Candle lit dinner, wine and bubble bath sprinkled with red petals. This has been going on for the last 2 weeks. Am trying so hard not scream out loud & hide the grossed out look on my face. I love her, I’ve always loved her. Nothing has changed; I just wish she could see that and probably stop all this ‘madness’. She comes down the stairs wearing something so tight and sexy, okay I didn’t pay attention to details but it was that ‘tight and sexy’. I almost rolled my eyes to the back of my head when she welcomed me to the table. ‘Am so tired from last night and am not really hungry’, I said. She made that face again, the ‘my husband doesn’t love me anymore’ face, but it doesn’t have any effect on me anymore. I turned around and went straight to the guest room, locked the door and I called it a night.
We usually have dinner date every Sunday with our closest friends, Oscar and his wife Lenah. They always come to our house, take dinner then Oscar and I go to the same guest room to play some games while the ladies catch up on some gossip and stuff. We stay up late and that’s what I meant when I told my lovely wife that am tired from last night. I didn’t stay long enough to see her tears or allow any type of argument to commence. I want to make her happy, that was the plan since I met her 15 years ago. That plan has been so hard lately with all the tears and arguments every night. She is almost losing it I think.
Ever since she went through my phone 6 months ago, nothing has ever been the same. She was not supposed to see that text or go on my phone for that matter. ‘Who is Caro?’ she asked. My heart stopped for a minute. I knew at this moment I have a choice to either be weak & tell the truth or be a man about it. I snatched the phone from her hand and said ‘no one’. At this point, her face is so difficult to read, I can’t tell what she is thinking or feeling. It was probably 2 seconds of silence but it literally felt like 2 hours or more. I tried as much as possible to avoid the eye contact. ‘So you had fun with her last night?’ she asked. My heart started beating so fast, thinking she’ll connect the dots. The floor beneath my feet metamorphose into quicksand, and I’m sure it can’t be alcohol coz the 30 years whisky in my glass remains untouched, just before the glass slips from my moist fingers and shatters on the floor. I tried to speak but nothing could come out of my mouth, I think of a lie I’d practised ages before but it’s all trapped in my mouth. She started talking so fast and so loud about my sneaky behaviours lately, coming back home late and most importantly not having sexual intercourse with her anymore.
After the text incident, we didn’t talk as much and it went to her head thinking there is something wrong with her, thus the dinners, petals, ‘tight & sexy’ clothes every single night. I felt bad seeing her trying to fix something that doesn’t need fixing. The problem was not her but how could I tell her?
After locking the guest room I took a deep breath as a stare at my favourite side of the bed, and then I smiled. Before the smile faded away, Pauline pushed the door so hard she almost fell. I didn’t even get the chance to ask what was going on, and she was all over me cursing and slapping my face. I gripped her hands so hard and she finally came down and broke down in tears.
I’ve never seen her cry this much, it really hurts to watch. She doesn’t deserve to go through all this; it’s not even her fault. At this moment I realized that I’ve been so selfish to her and myself. I need to tell her the truth and give her a chance to get another man that will love and cherish her. Am embarrassed but I also deserve to be happy, how long will I hide in this closet? It’s easier said than done but better late than never.
We sat on the bed for the first time in 6 months and we decided to talk about this issue once and for all. ‘Are you in love with her?’ she asked. I was so shocked by that question, why is she pretending? Why does she act like she doesn’t know what has been happening every Sunday? Why I love this guest room so much. Then she insisted ‘…Do you love Caro?’ in case I pretend not to know what she is talking about. ‘His name is Oscar’ I said.