Marriage Matters

Drenching rain all week and my wife required to stay late at work, some conference about a particularly problematic child, whether to have it taken from its family. A traumatic and demanding case, one of many, leaving exhaustion in its wake.

The plan being for my wife to finish up, take the train to a nearby station, then the bus home. Nine thirty on the clock, dark outside, rain still falling. A casserole on the hob, cooked by me during the afternoon, ready to be eaten any time.

Thinking about it, those buses won’t be running on time, it’s miserable out there, to hell with it, jump in the car, drive to the station, wait for her.

By chance arriving at the same time as a train, and my wife by chance on it. Watching her alight, umbrella up, descending the slippery rain-drenched steps. Near staggering with exhaustion, drained from the unending daily onslaught.

Her eyes lifting, a momentary puzzlement on seeing me, then a glowing sunshine smile, oh, no need to wait for a bus, a nice warm car instead, how wonderful. A cursory hug for me. Home, change into dry clothes, hot food, a glass of red wine.

Later, sleeping side by side, a spasm from her and sudden wakefulness. Night terrors. Reaching out my hand for hers, holding it, she clasping hard. My other hand rubbing her shoulder. She slowly relaxing, then sleeping again.

A heroic and lovely woman, guess I must do what I can in the ways that I can, just a shame it isn’t in all the ways that I need. Maybe you just have to accept marriage without the sex, detach the sex into a different compartment somehow.