Theirs was an arranged marriage. Being married to him for four years was a roller-coaster ride, to say the least. They had been through a lot of ups and downs. The courtship period was obviously as it always was – wonderful, worth living again and again. The first year of their marriage was amazing. The getting to know each other, knowing the differences, accepting them and the adjustments. The honeymoon and the love-making.
The second year was good as well, excluding the few fights they had. However, none ever reached the bedroom. Thinking back to those times, it seemed funny now. She did not even know why they did things they did, say things they said.
The third year was tough. The taking for granted had set in and life was on the verge of becoming monotonous. It was the phase where tough decisions had to be taken, choices to be made and priorities to be shifted. It was the time when he wanted to start a family and she thought it was not the time. He never said it in words but her decision hurt him, nevertheless, he accepted her choice. Months later, after careful consideration she told him one night that she was ready. It was time to start a family.
Unfortunately, fate was not ready to let them. The love-making soon turned to attempts to get pregnant. Calendars were set, doctors approached. The right time was decided and then acted upon. Soon the sex became devoid of emotions as each time they came together; it was only to get something out of it. The hardships of it all affected her badly. It affected him too and he got too involved with his work. One night he came home drunk and fought with her. All the pent up emotions finally exploded and he ended up telling her how suffocated he felt, it seemed as if he was stuck in a relationship, which was not leading anywhere.
She had always been of the opinion that marriage did not have to lead anywhere specific. It was just a journey two people who trusted each other took towards the unknown. His words hurt but she had learned not to let her emotions show. She swallowed the pain and helped him towards the bedroom. She took off his shoes and undressed him and tucked him in bed. And then, they had the make-up sex.
That was the last time they had sex. By that time they had entered the fourth year of their marriage. Things had become monotonous. The conversation between the two was dead. Whatever conversation happened, it was formal. Their friends suggested seeing a counselor. Neither of them was ready to open up to the option. They found their own way through their problem.
Then, one day he came home, a look on his face she could not read and understand. It was guilt. He had never been guilty before. He cried as he told her about the mistake. He told her that he had slept with one of his colleagues. It was a one-time thing and had not meant anything to him at that time and it did not mean anything to him even now; the only problem was that the colleague was pregnant and said that the baby was his.
She listened to what he said without a hint of emotion showing on her face. If she was hurt there was no way he could know. She did not know herself whether she was hurt. She simply said that it was not possible that the baby was his because he was infertile and the day he had yelled at her and told her how suffocated he felt and that it seemed as if he was stuck in a relationship, which was not leading anywhere; it was the day when the results had come in. The doctor had suggested a treatment course and she had planned to tell him about it but since he was drunk she had let it be and after that she simply did not want to talk about it.
He stared at her speechless as she walked out of the room realising that it was not him but her that should have felt suffocated and stuck in the relationship. He wanted to apologize but he did not get the chance. She told him that she wanted to be alone for few days. He had suggested that she go to their farm house.
So, here she was – trying to figure out what to do with her life.
She felt exhausted. Walking away from the window she came back and sat on the bed. She pulled her knees close to her chest and sat with her back resting against the headboard of the bed. After a while she picked up pregnancy test stick from the side-table and wondered how she was going to tell her husband that she was pregnant and the child was not his.
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