She told him that one of her favorite cousins was critically ill, yet he continued to fold his clothes on their bed and said, nonchalantly, “I didn’t know she was sick. Sorry to hear that.” Another man would have immediately put the clothes down and swept her up in his arms so that she could be comforted. But not him. It’s never him.
She took a deep breath, retreated to her office, closed the door and screamed silently in frustration. There is no love in the bedroom and passion died a swift and immediate death years ago or perhaps it was merely a figment of her imagination to begin with.
He made a conscious decision to stop loving her after she defended herself through law enforcement when the bullying became excessive. As usual, the topic of money always set it off. Money and his blatant insecurity.
She was “ghosted” — a phenomena, according to the New York Times, where a lover leaves without saying goodbye. His toxic physical presence remained and so she was clueless. It would have been an inconvenient truth to tell her that he no longer loved her. In fact, despised her because he could no longer control her. However, two paychecks were far better than one and so they became fiscal roommates and he had discretionary cash to buy electronic toys and exhibit conspicuous consumption while she quietly saved her money for future dreams that exceeded his narrow expectations.
It took five years before she realized that he was not impotent – he just didn’t love her. And yet the mere mention of divorce evoked Biblical scriptures that rolled off his tongue to give her the impression that being a wife was synonymous with perpetual servitude and discontent.
What does a woman need? Something she’ll never have. Love doesn’t live here anymore.