Only God knows Short Story #1

The old clock ticks repeatedly in my ear as I struggle to sleep. The repeated tick-tock of the clock becomes a little monotonous like the chirping of the crickets on the ledge of my window. I moan as I turn over to your side and attempt to shut my eyes. Instead, I find myself sad and forlorn in the company of your absence. I begin to think back to when times were easier, and the times where we got along effortlessly. The times when we would walk through the mall and hold hands, our grasp so tight even the strongest of winds couldn’t survive its grip. The times where a simple gift of flowers was left at my office desk just because and would leave me with an effortless smile, grinning from ear to ear. I miss the days when we would arrive home and talk about our days, no matter how long and tiring they were. We would lie down next to each other in an embrace and fall asleep in each other’s arms. I miss the times when you would wake up before me and gently stroke my hair before telling me it was time to go upstairs to bed. I miss the times we would then fall into bed and make pure and genuine love filled with passion and respect. Based on these attributes, I would have never guessed what would happen next. Your usual alarm on your phone blared at 4:30. I understand that you had to wake early. Your job required it. You were a surgeon after all and your job required that you rush to the hospital in a fury no matter the time that popped up on your phone. However, what I did not expect to see was 20 text messages sent from another woman asking when she could meet you for your weekly sexual encounter. I also saw other texts where she proclaimed her love for you and described to you what I had known for many years. She described in great detail how handsome you were. How you made her glow like millions of Christmas lights after making love to her. You have no idea how empty this left me feeling. Throughout our marriage, we have always been able to take the good with the bad. We have been able to talk out the arguments, even when they were silly and petty. This, however, is something I was not certain how to approach. Throughout my years of therapy and counseling, I had picked up on the fact that it was best to approach things with an even temper, calm and reassuring. I have no doubt I was upset and in shock. I felt that my face was hot with the anticipation of approaching and having this conversation. Feeling my blood pressure rise, I made sure to reach for my blood pressure medication and my muscle relaxants that I took every morning. I gently turned the light on to wake my husband and was careful not to do so aggressively. I grabbed my generously filled water glass and chugged down my two pills before my husband could take notice. His morning unwashed hair stuck up in the air like that of a troll. He rubbed his tiredly exhausted eyes and scooted over to my side of the bed. Good Morning, beautiful he muttered under his breath. Good morning, honey, I muttered back, careful to hide my betrayed heart. Maybe the morning wasn’t a good time to discuss this, I thought. He had five critical surgeries he had to perform as soon as he arrived at work, I wouldn’t want to make him frazzled and have him mess up someone’s life because of our life at home. You then carefully picked me up and led me down the stairs. We had left my wheelchair downstairs last night because we were in such a hurry to get upstairs and make love. As you carried me, your beautiful blue eyes looked back at me with an immense amount of adoration and love. I knew that I would be scratching my head wondering where things were going wrong. Sure, I had lots of writing work waiting for me to complete while you were gone. Maybe the cathartic nature of my writing would take away some of the pain I was feeling. It had always been pretty adept at helping me erase the hurt. That was the part I loved most about being an independent writer. I especially liked that I could take all of the time in the world I needed to make sure my work was on par with my satisfaction levels. I knew that this gift was from God himself. He knew that I needed a way to feel like I could work without leaving my house. He knew that I needed something positive to help me contribute to this brutal world. However, I am not sure my day job could help ease the heart through the knife feeling that was culminating in my body at the moment. Highlights of our marriage would play through my heart to assess where things could have possibly have gone wrong. Playing the film over and over again and studying it with the likes of Drew Brees would never help me understand. I know it wasn’t me. Perhaps something was wrong with him. Hours went by with me busying myself with the day’s writing. Before I knew it, it was dark outside and almost 8:00. Miles would be home soon and utterly exhausted I am sure. Dirty and bogged down from hours of meticulous surgery. His beyond brilliant mind was as sharp as the instruments with which he performed the surgery. His intelligence was what attracted me to him in the first place. His millions of patients were also intrigued and taken aback by his knowledge. This very aspect of him left him with nothing but five-star reviews across the expanse of medical review websites and in the professional boards. He did nothing but make me proud each day he came home from work overly tired. One thing was certain; he loved his job, and always anticipated sharing the fascinating medical innovation stories with me. This was just one of the million reasons I fell head over heels in love with him. Perhaps I would order some Chinese food, his favorite, to also soften the blow. Before I knew it, my mind had carried me further into the night with my daydreaming. Before I knew it, it was nearly nine o’clock in the evening, and I heard Miles outside the door rustling with the apartment key, mindful of the fact that I would probably be resting after a long day of writing and sitting at my desk in my wheelchair. Another reason why I loved him for what I thought would be death do us part. He not only accepted my Cerebral Palsy and severe levels of spasticity, but he took the time to truly understand the massive toll it took on my mind and body. He never dared to criticize me for having an off or lazy day. He knew I wasn’t lazy and needed the rest more than he could ever bare to imagine. As he opened the door, he cracked a smile and his eyes shone with glee as he saw I had ordered from China Garden, his favorite restaurant, and it was sitting ready for him on the table, piping hot and ready to eat. He greeted me with a beautiful smile, his lips and unshaven face scrape my face. I love you, he said, it truly is the little things that make me realize how much. I was a little taken aback by his sweet attitude knowing what I had found out this morning, but to be fair, he still hadn’t the slightest clue that I knew. I wasn’t the type of wife to typically look at his phone, either, but when 20 text messages appear below his alarm, you can’t help but to take notice. He poured us both a generous portion of our favorite glass of wine before sitting down gently at the table. All of a sudden, I noticed that his face changed from one of happiness to one of guilt. Here we go, I thought. Babe, he began. Then, I saw his eye jet down to my beautiful wedding ring he had given me on that boiling hot June day just three years ago. I have something to tell you.. and.. and it’s not good. I have been sleeping with another woman with no logical reason. Our sex life is great, and our marriage is even better. It’s just that I met this woman one day after a hard day at work when I decided to go to a bar. Having drunk more than a few gin and tonics, she became more and more attractive to me, and it just happened. I am truly sorry. Taken aback by his genuine admission, I sat back staring into space and my heart began to slowly harden. I know, I replied. I saw your phone this morning when I reached for it to turn off your alarm this morning. I saw all of the texts, and while I couldn’t argue with her sentiments that you were great in bed, I just can’t understand. I know we are both human and have our sexual needs, but I thought I was more than satisfying that requirement. I am hurt beyond belief, and with that being said, I think it would be best for us to spend a few days apart to test just how much we need one another. Miles didn’t argue. He rose from the table, his eyes streaming down with a flood of tears, packed a small bag, and closed the door softly behind him. Part of me felt a sigh of relief at his exit, but deep down, I knew I would experience a night of heartache and countless tears, with the ticking of the clock being my only source of company. I had never in my life experienced such a hardened sort of hurt. Why does the love of your life continually cheat on you? Why when your sex life is something out of a dream? I guess this is not for us to know. Only God knows our plans….