Chapter 2: Seeing Change

She watched as he did his daily routine that he had done for nine long years. There were things that now were missing. Every day when he came in from work, he would come to the kitchen give her a kiss and put his coffee cup on the cabinet. Then he would take off his boots in the living room and change into his loafing shorts. After that he would get online and check his football sites. That usually took about an hour. Once he was done with that, he would watch his sports channels on football of course and sometimes he would play the play station 3. Most of the time when dinner was done she would bring his plate to him in the living room. When they first got together this routine bothered her. There was no interest in spending time with her and the kids. She forced herself through years of being satisfied with this. He worked and brought home a check. They never fought and things were peaceful between the two of them. He never went out or anything and he was good to her and the kids. Judging by her past, she felt lucky to have him and she was deeply in love with him. So that is what she used to get past the loneliness of his routine.

Standing here now she noticed some changes. He no longer brought his cup to the kitchen but instead he set it on the table by the door. Sometimes he would come to the door and say he was home and ask when dinner would be ready. Then he would go back into the living room and do the routine. No longer was there that sweet kiss on her lips that made her day so much better. If there was a time that he would come to her, he would grope her instead. She hated that. What happened to a comforting hug and a gentle kiss? There were no more moments where he simply held her. For the most part, he touched her only if he wanted to have sex. No longer was it considered love making. All the emotion had left on that and she would cry into the night and despise herself for it. Things had changed. She tried to gain his attention. She would fix her hair and makeup; sometimes she would even wear a dress for him. Something simple and sexy, but he would raise his eyebrow at her and ask where she went that day all dressed up. He never stated whether he liked it or not.

Things around the house that should have been his place to fix went undone. His reasons were that he hated this house and wanted to move. So he simply would do nothing unless Arial threw a fit or did it herself. By the time the day came to an end she was exhausted and depressed. She hated to look at him because it hurt knowing that what little of him that she had was drifting away. She had stopped talking to him over a year ago. No longer did she feel the desire to tell him how much it hurt seeing her mother go the way she was. No longer did she tell him of her fear that when she called that she would not be remembered by the beautiful woman who made her who she was. She kept her pain of it all to herself. Telling him worked for her until she realized he simply had never even given her his ear. She never asked him to talk with her about things, because she knew that he was not one to do that. She had relied on him just listening to her get things off her chest. She had been blind all those years when he started confronting her on things she had already told him. He swore she never did and that she was hiding things from him.

Arial had stopped telling him about the kids also. She never spoke of their grades or summer school. If they had a bad day at school she kept it to herself. She never showed him their son's six awards that he had gotten. He never questioned if they even passed or failed this year. At times she would stand and look at their front door, where their one son had done a list of things to do with Dad. The list had been on the door for over two months and he knew but never bothered to do anything on the list. It broke her heart because it was something that was rare for her son to do; he rather be alone. He was older now and had seen fathers spending time with their sons. It was expected, it was routine, and so her son decided that should be the case here. She had begged her husband to do some of the things. She knew that eventual their son would take the list down and the chance would never happen again. A few days ago she stood in front of the door and looked at the bare spot of where the list had once hung. It was gone, and she knew that the chance he had offered was gone also

For years they were limited on socializing. There was never company over and they never went to friend's houses. Things got better and she started inviting company over, hoping that it would help him. Maybe that was what he needed. She realized how much she missed having friends and such. She loved the weekends they had. Then the fights started. He would get angry and say hateful things to her. He would stomp upstairs to get dressed, saying he was going out. Arial would beg him to stay, crying and asking why he was leaving. Sometimes the fights never made sense. They seemed to just appear out of the blue and there were times where he would throw or kick things. Flashbacks of previous relationships had her backing away in fear. Sometimes the anger in his eyes, made her flinch and want to cover her face in reaction. He had never done this before and she could not get the past out of her mind. The screams and accusations, the fists, it all came back, and the comfort,safeness she had felt with him left her. So she stopped inviting company over, because he did these things more when they were here. It did not matter who the company was. It did not matter where they were, if they were out. She hated being around others because it was those times that he did these things. Their friends backed away and stopped coming over. He kept telling her that he did not want to share her time with anyone else. So the weekends became just him, her and the kids. She had done it for him and he had not wanted it.

Arial was sure that he wanted to spend time with her and the kids, but he just ignored them as he did before, but now he had started going over to the neighbors. Each night by the time the kids went to bed, and he got ready for bed, he would stand over her shoulder and wait for her to go up with him. All evening he never noticed her or spoke to her and now would demand she go with him. When she did, he would go for a quickie, roll over, go to sleep and she was left with a broken heart, crying her own self to sleep. She felt like his whore and not his wife anymore. The more time that passed the more she hated how things changed. She was no longer his wife; she was his maid, his childcare, and his whore. What kind of marriage was this? Was there ever any love there, if so where in the hell did it go?