DIARY OF A TORMENTED HUSBAND
I sit up in bed yawning widely while stretching my arms forward looking at my wife’s side of the bed as I do so.
I am not surprised to find it empty Tasha is an early riser- she is always up before daylight.
The curtains are drawn and there is a bit of sunlight peeking into the room.
I get out of bed, grab my black chenille robe, pull it on and head out of the room.
Walking into the kitchen, I find my wife preparing coffee. She is immaculately dressed in an expensive knee length sparkling blue dress. The dress is tailored to fit her like a glove.
Her hair is tied into a tight bun leaving two strands to frame each side of her face. I eye her from head to toe and back again, she is still as attractive as when I first met her.
Small dark eyes, flawless skin which is lightly tanned hour glass figure & a beautiful face.
I walk over to her and hug her from behind, with my arms wrapped around her, I lean in slightly and kiss the back of her neck but she flinches and I step back.
An awkward silence follows.
Finally she turns around, ‘Morning,’ she says, her voice is cold.
‘Morning,’ I respond.
When the coffee is ready, she pours herself a cup of coffee and sits at the kitchen table.
‘Clarence won’t be coming in today, you need to wake the children up and prepare them for school,’ she says wrapping her hands around the cup. Clarence is our maid we hired her when we had our second child.
‘Why didn’t you prepare them?’ I ask
She shots me a serious stare, ‘Do you honestly want me to respond to that?’ she asks
‘Tasha, you know I have to be at work too, you woke up earlier, you could have gotten them ready for school.’
‘Not today Satan,’ she mumbles under her breath.
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She takes a large sip of her coffee before she intently looks at me, ‘Fred, make sure you get the kids ready for school, this is not negotiable,’ she says.
I blow out an irritated breath, ‘I am not your maid I am your husband Tasha.’
She is about to respond when suddenly her phone which is on the cupboard rings and she jumps spilling her coffee all over the table, I quickly grab a towel and begin mopping up the spill while she answers the phone.
“Let me call you back in a bit, I am about to leave the house, she says.’
She ends the call and drops her phone in her handbag. And she faces me.
‘Don’t forget to prepare the children breakfast and also pack some food in their lunch boxes for break.’
I don’t respond.
‘See you,’ with that she walks out.
I walk to the living room window and peer at her walking to her car. Before she climbs in, her phone rings again, when she thinks no one is watching, she pulls her phone from her bag and answers smilingly.
After a minute she gets into her Porsche and drives away.
I walk back to the kitchen and pour myself some wine I take a big gulp and allow the warmth of the alcohol thaw me. Closing my eyes, I wonder where I went wrong with my wife.
To the world I seem to have it all, a successful beautiful wife, a huge sprawling house & two beautiful daughters, Talia 7 and Tailor 3 but in reality I am tormented, empty and lonely.
Tash and I met about 11 years ago at church a friend had invited me over to their church. The first time I laid my eyes on her, my heart raced with joy, she made me feel things I had never felt before.
After that encounter we became friends we went on several dates before I asked her to be my girlfriend, a year later I asked her to marry me and she agreed.
We had a small ceremony, only a few close friends and relatives but it was the most exciting day of my life, just standing by the altar next to her meant the world to me.
Our marriage was great in the beginning, we were inseparable. She led me to Christ and I got baptized in her church. I was working a small school at that time and even though I was earning much, life was good.
I remember I would come back home from work tired and she would be waiting for me at the door, she would gently kiss me, led me into the house, massage my feet and prepare a warmth bath for me.
And then there was the s£x, with her s£x was different than ever before, I explored her body and learnt what she loved and what she didn’t, through s£x I was able to communicate my love for her and it was amazing.
We were not teenagers but we were not quiet grownups and life was so much easy then.
After a while, she got tired of being a housewife and started looking for a job but because she had only gone up to grade 12, she couldn’t find any decent job, I saw how this frustrated her.
After she gave birth to Talia, I saved up some money and enrolled her into University to study accountancy and finance.
She had our second daughter when she as in her final year but she still managed to ace her exams with good grades. A year after graduating, she landed herself a job as an auditor for the bank of Zambia.
And then things changed.
One day she stopped cooking for me, one day she stopped touching, one day she became cold and stopped listening to me. Tash spends most of her time at work and when she is home, she is always on her phone or
laptop. She doesn’t include me in anything she does I think she no longer remembers she has a husband because she is the husband now.
The only time Tash pays attention to me is when we are at church or at a function where she needs to show me off. After I make an appearance, she places me back into the closet.
Our s£x life is non- existent, there is no intimacy at all, I try to initiate s£x on different occasions but I have experienced rejection from her more times than I can count.
A sudden uproar brings my mind back to the present and I run to the children’s bedroom to see if they are fine. “What?’ I ask Talia who is screaming.
She points at the wall in horror I turn to the direction where her hand is pointing and that’s when I see what had scared her. It is a huge black spider climbing on the wall.
I grab a nearby shoe and hit it repeatedly.
‘Is it dead daddy?’ she asks
I laugh, ‘Yes it is darling.’
‘But why are you laughing at me?’ she pouts.
‘How does a big girl like you scream like that?’
‘Spiders are scary.’
‘Oh please, girl it’s time to get ready for school.’
DIARY OF A TORMENTED HUSBAND