It is odd that 2 months have passed since I learned about Charles. It is odd to know a deep secret about someone that changes your whole perception of them, despite how they act or what they say. Charles is still solicitous, methodical, kind in a distracted way. He bought me a new diamond bracelet and I can’t help but wonder if SHE has one too.
Does she look like me? Or is she my exact opposite? Does she know he’s married? Does she care? Who is Miriam Desantro? For that matter, who is Charles Blacksworth? I watch him when he doesn’t see me. I listen to his breath as he sleeps beside me, always on his side, never touching.
I drank too much at dinner and started crying, out of the blue, no apparent reason. But there is a reason, a big ridiculous one that smells of betrayal. Why have I not confronted him yet? Why do I continue to accept monthly reports from Lester Conroy? Why? Why? WHY? Perhaps because I am afraid Charles will make a choice and the choice will not be me. Four days a month is not so bad. What about the men with other habits; drinking, gambling, serial cheating?
Can I not stomach 72 hours a month in exchange for all that surrounds me? Could this not be the offshoot of Charles’s grief over losing his sister that has propelled him to act in such a rash and uncaring manner? No, that last is untrue, Charles is not uncaring. Were he so, he would not travel to a different state for his liaison. Were he uncaring, he would lack the consistency of pattern. 4 days a month. Hardly the pattern of a grand romance.
This will pass. In 6 months, Miriam Desantro will be no more than a foggy, if unpleasant, reminder that marriage is not always easy, that there are times when one must “suffer in silence”, that all long-standing marriages encounter an occasional detour. And it is determination and will and the REFUSAL to accept defeat that enables one to find the road again.
And who is more determined and willful than ME? Hah. Let that whore have him for 72 hours a month, however fleeting. Let her enjoy what she will never have—my husband.
I shall close this for now as I’ve no need for further commentary. Soon life will be normal again.