My Beautiful Wife

She is beautiful and is easily the envy of any woman on the planet. She is responsible, intelligent, and independent. It's a wonder how she fell in love with someone like me. I fall below average in terms of physical appearances. I'm good at what I do at work, but I am not as smart as any of her coworkers. She contributes to most of our finances while I take care of the kids and the house mostly.

She is beautiful but naïve and trusting to a fault. That was how she disappeared. I was told that it was a kidnapping case. I should have been with her but even after her disappearance, I didn't make any effort to bring her back. I am not strong or brave enough. I lied to our children that their mother was away on an extended trip. I had to rely on the police and I waited 6 months before I heard anything from them.

They found my wife homeless on the other side of the city. From what I was told, she successfully escaped 2 months ago but refused to return home much to my surprise. Fortunately, I was assured of her safety until she wants to come back home. I had the freedom to come to her, but it took me a week before I did. I feared the rejection. I thought I'd be running out the door, but I didn't. I was scared that she may not want to be with me anymore. It's understandable, I didn't come after her when she disappeared. Would she want to return to a coward like me?

It was when I picked up our two children from school that I realized, it wasn't about me. It was about us and our family. Our children need a mother and I need my wife, the woman I love.

I go to the other side of the city and I see my wife sitting on the ground by the harbour, clearly cold. She is battered, bruised and her eyes are bloodshot. Her shivering figure has gone thin and her bony hands rub against her shoulder in a fruitless attempt to warm herself. I walk over to her and I can barely hold back my tears. She looks surprised to see me but decides to look to toward the sea, ignoring me. I come close and I crouch down to her eye-level.

"Let's go home," I say quietly.

"I don't know you. I am nothing to you." She replies harshly. I notice the quiver in her voice.

"You're everything to me. You're my wife." I reply as I move to stroke her cheek. She flinches but does not back away.

"You do not have an ugly, broken and stupid slut for a wife. I am nothing to you. Leave... Please..." She replies. At this moment, I break down crying and I embrace her.

I say nothing. I can't say anything. I simply cry on her shoulder and shake uncontrollably. She, in turn, starts crying and returns my embrace, clinging tighter around my shoulders.

The fire in her eyes has dimmed but has not completely disappeared. She is broken and ashamed. Nevertheless, I still love her.

"I love you... I love you..." I whisper in between sobs. I need her to know that. She is still mine and I am still hers. In as much as I want judgment upon those who did this to her, right now, I just want her home. I want her to know that she is still my wife. My beautiful, beautiful wife.