This Was Supposed to Be Forever

A short-story about a man in a unhappy marriage.

It had been another exhausting day for Micheal. His work consisted of seeing a new emotionally unstable patient every hour or so.The entire day he got paid to listen to their trivial problems and give them solutions, yet he couldn't even fix his own problems. At home he had a chronically unhappy wife, a yapping dog, and a six month old daughter who cried all through the night with no break. He never wanted to go home, but never wanted to stay at work. He never once thought of an affair, for he loved his wife. Often he spent the night sitting in a bar, watching young men and young women flirt, wondering what the hell had happened to his life.

As he drove home from the bar tonight he was especially tired and ready to fall asleep. He had had a couple shots of whiskey on an empty stomach, and had called it a night a few hours before he usually did.Turning into his driveway he stumbled out of the car and grabbed his suitcase. He made his way to the front door of his two-story house in his nice suburban neighborhood. Technically, he had all he had ever asked for: a house, a family, and money; yet he felt empty and alone.

He turned the key in the lock and opened the door. The house was silent but the stereo from upstairs. His baby girl, Erica, must have finally fallen asleep for a little bit, and he was happy to have made it back while she was taking a nap. He was already beginning to feel a headache coming on and was not in the mood to hear her cry.

As he made his way upstairs he thought of all he had to do before going to bed: shower, shave, sit out his suit for tomorow. Everything seemed tedious, and he wondered what he might be able to leave out.

The closer he got to he and his wifes' bedroom door the louder the music became. It aggravated him immediately, for it would definately wake Erica up. He reached for the doorknob and opened it quickly, and to his horror he saw a sight he had never expected.

"What the hell?!"

His wife looked up from underneath the man's body. The man's head wipped around quickly, both faces red embarassed. Micheal threw his suitcase down and the paper fell out. He had forgotten to zip it up all the way, but he barely noticed. All he noticed was the scene playing in front of him.

"Babe, it's not what you think", was all she said as the man got up quickly, dressing himself and muttering apologies. As he did this, his wife just covered her body with their bedsheets. "I promise it'll never happen again".

"Get out of my bed", Micheal shouted once the man had left.

She looked annoyed. "Now this is my bed, too".

He punched a wall and she quickly got up, calling him every dirty name in the book. "Your f*****g drunk", she muttered on her way out, "I'll come back once your sober". He heard her footsteps on the staircase and slammed the door once she was downstairs.

His heartbeat was thumping and his hands shook. He thought of all he had put together for her. He had made it so she could live the American dream: she didn't have to work, she got to live in a expansive suburban home, and he had even blessed her with a child. He punched the wall again, tears welling in his eyes. He had taken vows with her, to love her forever, and this was how he was repaid.

He stepped into the bathroom and looked into the mirror, unsure where to go from here. He knew she was unhappy, but he never suspected this. He was a therapist for God sake, why couldn't she talk to him about it? As he began running the water for his shower he heard Erica's bloodcurdling cry from downstairs and it cut through his soul.

"What am I going to do?" he asked himself. He thought this would be forever, but he knew he couldn't go on with his marriage and life as if this had never happened. As he showered he wondered about divorce and what would happen to Erica if they couldn't work this out. He felt the urge to cry again, thinking to himself, "This was supposed to be forever".

 

He decided his wife would move out the next day, and if she wanted, they would pursue therapy. If not, well, life doesn't always have happy endings.