It was only a few minutes after my wife's scream that she came down into the kitchen looking like a float rejected by the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. I didn't expect such a quick turn around and it actually disturbed me that she wasn't a raving maniac, but she came into the kitchen with an absolute look of defeat on her face. Now I'm worried I went too far. If she came down with a renewed sense of "I'm gonna get you for this motherfucker" I know I still had a wife and she was up for the fight.
I know that sounds crazy to all of you, but you have to know that if someone quits fighting for something then that person no longer cares. I wanted a wife who wanted to fight, for herself, for me and for our marriage. But instead she sat across from me at the kitchen table looking down at her feet.
I knew I had to get her involved again. So I got up and poured her a cup of coffee setting in front of her still wary about her throwing right back in my face; maybe she was playing possum. Instead she gingerly picked it up and took a sip like any other day. Now I was starting to get scared. Just in case I stood between her and the carving knives.
"Thank You honey. The coffee tastes great."
"You're welcome. Are you OK? Do you want me to pack up and leave?"
Her head snapped up looking at me with tears running down her face, "Please God no! I can't live without you. Don't leave me please!" as she threw herself at me again just like last night. I held her tightly talking quietly telling her I would stay. Her crying eventually subsided as I guided us both back to the kitchen table with her sitting on my lap.
"So what happened? A few minutes ago you screamed like a banshee calling me a 'fucking bastard' and know you're acting like your cat just died."
"To be honest, a few minutes ago I had the thought of strapping you down to the bed and ass raping you with the largest dildo I could find." The smile on her face scared me. "But if we don't stop now, we won't have a marriage. I really don't want to fight anymore and after the sex last night, I remembered how you and I matched up in that department. It's been a long time since we have had a sex life and I want it back." She took another sip of coffee, "So what do we do now?" she asked.
I placed a bottle of rinse treatment for her hair on the table in front of her, "First you go upstairs and rinse that crap out of your hair and get your self back to the beautiful looking woman I have loved for so many years. Then we go out to breakfast and talk."
"You mean this mess will rinse right out?"
"Of course. It's essentially nothing more than a strong water color paint. You didn't think I would do anything like this permanently and humiliate you, do you?"
She nodded her head as a new round of tears fell, "After everything I did to you, yes because I know I deserved it."
"Yes, you did deserve it. But we both know this all has to end. This is me ending it on my end. Do you promise me it has stopped on your end?" Again she pulled herself into burying her head into my neck as she nodded. "OK then. Go upstairs and take care of yourself." She gave me a deep hard kiss on the lips, told me she loved me and went up to the shower.
When she came back down she was dressed looking as beautiful as ever smiling hesitantly. She walked over to me, "Thank You for giving me my hair back and I promise, I will make it all up to you."
"How about we start with breakfast and make it up to each other?"
"OK, let's start with that."
It was a short drive to the restaurant. We both had the morning special. The meal proceeded quietly both of us afraid to start the conversation. It's a hell of a thought when you discover you're afraid to talk to your spouse, "Oh hell honey. What happened to us? We're sitting here scared to talk to each other. Why?"
Her eyes agreed, "Maybe we're afraid of making things worse." As tears fell down her face again, "I'm afraid you're gonna leave me. After I super glued your penis to your belly, I thought it might stop your drinking. Face it honey, you hit the bar pretty damn hard there for a while. Yes, you didn't come home drunk, but you went out every night for a week straight while I was at home worrying about you. After the first blow up things were good for a few weeks then when you out again, got stumbling ass drunk and took that taxi home. I had to act the only way I knew how. It helped my dad so I hoped it would help you.
"What do you mean it helped your dad?"
"I've never told you because by the time you and I met my dad no longer abused alcohol. But my dad had a drinking problem for a long time. My mom made multiple attempts to get him to quit, but nothing worked. The last thing she tried was super gluing his penis to his belly. His experience with getting himself unglued was very unpleasant. It knocked some sense into him and he went to rehab. All I wanted to do was to get you to stop drinking."
"If you're that afraid of alcohol abuse why did you go drinking with the girls and why the hen party?"
"The drinking was guilt. Pure and simple guilt. I knew I pushed things too far when you moved out of our bed and refused to talk to me. I self medicated and tried to deaden the pain. I was wrong, way wrong. The hen party I have no excuse for. After you went to the hospital and why, it spread like wild fire and one of our friends heard about it. That friend call others and they all came over to laugh at you with me but as soon as you came home it all ended, badly."