Chapter 8 Diary Secrets

"Dear Diary,

I don't think I can bear any more. When I said my vows, I declared before God that I would stand by this man, for better or for worse. I laugh with no mirth now when I see however that despite how bad I thought things were when we were dating, they have gotten worse.

Oh, how I abhor that woman! But if I am honest with myself, it is not her that I hate but the fact that her mere presence reminds me of how poorly I am to attend to my OWN husband. God help me!

My heart is weak & I seek to despise the one person who seems to know how to pull my husband out of his shell when he is upset. What am I meant to do when he wakes up and leaves for work without so much as a word, only to return home, shift food around on his plate, watch television, bathe then sleep?

God forbid, I make any motion to touch him, embrace him, and seduce him. His brow furrows with distrust and his lips curl with disgust. Surely, it cannot get worse than this?

As I write this, I can feel him looking at me with those eyes. The very eyes that used to undress me, caress me, make me feel like I was the only other person in the world...

Dear God! The intensity of the glare alone makes me feel like a $5 whore! Dammit!

A tear fell from my eyes. I do not know how I will explain it. I asked him if he was happy earlier, to sound out his true feelings. He looked at me blankly before asking if I was unhappy.

Try as I may, he wouldn't answer my question. He does not see that I know what that look that they give one another means. I cannot believe I seduced myself into believing that he really wanted me and my children with him.

Damn it! The boys. What have I done?!

To think that I begged, pushed, pleaded that he let them come live with us. He pretends for them.

But sometimes he forgets to pretend and is short with them or ignores their attempts to make him proud. He is a good father. I don't say that to soften his bad behaviour towards my boys sometimes.

He assured me when we first began to date that the late nights would last only for four or five years and then everything would settle down.

What a fool I was to want to believe that it, no, he, would change; when the half-decade was through!

Years later, I still find myself dozing on the couch waiting for him to return. :-)When he's in a good mood he warms his supper, eats, does his dishes, picks me up, and takes me to bed.

When he can't be bothered, I wake up to find a blanket over me and my husband in bed, snoring, fast asleep. Is this the rest of my life? I shudder to think so. I pray that this ends well.

It has been a year since the boys joined us and although it was tough for the boys to adjust to having two parents in one home they are now doing remarkably well.

Young Jeff whom Troy continues to call Jeffrey Matthew is a soft sun on a cool winter morning.

Michael is a joy. His resolve reminds me of a younger Troy. My prayer is that whichever choice I come to it will be in the best interests of the boys and myself.

The way her hand lingers on his forearm, the way she looks at the boys, I expect her one day to ask the boys if they wouldn't rather have her as a mother.

Mark my words, it shall come to pass. My heart can't stand the thought of her nude. Underneath him, doing things I long to do to him...I'm tired & feeling unwell.

Too many thoughts of her and not enough hope in my heart to dispel my cautionary mindset.

Good night, blessings and favour upon & to the Most High. <3, A :-p"

Brow furrowed Troy closed the diary. He had a pretty good idea of whom his wife was referring to. Of all his ex-girlfriends, he'd kept one as a friend & it was biting at his marriage.

He'd always known that the two had tension between them. But surely after he'd told his friend to tone it down things had changed between them?'

Pausing to think about it Troy realized that his wife only murmured whenever he asked how her friendship with his ex was going. Sitting up straighter in their bed it dawned on him that his wife didn't let his friend near the boys or take them out alone.

'Fuck! How could he have missed his wife's jealousy when it was plain as day? No wonder she always seemed upset whenever he mentioned his friend's name and downright rude when she came over.'

Shaking his head at his own folly he pulled the sheets away from his legs so he could slip out of bed. As the cool air hit his body he stretched and headed to their bathroom and headed to their bathroom. Walking through the door he noticed his wife didn't have any shaving sticks.

Another frown flashed across his face. He'd never known her to slack from her beauty regimen. He paused at her sink to see what else she needed to stock on.

To his surprise, he saw an opened pack of morning-after pills. Confusion clouded his rational mind. Anger bubbled up within him.

He didn't need it but had to know what the hell she was doing with morning afters as a pregnant, married woman. 'Why couldn't things be simple?' he thought as he turned on the hot water tap of the shower.

As he stepped under the hot steamy water and turned the cold water tap on his eyes passed over the tub. A smile rose to his lips as an image of his wife taking a bath oblivious to his hungry eyes, hung within view of his mind's eye.

He remembered that day clearly, she'd woken up early and surprised him with breakfast in bed. He'd opted to share it which resulted in an intense love-making session that had left his knees weak, and his heart exposed.

Every time she'd mentioned getting up his body had protested. By the time 6:30 had snuck up on them, he'd had to force his limbs to do his bidding.

After waking up the boys she'd hurriedly run her bath and stripped. Her naked figure as she leaned over the tub to check the water temperature had undone the work of the cold shower he'd elected to take.

Troy grabbed his shower gel as the events of that morning continued in his mind. As he reached to wash his stomach, he realized he was fully aroused, and his wife was nowhere in sight.