removed his piece from the holster, cocked it and now it was held in his hand, aimed at the couple at the door. The pub had become deathly silent. It didn't register though.

The couple at the doorway suddenly became aware of him. He could see their smiles and laughter freezing on their faces. Their scared appearances did nothing to ease the roar that in his ears. The scene seemed somewhat alien to him. He felt detached. Numb out of his skull. Blank.

The steel felt cold in his hand.

He didn’t want to kill. He had no clue what he wanted to do.

He became aware that the wind was blowing her hair into a heart-melting disarray.

He had to do something about the roar in his ears. He desperately wanted to feel something else except his finger on the cold trigger.

Behind them, the door closed with a small thump. He tore his eyes off from the couple then, for a split second.

The sign on the door said ‘Pull’.

And so he did.

And again.