Chapter 2 / 51 · 2 min

A Suicide

Aroni said, “Push me.”

Sabbir flinched.

She was sitting on the railing of a twenty-six-storey rooftop, her legs dangling over the edge. In that position, asking to be pushed could only mean one thing.

For the first time, he felt afraid of Aroni.

“Come down, Aroni.”

“No.”

“Did something happen?”

“Probably. Is there something you want to tell me?”

My chest tightened.

Did she know about Sabrina?

Shit. Shit. Shit.

How would I ever face her?

“Remember? Back in class four, I stood at the edge of the pond and said the exact same thing to you. Push me. Back then, death felt so attractive to me. But you wouldn’t let me die.”

I stayed quiet.

Did she really know about Sabrina?

“You came into my life. You gave me a reason to live. Then you cheated.”

“My suicide note is in the bedroom. No one will blame you. You can at least do this much for me, can’t you?”

Honestly, I had thought about it more than once.

If Aroni — suicidal since childhood — simply killed herself, everything would become so much easier for me.

But how could I kill her myself?

“If it helps, I tried to kill you yesterday. There were sleeping pills in your tea. You didn’t drink it.”

I don’t know what came over me after she said that.

I pushed her.

She fell from the twenty-sixth floor and her head split open against the ground. A good part of her brain had spilled out, though from that height it was hard to be sure.

I walked back home feeling nothing.

Instead of faking tears over her body, I wanted to read what she’d written before dying.

Back home, I stared at the papers lying on the bed.

It wasn’t a suicide note.

Aroni had filed a police report.

She believed her husband was going to kill her.