Shattered vows

Chapter Two

I woke up with an atrocious headache. Looking over to the living room, you had already left. Strange, I think to myself, because you’re working in two hours. I picked up my phone and saw a text message from you. « Hey, went and got breakfast with Adam. Took some leftovers for work. See you tonight ». Adam was your best friend. You grew up together and were practically like brothers. You used to always tell me that there was only one person on this planet you could sacrifice yourself for, and that was Adam. Not your mother, not me, but your best friend. I sigh and get out of bed. After taking a long hot shower, I got dressed to have my daily run. Upon meeting you, I decided to quit my career to focus on you and the household. Being a housewife is a full-time job that I enjoyed, but I knew I had to get back to work someday. With my master’s degree, it shouldn’t be so hard to find a job, but I was really struggling to find something that fit me. Also, you were very successful and earned well, so as of now, we could perfectly live with one salary.

During my run, I couldn’t help the tears from streaming down my face. It’s very difficult for me to keep all of my pain in, and crying is how I get all of my emotions out. You and I were madly in love before our marriage, but I feel like I have a different person in front of me now. We met in the library. I was looking for a book but couldn’t find it even though it said on the library website that it was available. When I asked a librarian about the book, you heard me and gave me the book I was looking for. You had apparently been here for this particular book as well but said that you could wait until I finished reading it. You gave me your number, so we could meet when I have finished the book and give it back to you. After 2 weeks, we saw each other again, and our date went great. After that, we had date after date, each one of them being amazing.

Growing up religious, it was important for me to stay a virgin until marriage. You were a God-fearing man and promised me that you were a virgin as well, and you wanted to wait until marriage before taking that step. But of course, in a 2-year-long relationship, we were intimate in other ways. There was a lot of making out, touching and sometimes even undressing. As I continued my run, I started thinking of all of those heated moments we had before marriage, and how we couldn’t wait to be together in holy matrimony, so we could go all the way. Now, you and I are not intimate anymore, and I don’t understand why. Ever since I’ve known you, you have always been a hot and cold person. One day you were madly in love, the other day you didn’t want to have anything to do with me and were distant.

After my run, doing the groceries, cleaning our apartment from top to bottom, I start making dinner for you. Today feels different from yesterday. I don’t feel like making myself pretty for you. I don’t feel like making a nice dinner for you. I don’t feel like doing anything for you because it was unnecessary; you never noticed, nor did you care. While I stir the Mac and cheese in my sweats and my hair in a messy bun, I hear you behind me. “Hello, my love”. Your voice sends a shiver down my spine, and I can’t help the thought that creeps into my mind: “do I look pretty enough?”. I turned around and force a little smile on my lips and answer «Hi ». You come next to me and kiss my cheek. I can feel your eyes on me, looking confused. “Is everything alright? I just came in here to tell you that the leftover food was incredible, but if you want me to leave you alone, I can”. Don’t roll your eyes, I tell myself. I can’t help the annoyed look on my face and the annoyance in my attitude because you were clearly asking me to reassure you and to tell you that I want you next to me and I want to spend time with you, after spending three whole weeks alone in my bed. “Thank you, and it’s up to you if you want to stay or leave”. I kindly push you out of the way, so I can get to the fridge to get some extra cheese. “That’s not an answer to my question though. I don’t understand your attitude, I just came home from work, I’m tired, I’m trying to spend time with you, and this is how you react”. I let out a sigh because I felt mentally tired, and I didn’t have the energy to fight. “You’re right, I’m sorry. The food is ready, are you hungry?”. You look a little surprised by my answer but leave it like that and nod. You sit at the table and are on your phone, waiting for the food. I grab our plates of Mac and cheese and sit at the table. You look up from your phone and have an amused look in your eyes. “You made Mac and cheese? What are we, 12?” I can tell you want to laugh. I glare at you and think to myself, how rude can one person be? “At least I cooked you something. Next time I’ll let you starve”. I take both of our plates back to the kitchen. “Hey hey hey, what are you doing?” You ask me gently. You grab my arm when I’m halfway through the kitchen. “Hey, I’m sorry I was just trying to lighten the mood. I feel you very tense, and I don’t want to see you like this. But I shouldn’t have said that I’m really sorry … please don’t let me starve”. I looked down to look into your eyes and I saw you have a little smirk. Your sense of humor has never been very amusing to me. This is something that we’ve talked about many times. I don’t mind a joke here and there, but not when I’m the butt of the joke. « Here’s your food, I’m going to bed. » I give you your plate back and head straight to bed. After half an hour, you join me in bed. « Hey, are you on your period? ». I look at you as if you had grown a second head. Part of me wants to lash out at you and share all of my frustrations, but another part is exhausted at doing so. “No, I am not.” I continue reading my book and ignore your piercing look at me. “Okay, I was just wondering because you got mad at me for making a joke. You have to lighten up and learn how to take a joke”. I put my book beside me and looked at you before letting out an aggravated sigh. “And what part about you making fun of my cooking is funny? Because I can’t seem to understand it”. I can feel my eyes widen, my cheeks becoming hot with anger and my breath being uneven. You scoff and get up. “Look, it’s a dumb joke. Stop taking everything so seriously and stop trying to pin something negative on me. I’m going through a hard time, and you’re not even there for me. All you do is cook and put makeup on, but you never take the time to listen or to be there for me. And now you want to blame me for a funny joke. That was the last straw for me. I’ve tried everything for you, but nothing makes you happy. I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.” You took your stuff, and before I had the time to reply to your accusations, you were already gone. The slam on the bedroom door broke my heart a bit, and I forced myself not to cry. I can understand your pain because of the absence of your father, but it didn’t give you the right to be mean to me because you were suffering. When your father got arrested, you were very upset. I would very often sit next to you and listen to you while you opened your heart to me. One day, you told me you were upset, and when I asked you why, like I had done all of those times before, you said you never wanted to talk about it. That it bothered you that I had to bring up your pain every single time even though you were the one who had brought up the fact that you were sad. To you, talking about your emotions made you even more sad. That night, you had left and came home at 2 AM. You were out with friends because they understood you better. That meant that I had spent the night all alone not even knowing where my husband was, because you weren’t picking up your phone. I was still awake waiting anxiously for you to come home. When you did, you barely looked at me. I went over to you to ask you where you were, and you didn’t answer me. You wanted to sleep on the couch, because I had made you sad by bringing up your dad. I reminded you that I didn’t, that you came to me and told me you were sad, so I wanted to be there for you and asked you what was wrong. As always, you looked at me with wide eyes and told me that never happened. According to you, I bring up your dad all the time for no reason whatsoever. That I did it for fun, to hurt you. That I enjoyed seeing you hurt. That I didn’t have a heart because I wanted my husband to suffer. And for that reason, you wanted to sleep on the couch that night. Tonight, you were still sleeping in the living room, away from me. I felt alone, I felt abandoned, and I felt like I was being wrongly accused. My marriage was my whole world. I could give my life for you. And then I get those accusations thrown at me. I stood up to join you because I hadn’t given you my piece of mind. “Are you serious right now? Storming out like that? Not even giving me the opportunity to reply to those ridiculous accusations?”. The anger rolled out of my tongue, and my built-up frustration was about to come out. “Just leave, I’m not in the mood for this, alright?”. I could see the fatigue in your eyes. But I still had a lot of anger that needed to be shared with you. As I opened my mouth to answer, you looked up at me. “Don’t”. And just like that, I didn’t. I shut my mouth and went back to bed. All alone.