In the six years that Ruth had been married to John, she uncovered parts of him that shocked her. As the years rolled by, the handsome man that was her husband gradually changed into something she never predicted. He became more distant, less loving, and less involved in her and their daughter's lives. She had tried many times to communicate with him but he would just brush off her words as though they didn't mean anything. He made her feel crazy for complaining and manipulated her into thinking she was the one with the problem. The only thing she hadn't been able to do, was catch him cheating. Even though he claimed he wasn't, she knew he was. Her intuition was not lying to her.
But in all of this, Ruth loved him. She loved him so much she believed she was going to die from it. It didn't matter how he treated her as long as he still chose her at the end of the day. This was the reason she would never leave him. It wasn't because of their four year old daughter Paris. That was a lie she told people. It was because she knew she loved him to death and it would take only death to make her leave him. She loved how she felt protected in his presence. She loved when he choked her. She loved when he buried himself in her ass even when it hurt. She loved when he tied her up. She loved when he cuddled her. She loved everything about this man, even his ugly sides.
As she watched her husband play with their daughter in front of the TV, she played in her mind how she was going to tell him what she had been planning to tell him.
'Just tell him!' An inner voice advised her. 'He is not going to kill you. He might only get angry. Just tell him.' The voice pressed.
"John..." She called him. He looked up from their daughter and at her face inquiringly. A smile danced on his lips. He was the most handsome thing Ruth had ever seen. Her heart leaped with love.
"What?" He began to twirl Paris's hair between his fingers softly. The girl giggled.
"Errmmm I was thinking... I was hoping that... I don't know but I felt..."
"Just say it, Ruth." He rolled his eyes at her as though he was used to this and could already tell what she wanted to say to him.
"I want us to sign up for therapy." She finally blurted.
This wasn't what he was expecting to hear, so he adjusted himself into a seat and dropped Paris on the floor, patted her head lovingly and faced his wife. "I don't understand."
She avoided his eyes. "I know it sounds crazy but I think it's the best for us right now."
"And why on earth do you think that?" He was not angry yet and she was thankful for that. "Aren't we having a fairly good marriage?"
"I'm not saying that. I'm just saying..." She stopped and collected her breath as she noticed she was talking too fast. "All I'm saying is that we have been in Nigeria for two years because of your contract with OGELC, and it is not until another one year your contract will expire. And it might be renewed because you are so good at what you do."
"So?" He remained calm.
"Since we have been in this country, a lot has changed. Maybe you don't realize it but we have grown too much apart. I don't know if it's the country or your work, but..."
"How?" He asked, rubbing his chin in a relaxed manner.
This was the problem. When he asked her to explain how things were bad, she always couldn't. This was his mechanism for brushing her off: asking how, because he knew she would not be able to articulate all their problems without sounding stupid to her own self. Even on days when she mentioned specific problems like distance and lack of communication, he always had a good defense to shut her up.
"It's hard to put into exact words but you know what I'm saying. Our marriage is falling apart and maybe therapy would help us pinpoint exactly why. I love you and I want this to work."
John placed a finger on his lips to hush her. "First of all your mother is a Nigerian. It's just your father that is American. So I don't get what the problem with Nigeria is because if there is anyone that is supposed to complain, it should be me who is purely white and American. The sun here is scorching. Their food burns the tongue. The atmosphere is generally tense and unsafe. But you have been here twice before we tied the knot. I'm surprised my working here is an issue for you. If I don't make money, how do we feed?"
"John, that's not my point." She corrected calmly. "Look at our daughter, John. Paris is just four years old. What kind of home would you want her to grow up in? If not for anything, our daughter should be the reason we should take therapy so that we can make great parents."
"Look at Paris." John picked up the young girl and tickled her. "Paris."
"Yes Daddy." The girl smiled widely at him.
John looked back at Ruth. "See, she is happy! And if you truly care about our daughter, you would know it's inappropriate to have this kind of conversation in front of her."
"Can we go inside our room then?"
"Ruth, we are fine. You don't expect a marriage to be perfect. We are humans." He said this without looking at her.
"John we are falling apart, don't you get it?!" She blurted out.
"There is something I've been thinking about telling you for a while now too." He said after a long silence.
"What?"
"I want a divorce." He said, still without looking at her.
Her heart rose up to her throat instantly.