The Workaholic Wife ✅

Young and old

We went on our own version of a date. We gasped, trying to catch our breath. Aniket was upright, trying to breath as normal as possible. I, on the other hand, was trying not to die.

My wheezing seemed to trigger a sense of panic in my mind; I knew what was about to happen next. I would cough like hell was brought to Earth. I would look weak in front of my husband.

I always had these issues since birth. I was a miracle child, my mother always told me. I was dead one moment, but a strong survival instinct and my fathers loving touch had brought me back to life when doctors declared I was dead.

I turned my head, hiding my weakness and vulnerability from Aniket, who seemed to be triumphant about the proclaimed date. I'd rather die than let him see me like this. I jogged the other way, and I heard his soft footsteps padding along behind me. I could feel his gaze on me, and it sent shivers along my spine knowing that I could bring such a intimate emotion out of my husband.

I started to use that term in my mind a lot now. A day and a half of my marriage with him has trapped me in a mystical spider web I couldn't get myself out of.  He was the spider, he would swallow me, and I would never have any other choice but to let him.

He was a spider waiting for his catch.

I was the innocent fly who followed into the mystical web of partial truths concealed by partial lies.

I wasn't getting out of this one. No matter how much I struggled from his grasp, I was stuck in the web. Unable to get out. Unable to reach my freedom.

I smiled at him, knowing he was stuck with me as well. He had no other prey to consume. I was his choice. I am his.

Let him consume me.

"Aniket," I gasp. "Can we get some water?"

"Sure, let me get some from the pond."

"Don't joke. Dehydration is a very serious issue. We need to drink some water."

"I'm good," He says looking at the park around us. It was empty except for a few children and some elderly people who probably came here to stop feeling trapped in the four walls they call a home.

I wondered what my mother would say if she saw these people. I missed her terribly after a day. How could their children dismiss them as if their parents hadn't raised them their whole life, just like that? I see so many elderly people at the hospital, trying to bring back their children by burdening them with their health.They seem like a burden to some ungrateful children. Especially men. Men who want a private life conducted in a lavish apartment where they can't look after their own kids and leave them at a day care or with a nanny, a paid person whose sole job is to provide them with the love they crave from their parents.

It's pathetic.

I drag Aniket with me to a park bench where a elderly man was deep in thought. I positioned myself between the man and my husband, who had a confused look on his sculpted face.

I sigh, getting a desired reaction out of the man.

"Aniket?"

"Yes, sweetheart?" He says pulling me closer to him.

"Will you take care of me when I'm old?" The man beside me tenses, and holds his wooden cane tightly in his right hand.

"Of course. Till I die. Even after I die." He promises, looking at me.

"How?" I say, turning to look at his face.
"How will you take care of me?"

"I don't really know." He says honestly, turning the other ways in wonder. "But we will be together, and my mother always say that, if you want to comfort a person, just be there for them. Try to understand their situation. I know that I'll never leave you."