The Light At The Very End Of The Tunnel

Peace Be Upon You

Firas

I could feel the sadness radiating from her. It was like her whole aura was consuming me. She wasn't howling with sobs. She looked as though she had no control whatsoever of the tears that kept spilling like speeding cars on a highway. I've seen my fair share of female tears. But never has anyone stirred me like this. It was as though we were connected by a buzzing electricity of feelings. I should stop staring. Because, as soon as our eyes met, she looked down and kept collecting her tears. Like pearls. Like her life depended on them.

'Peace be upon you, Mensah' I said calmly. As though noticing me for the first time, she let her hands fall to her laps. She turned on her stool. Wiped her tears and said

'Peace be upon you too' Her voice was cool. And for a reason I couldn't fathom, I wanted her to keep talking. Quite different from what I wanted, she looked at me instead. Really looked at me. From head to toe. It was as though she was sizing me up. And for the first time in a really long time, I felt self conscious. I cleared my throat. And as though I pulled her from her deep concentration, she looked away and looked at the center rug as though it was the most fascinating thing she had ever seen. She looked abashed. Which was appropriate because she was really staring. What was more, a faint almost nonexistent smile tugged the corners of her mouth. I became confused. Did her feelings have a switch. Because just a moment ago she was crying like all the sadness in the world were on her slender shoulders. Now she wanted to smile. Tears still clung to her overly long lashes. And her small nose was red. Her cheeks were flushed. It was my turn to stare. Her face was captivating. Not because I was a man looking at a beautiful woman. But you just had to look at it. It was like a painting. Like a picture. It wasn't overly slender. It had a softness to it. All the edges were defined and smoothe. Her eyes were wide apart. She had green eyes. No gray. I guess it was Hazel. I couldn't really tell. And her lips were full. Quick to smile. Quick to pout. She was slim. And a little tall for a woman anyway. She cleared her throat. And I almost jumped. She had a sense of humor then. Shaking my head, I tried to pull myself together. I am twenty seven. A seventeen year old girl was not going to make me squirm. Even if she was my wife. I had no intention of making this work. No matter how fascinating her nature was. She did after all married to get her hands on our so called...

'I did marry you for money' She stated. Could she read minds? She frowned. I could see her sadness returning. What was it with her.

'Why' I asked nonchalantly but was waiting with rapt attention.

'I needed it. And you wouldn't have given it me otherwise' She said. She was very blunt. It was almost rude. She did have a point though. So I decided to return the favor.

'Listen Mensah, don't expect anything out of this. I only agreed to make mother happy' I said slowly. Her expression didn't change at all. It was as though she was expecting to hear those exact words.

'How long? ' she asked coolly. She didn't have to elaborate.

'Two months. I leave for the army then. I would appreciate it if you didn't mention it to mother. She seems to think I'm retired or something' I said. She nodded twice.
And without preamble, her tears started falling again. She didn't hide her face. She let them fall this time. Without catching them. Something tugged at my heart. What was I supposed to do. She stood up carefully and headed for the bathroom leaving me utterly perplexed.

I slept on the huge couch while she took the bed. I could hear her crying well into the night. I wish she would stop. I felt like I had a broken heart. If she was so sad about it, why did she agree to it. Was she forced? What did she need the money for?  Who cried this much anyway?  It was like she was a breathing tank of tears. I couldn't remember ever crying. Ever. I just wasn't built for tears. My doctor once said, crying could heal. That it was an outlet to let hurtful feelings fade. I found myself hoping that the girl in my bed. My wife, was finding solace in her tears. And for the first time in years I was wallowing in someone else's Misery. Not mine.