that Beryl was a pure soul. She was the one with a big heart and as such she would suffer more. Sheila never told them about her husband’s mistress or the various calls that came in for him. She never told them that she had often wanted to leave him. She never told them that like her Mother she believed in the sanctity of her vows. She had not even told them about Baby Jamal, whom she was adopting. Beryl had met the little boy and loved him. She would spoil him, at least with children around a woman can forget her husband’s infidelity. It was Beryl who made her hold her head high and now she would do the same. She smiled at the thought of her sister growing stronger.
She knew it would take her a while but Mark would never fool around again. She could break his neck if she had to.
Mark sat looking at the entrance of the restaurant hoping to see her walk in. The place he chose was where they first met. She did not object to the venue, but he could sense some distance. It was the same feeling that Nelson had warned him about. “The opposite of love is not hate Mark, it is indifference. When she does not care about anything you do, know you have lost her.” He sipped his cocktail as he watched the door hoping to see her smile-even for the last time.
The clock struck two and his heart started racing. He went through his phone asking himself if he ought to call or not. If she was driving she would not answer it. Given that she was a marketer Beryl could get anyone to buy a property but she hadn’t invested in an earpiece. She often told him to switch off his phone while he was driving but after witnessing three accidents she had changed her mind. She had come home bewildered and had demanded that he call her even if he was taking his last breath!
He smiled at the thought and looked up to see her walk in a blue dress. It was the dress she had got from her friend for her birthday. He had told her the dress was appealing- it showed off her curves and beautiful legs. He rose to greet her. She tried to move her lips to smile, and she sat down opposite him. He adjusted his tie and asked the waitress to come and take their order. She asked for a glass of mango juice, steamed rice and some chicken stew. He looked at her face…there he saw a storm brewing and he sat back in his seat. He had lost her, God how he’d give everything to go back in time. His Father’s words came to him and stung his conscience like a whiff of still air. “It takes a man to admit his mistakes but an even better man to struggle and make things right.”
“My boy, there are no super men, but struggling men. We fight so many things, most of them all in the mind…for we have been brought up to defend manhood, how can you defend something that depends on your relationship with another person you can barely understand?”
“Mark, when things are tough do your research and fight for change like you do in the courtroom.”
“Being a man is not about having muscles but fighting for something especially when the whole world is against you.”
“You need to laugh, loosen up a little but keep your eyes on your goal…do not sleep like the drunken fool, but like the guard who has to protect but is scared of the dark.”
“Do not disappoint me my boy, lest they say he’s like his Father. Be your own man, and do not regret having not given any endeavor your best shot.”
He looked at her and sighed, she was gone and he could feel it. There was this huge void-it was the kind of feeling that warriors faced on the eve of battle. The sense of calm often came before bloodshed. He looked at her one more time and wondered what happened to the breath of fresh air he had. He had to try either way. He had to make a move and so he set out.
“Thank you for coming.”
“I said I would be here didn’t I?”
“Yes you did, I am glad to see you.”
“I am not, but it cannot be helped can it?”
“No, I guess not.”
“How is work?”
“Good.”
“I am glad to hear that.”
“How was your trip?”
“Safe, calm and beautiful. I can’t believe I have to start working as from tomorrow and with this major conference coming up I guess they’ll be working me overtime.”
“Okay.”
“Aren’t you going to eat something? You look frail.”
“I am fine thank you. I guess I just need some pastry to get me going.”
“Okay, will you be home tonight?”
“I will.”
“So, I guess after lunch you have to get back to work.”
“I was thinking of going home and getting some sleep. I have to make three appearances at the Supreme Court tomorrow, I need to rest.”
“Okay and I will be sure to get your good suits out so I can get you looking good tomorrow. I am sure you will do a good job.”
“Thank you.”
“I know this may be the wrong time to spring this up, but …”
“It is the wrong time, so now just eat up and we will talk when the time is right. Relax, have a few laughs and we’ll sort this one out later. Do you remember our first date?”
“Yeah, I showed up twenty minutes early and you were so nervous you barely ate your meal.”
“I was, but I am not anymore, right?”
“No you are not.”
“Eat up will you, look at your eyes Mark, I am gone one month and you have lost so much weight! Come on, please eat and are you driving us home?”
“Would you like me to?”
“Yes, but only after you eat!”
Bathroom Break
Beryl walked into the washrooms before they left the restaurant for home. She told Mark she had to freshen up and left him seated, waiting for her. Her hand slightly brushed his as she stood to leave and her heart leapt. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and smiled. It was harder than she thought especially now that she knew what the other woman looked like. The pain was still there. The anger was building up and she felt it overtaking her. If he cared enough he could see through her pain, and at that table at that moment when she sat down to lunch, she could see it. She wished there was a way out- a simpler way and not divorce. She couldn’t picture leaving him-not yet. She wanted to cry but the tears did not oblige. She would be his wife, and take good care of him. He would look good and stay healthy, in that time her heart would have healed or not. She looked at the water drain into the sink and sighed. Her life was meaningless now-she wanted this to end, but the pain was knowing that he was hurting more than her. She applied some lip gloss and walked out of the room.
She took the arm he offered and they walked out of the restaurant. She had a smile on her face and he had a stern look. She was happy and he was defensive. She was glad he did not have his car then, because one of the few things she loved was how well he drove. She was slow and most of the time she simply listened to music and forgot all the rules.
He took the lane heading to their home and sighed.
She stared out the window dreaming of what was best. It was ironical that people often stared out of their vehicles. She did not know which one was worse owning a car or staring at pedestrians from your car. She stared at the cars near them and those that passed them by and sighed.
“I asked Sheila to get me her picture.”
“Who’s picture?”
“The girl you slept with.”
“O…”
“Is that all you’ll say Mark?”
“You must have your reasons Beryl.”
“I wanted to see who made you forget me, and I must admit that she is very beautiful Mark. You went for someone prettier than your wife.”
“Where is the picture?”
“Inside my purse, you can look at her again and reminisce on the good time you had.”
“It was a mistake Beryl. I messed up big time and I am sorry, God I wish I could go back and change all this but…”
“A mistake is spelling my name wrong or dialing an extra digit but sleeping with another woman when your wife is waiting for you at home and then lying to her the next morning is not a mistake it’s beyond that and no matter how hard I try I cannot do t
his! I cannot look at you and stay near you without wanting to choke you or ask you why! Am I doing something wrong? Am I not good enough and how many women have you slept with Mark? Will they be stopping me by the road to tell me of how awesome you were with them? Or will I hear from my friends that my husband is sleeping around with some stripper from God knows where who wears some imitation of clothes, or yeah…will you wait for me to ask you who you did this time or that time? I am tired Mark.”
“Beryl…”
“Why?”
“I was drunk and stupid and I am sorry love, I”
“Don’t even utter that word Mark, because if you knew what love is you would have come home to me however drunk you were. I am your wife! I am the one who takes care of you and you simply choose some strange woman and to top it off you pay her? So now that you can buy sex, what else are you going to buy? Friends, lies, time, respect, love?”
“Beryl…”
“I cannot do this Mark, I want a divorce.”
“Beryl…” He watched as her shoulders shook and her head hung low…those tears pour down her cheeks as the air left the car. He uttered a few words, most of them curses. She did not want him to touch or talk to her but he couldn’t help it. He pulled over and with one thought he scooped her in an embrace and she cried. She cried and yelled and cursed at him and he felt this close to his heart. He was a fool and was madly in love with her. They could call him a sissy or say he was mad, but he loved Beryl. He wanted a family with her and he would make things right. Her words cut right through him ‘I want a divorce.’ What would he do