The After Marriage Betrayal

He woke up.

The sheets rustled lightly. Irrespective of how quiet he attempted to be, he woke me. Last night I prayed hard that he wouldn’t go see her again. Somewhere during the chanting of prayers, I slipped into an uncomfortable slumber. My body lay there, but in the deep recesses of my mind, I continued to pray that he wouldn’t leave in the morning.

But he did. Yet again. No explanations. No discussions.

He took advantage of the early morning cold that had sneaked into the month and the consequent laze that seemingly lulled his entire family into deep slumber. Taking camouflage in the fog that blanketed the morning, he stepped out.

With an invisible hand of sorts, he had dismissed the morning time we spent together to be elsewhere. He probably prided himself on the fact that I didn’t know. But I did. I suspected it before he perhaps acknowledged it to himself.  A wife always knows. I knew when he came. I knew when he left. Those unaccountable minutes. Those extra rupees being spent.  I sensed it. And while I hoped it stopped, here it was, again this morning.

I lay there wondering how she had, silently crept into our marriage. Had the tide and ebb of time worn out our marriage? It tore me to bits when I noticed he was spending so much time with her outside. While, in no way did it affect our family life or his equation with the kids, it hurt me that he felt so deeply for her.
I didn’t want to confront him. The possibility that she took precedence over me was too much to consider. But could I live with another love in his life? Could I share him?

The shower turned off. I snapped out of my thoughts.  I shut my eyes and pretended to sleep. Within seconds he was out. With quick, crisp movements he was dressed and out of the house.

I needed to confirm that it was her yet again. Summoning my strength, I went and stood near the window. I peeped out. There she was. I had to admit it. Even in this morning cold, she warmed the heart. She was gorgeous.

I noticed him admiring her. My heart ached.  His fingers gently cascading down her body, caressing her curves, that glimmer in his eyes, the pride that he owned her like he couldn’t own me. When did he last look at me like this, I wondered.

What should I do about it?  I had a son and a daughter to look after.

All I could do was pray that he got over his love for the new car soon!!