My Wife, My Man?

Chapter Twenty-three

"If love is a sickness, patience is the remedy." An African Proverb

God loves you. More than you think. One day, you will believe this.

Those words resonated with Jack, even when he didn't want them to. He couldn't get them out of his head and, like the silence he chose to dwell in, they left him feeling restless.

He opened his eyes and stared at the patterned ceiling. That same restlessness had once again tackled him awake and forced him to experience the rising of the sun. It had been the same routine for the past three days. His mind replaying Marx's words, insomnia, lack of appetite and isolation had become a bunch of faithful companions. He couldn't help it; he was bottling too much in his heart and overthinking to function properly. If possible, he had become more annoyed and impatient, and this didn't go unnoticed. His behaviour raised eyebrows and questions of his well-being, which only Maggie could air. I'm fine, just stressed out about work. It had become a song he played on repeat but, as the days passed, he couldn't keep playing that same tune.

He couldn't keep pretending to be okay.

Jack exhaled noisily through his nostrils. Running his hands over his face, he directed his gaze at his sleeping wife. She snored softly in such a way that he could guess when the next sound would come. He couldn't stop himself from smiling a little. By now, he had gotten used to the melodious sound of her breathing. A few months of sharing a bed together was all he needed to sleep peacefully through the noise.

The muscles on Perli's face contracted slowly, and soon, her eyes were lazily opening. It was as if she had sensed his stare. She met his eyes with a slight confusion while her lips rested with a tired smile. "Good morning." Her voice sounded rusty. She cleared her throat. "How are you?"

Jack only stared at her, unable to return a smile. He felt tempted to say fine; lie about his well-being as he had been and that would have ended their conversation. However, he couldn't — not this time around. He felt unsure whether he could survive another moment without speaking out. Silence, they said, was golden, but this silence tortured him. He needed answers to questions, which slowly ate his sanity and left his heart in pain. Hence, he shook his head without hesitation and slowly. He then sat up and, for a moment, stared forward at nothing.

The staring left him lost in his thoughts and in the memories of all that he had seen. With that, he grew a little angrier at everything — at himself for remaining quiet for this long and at her for her unfaithfulness. He didn't know when his hands began clenching into a fist, but it was her gentle touch that forced it open. Her brows furrowed and her lips pressed together couldn't air the concerns that glittered in her eyes.

What's the matter? Though unsaid verbally, Perli's eyes asked it. It bothered her how he behaved. She had thought it had been merely the effect of the long flight on the first day, but now, three days later, she couldn't give a reason for the behaviour anymore. It would have been easier if he had been able to speak his mind. However, months of living with him had made her observe that he was the type to bury his worries.

"Jack..." She lifted her head and searched his eyes. She wondered whether it had something to do with his black eye. "What is—"

"Sit up," he interrupted her, tapping the bed. "Let's talk."

Though tired and a little confused, Perli did as she was told without asking why. She sat up, using the strength of her hands to push her body so that her back rested on the pillows. She then looked at him and, with her hands on her lap, played with the ring on her finger.