…….. The next morning, I was having porridge prepared by mother and I felt a
sudden churn in my stomach and everything inside seem to be rushing up my
throat. I tried to suppress the urge to throw up but I could not. I threw down
the bowl, rushed into the washroom, and vomited everything out. Just as I was
catching my breath, I saw mother crying and grumbling very loudly in her
dialect, hubby was standing at the washroom doorway staring at me with fire
burning in his eyes. I opened my mouth but no words came out of it, I really
did not mean it.
We had our very first big fight that day; mother took a look at us, then
stood up and slowly made her way out of the house. Hubby gave me a final stare
in the eye and followed mother down the stairs. For three days, hubby did not
return home, not even a phone call. I was so furious, since mother arrived; I
had been trying my best and putting up with her, what else do you want me to do?
For no reason, I keep having the feeling to throw up and I simply have not
appetite for food, coupled with all the events happening at home, I was at the
low point in my life.
Finally, a colleague said: “LD, you look terrible; you should go and see a doctor.”
The doctor confirmed that I am pregnant. Now it became clear to me why I threw
up that fateful morning, a sense of sadness floated through that otherwise
happy news. Why didn’t hubby, and mother who had been through this before,
thought of the possibility of this being the reason that day? At the hospital
entrance, I saw my hubby standing there. It had only been three days, but he
looked haggard. I had wanted to turn and leave, but one look at him and my
heart soften, I couldn’t resist and called out to him. He followed my voice and
finally found me but he pretended that he doesn’t know me; he has that
disgusted look in his eyes that cut right through my heart. I told myself not
to look at him anymore, and hail a cab. At that moment, I have such a strong
urge inside me to shout to my hubby: “Darling, I am having your baby!” and have
him lift me up and spin me around in circles of joy. What I wanted didn’t
happen and as I sat in the cab, my tears started rolling down. Why? Why our
love couldn’t even withstand the test of one fight?
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: “Your husband’s mother had a
traffic accident and has just dashed off to 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 quarreled, 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 by, hubby came
home later and later. The deadlock between us continued, 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 city centre Chicken Inn, 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 heart beat, 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 checkups
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 it’s 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
others heart. For me, it’s unintentional; for him, totally intentional…
i rilly do feel lyk cryng now....i mean i did not expect to see it degenerate into this....waiting for de nxt part....
ReplyDeletedear Jerry, thanks for the comment. this is a touching story and one every couple must read
ReplyDeletei am totally speechless. communication failure. no wonder a saying goes " assumption is the lowest level of knowledge
ReplyDeleteGud story there. I totaly can relate 2 her esp d moment where forgivenes n partial comm is restored but things never went bak 2 'as it used to be'. But i'd criously lyk 2 point out dat dere r very serious grammatical errors also in tenses, too glaring 2 be ignored. Wouldn't know if it is from d original writer (cos it wuld seem dat dere r 2 diff writers considering d flow of d lang) or from whoever edited it. So pearl, very gud piece bt 2 kip d followership, d language must nt be sacrificed 4 enything. Love it!
ReplyDelete