/Interlude/

It’s almost three a.m. and I am in my office threading beads for jewelry for my friend’s wedding.

The radio is on at a muted volume, providing a soothing background to my labor. My husband is sitting in front of me in his swivel chair reading the morning papers from his tablet computer. I watch him during intervals of threading, surprised that he could still take my breath away after all these years of being together.

He looks up to smile at me. I stand up, stop my beading and stand behind him, rubbing his shoulders.

This is an unusually early start for us. I whisper, “I’m so glad we worked out.”

He kisses me, his right hand creeping up beneath my silk robe.

Then he sits me on the molave table, standing in between my bent legs.

“Wanna finish this in the bedroom?” he inquires.

“Bedroom? What’s wrong with the office?” I ask.

Catharsis

I hope for his sake this was not another one of his pranks.

I cried earlier that day because I saw him kissing another man.

It hurt.

I couldn’t tell you how much it hurt except that it felt like my soul was being squeezed out of my body.

It even came to a point when I stopped fighting him every time something like this happened.

I would ask him, are you gay?

He would say he’s not when clearly he is.


I put up with his crap since we were in college.

I think it felt like I owed him something for awakening me to the wonders of being in a relationship.

But when he came back from Europe he changed.

Perhaps he was like a tiger that got its first taste of blood and never looked back.

He got a taste of men in Europe and now he can’t kick the habit.

Sometimes I ask him, why do you stay with me?

He would answer, “I love you more than I could ever love anyone.”

And that would hurt even more because we both know it’s a big fat lie.

We even came to the point where we planned to get married.

He’d bug me about our plans every day.

But it didn’t feel right, this planning to be with him for the rest of my life.

He was incapable of fidelity, but that was the deal breaker for me.

One day I gathered up enough courage to break up with him.

I spoke with him, was candid about everything that bothered me about being with him.

He told me I can’t leave him, can’t just throw away all that time we were together.

I told him, it’s over.

There’s nothing he can say to change my mind.

He threw a hissy fit.

He was always such a drama queen.

I said goodbye.

I changed numbers and deleted mutual friends from my contacts list.

I didn’t want to see him ever again.

But I did see him again, a few years later.

It was a surprise, him not being able to evoke any emotion in me.

I was free.

Confession

I’m a good listener, I told him.

Still, there was apprehension in his face. I asked: do you really believe in Confession? This could all be between God and you, I assured him. Whatever you believe would be just fine.

We were sitting face to face, knees touching.

He is a handsome man with fine features and kind eyes and neat hair. My heart melted just witnessing the agony in his face. I reached out to touch his shoulder. He caught my hand and held my palm to his cheek. Tears rolled down our eyes.

It was the first time I’ve seen him in all my years the first female pastor of my Protestant church here in this city. But something about him felt familiar, as if I knew him in a past life.

“Would it be so weird if I asked you to marry me now?” he asked in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

Then he poured it out, how he stalked me in the past year after attending a service I presided over in his side of town. He said he’d been burned badly by dating and didn’t want to commit until he was sure he wanted to be in a relationship with another woman.

I laughed, wiping my tears as he proceeded with his story with much uncertainty. By rights I should be mad but he felt so real, it felt like this was real I couldn’t get up enough energy to get mad at him.

“Don’t you think marriage would be jumping the gun a bit? Don’t I get a chance to know you as well?” I asked half-jokingly. It was scary that I did want to marry him then and there!