The Marriage
When I got home that night as my wife served dinner, I held her hand and said, “I have got something to tell you.” She sat down and ate quietly while I observed the hurt in her eyes. Suddenly, I did not know how to open my mouth, but I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised the topic calmly. She did not seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, “Why?” I avoided her question and this made her angry. She threw the chopsticks and shouted at me, “You are not a man!” That night, we did not talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage, but I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer. She had lost my heart to Dew. I did not love her anymore. I just pitied her.
With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our car, our house, and 30% stake of my company. She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. The woman who had spent ten years of her life with me had become a stranger. I felt sorry for her wasted energy, resources, and time, but I could not take back what I had said for I loved Dew so dearly. Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me, her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be clearer and firmer now.
The next day, I came back home very late and found her writing something at the table. I did not have supper but went straight to sleep and fell asleep very fast because I was tired after an eventful day with Dew. When I woke up, she was still at the table writing. I did not care so I turned over and was asleep again.
In the morning she presented her divorce conditions telling me that she did not want anything from me, but needed a month's notice before the divorce. She requested that in that one month we both struggle to live a normal life as much as possible. Her reasons were simple, our son will be having his examinations in a month's time and she did not want to disrupt him with our broken marriage. This was agreeable to me, but she had something more. She asked me to recall how I had carried her into the bridal room on our wedding day. She requested that every day for the month's duration that I carry her out of our bedroom to the front door every morning. I thought she was going crazy. Just to make our last days together bearable, I accepted her odd request.
I told Dew about my wife's divorce conditions and she laughed loudly and thought that it was absurd. “No matter what tricks she applies, she has to face the divorce.” Dew said scornfully.
My wife and I had not had any body contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. When I carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is holding mummy in his arms. His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly, “Do not tell our son about the divorce.” I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for the bus to go to work while I drove to the office alone.
On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realised that I had not looked at this woman carefully for a long time. I realised she was not young anymore. There were fine wrinkles on her face and her hair was greying. Our marriage had taken its toll on her. For a minute I wondered what I had done to her.
On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a sense of intimacy returning. This was the woman who had given ten years of her life to me. On the fifth and sixth day, I realised that our sense of intimacy was growing again. I did not tell Dew about this. It became easier to carry her as the month slipped by. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger.
She was choosing what to wear one morning. She tried on quite a few dresses but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, all my dresses have grown bigger. I suddenly realised that she had grown so thin, that was the reason why I could carry her more easily. Suddenly it hit me. She had buried so much bitterness and pain in her heart. Subconsciously, I reached out and touched her head.
Our son came in at that moment and said, “Daddy, it is time to carry mummy out.” To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had become an essential part of his life. My wife gestured to our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face away because I was afraid I might change my mind at the last minute. I then held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly just like how I did on our wedding day. However, her much lighter weight made me sad. On the last day, when I held her in my arms, I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. I held her tightly and said, “I had not noticed that our life lacked intimacy.”
I drove to the office and jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my mind. I walked upstairs. Dew opened the door and I said to her, “Sorry Dew, I do not want the divorce anymore.”
She looked at me, astonished, and then touched my forehead. “Do you have a fever?” She said. I moved her hand off my head. “Sorry Dew,” I said, “I will not divorce.” My marriage life was boring probably because my wife and I did not value the details of our lives, not because we did not love each other anymore. Now I realise that since I carried her into my house on our wedding day, I am supposed to hold her until death do us apart. Dew seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap, slammed the door, and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove away.
At the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet of flowers for my wife. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote, I will carry you out every morning until death do us apart.
That evening I arrived home with a smile on my face and flowers in my hand, I ran up stairs, only to find my wife in bed. She was dead. I know how her heart could not bear to hear my last words. I still carried her, one last time, this time with a wretched heart.
The small details in our lives are the things that really matter in a relationship. It is not the car, the house, or the money in the bank. These things create an environment conducive for happiness but cannot give happiness themselves.
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