Midnight lovestory

Point of no return

Summary : A slightly different point of view in happiness, love, heartbreak and forced decisions.

Point of no return

I'm a wife. A wife which obviously means I have a spouse. A husband to be correct. We have a child too. A gorgeous baby boy with the most beautiful eyes, the most adorable nose, cutest little toes and smoothest little fingers. My husband – my husband loves him just as much as I do, I know he does, he has just had.. issues for awhile. Our son, he's fifteen months old now and for the past three months my husband has been, well he's been mourning, I guess you could say. You see, we don't have a traditional marriage. Or maybe more like - I know it's not traditional. My husband doesn't know that I know this, of course. We married out of comfort, not love per se. We love each other, of course we do, but not as husband and wife. Again – my husband doesn't know that I know. We were high school sweethearts, were each other's first of everything (almost) and we grew comfortable together. I know I can't see myself with anybody but him. We married because we were comfortable together and we created an amazing little human because we were comfortable together. Nine months ago, when our son was only six months old, I realized my husband wasn't quite all that faithful to me. I'm not entirely sure when the affair started but I do now when it ended – three months ago. At first I thought it was our newborn son that made him different, happier, more at peace with himself. But then. Then I saw them together. I should have been more surprised, more shocked, more hurt, felt disgusted but I honestly felt. The same as always. No changed feelings. All I could think was that whatever person who could transform my husband from a shell of his younger self into someone who laughed and joked and liked his life, well they deserved to keep this harmless little secret. I was afraid, for a short while, that he'd leave us; file for a divorce and just disappear. Because he got more and more distant, more and more guilt-ridden but still more and more at ease with this newfound happiness. I had my suspicion that it was an affair, especially when he started wearing this self-loathing look every time he looked at our baby son. But I didn't understand just how much he was actually feeling, smitten almost, until I saw it in his eyes and in the soft wrinkles by his eyes and his mouth. He was in love. It was crystal clear; he was in love. More than he'd ever been with me. And he was a whole new man; a man I'd never met before so if he was going to leave us, at least he'd be happier than he'd ever been before. And sometimes happiness means to be happy for others.

But then everything changed, from one day to the other. He was suddenly worse than before the affair; like the black shadow of his previous self, a ghost with an indifference about everything – everything except our little Noah. Noah, his little saving grace, his straw in the ocean, his ray of sunshine in pure darkness. He'd been dumped, he'd been side-cast, he'd been left behind, I soon realized. Straight from cloud nine with smiles and happiness I'd never seen before to an empty, heartbroken man with no will to live except for the love to his son. As the months passed, I saw his eyes awaken yet again, not with the same intensity as before the break but with a will to go on, at least. His eyes, which before the entire affair shone with at least comfort and content for our life, now shines with a carelessness for everything except Noah, and partly me. It's obvious he was forced to choose this life but he's slowly coming to terms with his life as it unfolds now, with Noah in centre. You'd think it hurt me, wouldn't you? It'd be the normal thing to feel, knowing stuff like that. But I'm not hurt; I don't care enough to care for a divorce but I love him enough to want him to be happy. Because he's not – happy. His eyes aren't shining, he's smiles aren't dazzling and his persona isn't radiating anymore but he's dealing. It's like he's reached point of no return - he got a taste of love but now everything else just feels tasteless.

I hope he finds love again, finds true happiness, and I hope I find something just remotely close to what he had. Because the look in his eyes when he was the happiest, that's something only happens in fairytales.

And I knew for certain fairytales do come true when I watched, back then, as he looked at the dark hair above the expensive suit of the man who caught his heart.

~~~~

a/n It's kind of a lead-up/build-up story for a new story I'm in the progress of writing. I hope I'll have the 'book' wrapped up in a couple of weeks and start posting under the name, "Eleven years in darkness".

This was an experiment of mine. I've felt like I've been stuck in the same way of writing for some time so I wanted to try something new, to stir up my writing style. I don't know if it's a totally new or just a little different from how I'm usually writing but I like the outcome, I honestly do.