THE COLOUR OF ...

FROM PAGE XII at herself, “How could I have forgotten?”

She lay in bed that night, sleepless for a long time, thinking of the friend and the husband, and how different they were. Her friend had not a masculine outlook, but his love for her was genuine. He appreciated her as a woman and supported her ambition and desires, a tolerant and selfless character.

Maria sighed deeply and turned her face to the pillow, hoping she could have a peaceful night’s sleep.

She had given up her best friend for the one her heart had spoken to and in whom she had seen a beautiful life, but not long after marriage, she discovered he had worn a false face. He was not what he had made her believe and too late, she had found herself sharing her life with someone selfish and arrogant, who did not value her worth and who cared not for her desires and ambition, but he called it love.

She had felt betrayed and the beautiful life she believed in, she never had. But it had been her choice, and she had to find her little joys and happiness.

Maria’s eyes closed in sleep, the last thought on her mind, “I wonder if my friend is happy, if he found the right one to share his life with?”

FROM PAGE VII