Continuing from last edition (Monday 18th Jan, 2016)…
…Back home, I lay on the bed thinking about my hubby, and the disgusted look in his eyes. I cried and wet the corner of the blanket. That night, sound of the drawers opening woke me up. I switched on the lights and I saw hubby with tears rolling down his face. He was removing the money. I stared at him in silence; he ignored me, took the bank deposit book and some money and left the house. Maybe he really intends to leave me for good. What a rational man, so clear-cut in love and money matters. I gave a few dried laugh and tears starting streaming down again.
The next day, I did not go to work. I wanted to clear this out and have a good talk with hubby. I reached his office and his secretary gave me a weird look and said: “Mr. Tan’s mother had an accident and is now in the hospital.” I stood there in shock. I rushed to the hospital and by the time I found hubby, mother had already passed away. Hubby did not look at me. His face was expressionless. I looked at mother’s pale white and thin face and I couldn’t control the tears in my eyes. My god, how could this happen?
Throughout the funeral, hubby did not say a single word to me, with only the occasional disgusted stare at me. I only managed to find out brief facts about the accident from other people. That day, after mother left the house, she walked in dazed toward the bus stop, apparently intending to go back to her old house back in the countryside. As hubby ran after her, she tried to walk faster and as she tried to cross the street, a public bus came and hit her… I finally understood how much hubby must hate me, if I had not thrown up that morning, if we had not quarrelled, if… In his heart, I am indirectly the killer of his mother.
Hubby moved into mother’s room and came home every night with a strong liquor smell on him. And me, I am buried under the guilt and self-pity and could hardly breathe. I wanted to explain to him, tell him that we are going to have our baby soon, but each time, I saw the dead look in his eyes, all the words I have at the brink of my mouth just fell back in. I had rather he hit me real hard or give me a big and thorough scolding though none of these events happening had been my fault at all.
Many days of suffocating silence went by and as the days went, hubby came home later and later. The deadlock between us continues, we were living together like strangers who don’t know each other. I am like the dead knot in his heart. One day, I passed by a western restaurant, looking into the glass window, I saw hubby and a girl sitting facing each other and he very lightly brushed her hair for her; I understood what it meant. After recovering from that moment of shock, I entered the restaurant, stood in front of my hubby and stared hard at him, not a tear in my eyes. I have nothing to say to him, and there is no need to say anything. The girl looked at me, looks at hubby, stands up and wanted to go, hubby stretched out his hand and stopped her. He stared back at me, challenging me. I can only hear my slow heartbeat, beating, one by one as if at the brink of death. I eventually backed down, if I had stood that any longer, I will collapse together with the baby inside me. That night, he did not come home; he had chosen to use that as a way to indicate to me: Following mother’s death so did our love for each other.
He did not come home anymore after that. Sometimes, when I returned home from work, I can tell that the cupboard had been touched – he had returned to take some of his stuff. I no longer wish to call him; the initial desire to explain everything to him vanished. I lived alone; I go for my medical check-ups alone, my heart breaks again and again every time I see a guy carefully helping his wife through the physical examination. My office colleagues hinted to me to consider aborting the baby, I told them, “No, I will not”. I insisted on having to this baby, perhaps it is my way of repaying mother for causing her death.
One day, I came home and I saw hubby sitting in the living room. The whole house was filled with cigarette smoke. On the coffee table, there was this piece of paper. I know what it is all about without even looking at it. In the two months plus of living alone, I have gradually learned to find peace within myself. I looked at him, removed my hat and said: “You wait a while, I will sign.” He looked at me, mixed feelings in his eyes, just like mine. As I hang up my coat, I keep repeating to myself “You cannot cry, you cannot cry…” my eyes hurt terribly, but I refused to let tears come out from there. After I hung up my coat, hubby’s eyes stared fixed at my bulging tummy. I smiled, walked over to the coffee table and pulled the paper towards me. Without even looking at what it says, I signed my name on it and pushed the paper to him. “LD, are you pregnant?” Since mother’s accident, this is the first time he spoke to me. I could not control my tears any further and they fell like raindrops. I said: “Yes, but its ok, you can leave now.” He did not go, in the dark, we sat, facing each other. Hubby slowly moved over me, his tears wet the blanket. In my heart, everything seems so far away, so far that even if I sprint, I could never reach them. I cannot remember how many times he repeated “sorry” to me. I had originally thought that I would forgive him, but now I can’t. In the western restaurant, in front of that girl, that cold look in his eyes, I will never forget, ever. We have drawn such deep scars in each other’s heart. For me, it’s unintentional; for him, totally intentional. I had been waiting for this moment of reconciliation, but I realized now, what had gone past is gone forever and could not repeated.
Other than the thought of the baby inside me that would bring some warmth to my heart, I am totally cold towards him, I no longer eat anything he buys for me, I don’t take any presents from him and I stopped talking to him. From the moment I signed on that piece of paper, marriage and love had vanished from my heart. Sometimes, hubby will try to come into the bedroom, but when he walks in, I will walk out to the living room. He had no choice but to sleep in mother’s room. At night, from his room, I can hear light sounds of groaning, I kept quiet… This used to be his trick; last time, whenever I ignore him, he would fake illness and I will surrender and find out what is wrong with him, he would then grab me and laugh. He has forgotten that last time I cared for him and am concerned because there was love, but now, what is there between us? Hubby’s groaning came on and off continuing but I continuously ignored him.
Next time on Heart Tales, things get better then worse… LD didn’t see this coming… Till then, don’t forget to share this with friends and families, also like and comment.
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