When I got home that night as my wife served dinner, I held
her hand and said, I’ve got something to tell you. She sat down and ate
quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes.
Suddenly I didn’t know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know
what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised the topic calmly.
She didn’t seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked
me softly, why? I avoided her question.
This made her angry. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, you are
not a man! That night, we didn’t talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew
she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly
give her a satisfactory answer; she had lost my heart to Jane. I didn’t love
her anymore. I just pitied her!
With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement
which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my
company. She glanced at it and then tore
it into pieces. The woman who had spent ten years of her life with me had
become a stranger. I felt sorry for her wasted time, resources and energy but I
could not take back what I had said for I loved Jane so dearly. Finally she
cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her
cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me
for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer now.
The next day, I came back home very late and found her
writing something at the table. I didn’t have supper but went straight to sleep
and fell asleep very fast because I was tired after an eventful day with
Jane. When I woke up, she was still
there at the table writing. I just did not care so I turned over and was asleep
again.
In the morning she presented her divorce conditions. She didn’t want anything from me, but needed
a month’s notice before the divorce. She requested that in that one month, we
both try to live as normal a life as possible. Her reason for this conditions
were simple. Our son had his exams in a
month’s time and she didn’t want to disrupt him with our broken marriage.
This was agreeable to me. But she had something more, she
asked me to recall how I had carried her into out bridal room on our wedding
day. She requested that every day for
the month’s duration I carry her out of our bedroom to the front door ever
morning. I thought she was going crazy. Just to make our last days together bearable
I accepted her odd request.
I told Jane about my wife’s divorce conditions. She laughed
loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she applies, she has to
face the divorce, she said scornfully.
My wife and I hadn’t had any body contact since my divorce
intention was explicitly expressed. So when I carried her out on the first day,
we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is holding mommy in
his arms. His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting
room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She
closed her eyes and said softly; don’t tell our son about the divorce. I
nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to
wait for the bus to work. I drove alone to the office.
On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She
leaned on my chest. I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that
I hadn’t looked at this woman carefully for a long time. I realized she was not
young any more. There were fine wrinkles on her face, her hair was graying! Our
marriage had taken its toll on her. For a minute I wondered what I had done to
her.
On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a sense of
intimacy returning. This was the woman who had given ten years of her life to
me. On the fifth and sixth day, I
realized that our sense of intimacy was growing again. I didn’t tell Jane about
this. It became easier to carry her as the month slipped by. Perhaps the
everyday workout made me stronger.
She was choosing what to wear one morning. She tried on
quite a few dresses but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, all my
dresses have grown bigger. I suddenly realized that she had grown so thin, that
was the reason why I could carry her more easily. Suddenly it hit me. She had buried so much
pain and bitterness in her heart. Subconsciously I reached out and touched her
head.
Our son came in at the moment and said, Dad, it’s time to
carry mom out. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had become an
essential part of his life. My wife gestured to our son to come closer and
hugged him tightly. I turned my face away because I was afraid I might change
my mind at this last-minute. I then held her in my arms, walking from the
bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck
softly and naturally. I held her body tightly, it was just like our wedding
day.
But her much lighter weight made me sad. On the last day,
when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to
school. I held her tightly and said, I hadn’t noticed that our life lacked
intimacy. I drove to office and jumped
out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would
make me change my mind. I walked
upstairs. Jane opened the door and I said to her, Sorry, Jane, I do not want
the divorce anymore.
She looked at me, astonished, and then touched my forehead.
Do you have a fever? She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Jane, I
said, I won’t divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I
didn’t value the details of our lives, not because we didn’t love each other
anymore. Now I realize that since I carried her into my home on our wedding day
I am supposed to hold her until death do us apart.
Jane seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and
then slammed the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove
away. At the floral shop on the way, I
ordered a bouquet of flowers for my wife. The sales girl asked me what to write
on the card. I smiled and wrote, “I’ll carry you out every morning until death
do us apart”.
That evening I arrived home, flowers in my hands, a smile on
my face, I run up stairs, only to find my wife in the bed – dead.
My wife had been fighting cancer for months and I was so
busy with Jane to even notice. She knew that she would die soon and she wanted
to save me from the whatever negative reaction from our son, in case we push
through with the divorce. At least, in the eyes of our son— I’m a loving
husband.
Moral: The small details of your lives are what really
matter in a relationship. It is not the mansion, the car, property, the money
in the bank. These create an environment conducive for happiness but cannot give
happiness in themselves. So find time to be your spouse’s friend and do those
little things for each other that build intimacy. And have a real happy
marriage.
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