02 : 05 the clock read.
Tired. She finds the term weak, and yet none other came to her sleep-deprived mind. She watches her husband stumble into the room, trying but failing to be discreet. The smell of alcohol and cheap perfume soon fills her nostrils, and she bites back an enraged shout. She pretends to sleep instead, as per usual.
She needs to put an end to the masquerade that has become her life. She knows that, but she cannot take action for some reason. And that revolts her and saddens her in equal measures.
The kitchen knife set is calling to her. Shall it be her life or his? Several scenarios play in front of her closed lids, and she takes bittersweet pleasure in them.
She shakes her head, dismissing both the homicidal and the suicidal ideas.
She will leave him. She has to. Already, she can see herself packing, renting a room in some motel, and filing for divorce. She longs to start a new chapter. She can almost taste the happiness…
But then, the morning comes. He joins her in the kitchen right on time for breakfast. Fresh out of shower, he looks impeccable, no trace of his debauchery in sight. He greets her, smiles at her – teeth, dimples and all – and she’s seventeen again.
There’s no leaving this man, she inwardly sighs as she pours him coffee. Not as long as he still wants her by his side. And she hates herself for her weakness, and she hates him for the control he has over her. Nevertheless, her love for him overpowers her self-loathing, as it always does in the morning.
“Next time, I will leave before dawn,” she vows to herself on the way to her workplace.
But until then, she will have to face the pity in the eyes of her friends. And she suspects it will be a long while before she finally snaps. The vow is one she knows only too well after all.
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& that’s yet another piece written by yours truly.
I’ll be waiting for your comments.