by Dora Okeyo
satisfies me then that’d be good, so go ahead, explain.”
“I was drunk, and she was…I am sorry Beryl, what do I need to do to convince you?”
“I am tired of taking apologies. You miss events and apologize, you constantly hurt my feelings or ignore the little things I ask of you and you apologize. Well, I am done listening to your apologies Mark. I leave tomorrow.”
“When will you be back?”
“I don’t know.”
“What does this mean Beryl? What does this mean about us?”
“I don’t know I think the meaning lays in that other woman’s bed!”
“Beryl…”
“Come on Mark, eat up then get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be a long day and I don’t want you looking pathetic at work. Just eat, go take a shower and you’ll sleep just fine.”
“What did you do? Are you poisoning me?”
“I am not that stupid Mark. If I wanted to get rid of you I could have simply pulled a gun to your head of chopped off your legs. I am tired dear, have a good night and see you when you see me.”
“Beryl…”
“Good night Mark.”
“Beryl…please…”
I looked at him only once. He was remorseful, but that wasn’t enough. I went upstairs and locked myself in the guest room. I cried myself to sleep at around 2:00am. He did not sleep in our bedroom. I heard him walk into his study. That was so like him; Mark knew how to bury his sorrow in books. He could read the whole night and wake up refreshed. I knew that his heartache could not be healed by reading. I was the only one who could heal him. all I had to do was say one word ‘okay’ and he’d be well, but I couldn’t. I loved him too much to say so without healing my broken heart first. I thought about seeing that woman. I thought so much about it that I felt it would be the key to my healing. How could he do that? How could he be so inconsiderate? I packed my bag in ten minutes and was out after breakfast. I made us breakfast and Mark sat there poking his eggs as though he couldn’t eat them.
“You have to eat Mark.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ll die of hunger if you don’t.”
“What do you care?”
“I’d rather I leave you alive than watch you die.”
“Beryl is this how things are going to be?”
“How are they?”
“Hostile.”
“Really? I think we are finally coming to an understanding of who we really are, don’t you think so?”
“Is there anything I can say to make you change your mind?”
“No.”
“Let me know if you need anything at least.”
“I don’t need anything from you Mark. I just need to stay away from you.”
“Oh…okay, have a safe journey then.”
“Thank you and you be good to yourself.”
“I will.”
He dropped me off at the airport and drove off without a whisper. I yearned for a hug from him, but the thought of him touching me irked me. I put on my sunglasses and waited to board my plane. I had called my parents and told them I would be on vacation. My Father was happy that I took a break. Mother was suspicious but she did not probe too much.
My name is Beryl. I am an Executive assistant at a Real Estate company here in Nairobi. I have been working there for a year now. The pay is good and so are the employers. I told my boss that I needed to cash in on my leave and she knew that after a month, there will be a lot of work to be done and I would be around. As I took my seat on the plane I let out a sigh. It was finally hitting me that I would be away from Mark. I was running away from him. I was running away from the one institution that I had to stay in for better or for worse. He needed me and I could see it in his eyes. I could feel it when he walked around the house. I could see he was sorry but it wasn’t enough. A part of me saw his pain too, his regret. The other part of me was disgusted by him and the disgust was too strong to keep me there. I boarded that plane with such ease you would have thought I had no care in the world. One month…that was then and now that my days are done, I have to face him again.
Does he know how much he hurt me? See, most men do not understand something about women- we do not desire much, the little we seek is that which they cannot satisfy. I wonder why God created the woman as a helper. If we are to help men, why can’t they appreciate the little that we do? Is it too much to ask a man to be honest? Is it too much that he does not sleep with any other woman while married to one? Is it too much to ask him to love one woman alone? Is it really too much?
I am seated at the balcony of one of these hotels overlooking the ocean. The evening breeze brings with it such fear, chills and worst of all pain. You’d think that after one month I shall have gotten over the fact that he cheated. You’d think that after one month I would be ready to settle things and continue living in the same house with him. I dreamed of having his children. I dreamed of being the one he turned to when the whole world demanded so much of him. I guess I did really dream and reality has just dealt me the greatest blow. I was dreaming while he was living his life. He went out one night, just one night and he opted for another woman’s bed. Some lady at the hotel told me that she would rather her husband cheated on her and she never knew it, because she could kill him. I listened to her go on about how her Gregory is the sweetest man she has ever met. The first thing she asked me was if our marriage knew Jesus. I could not answer that. She then asked if we knew Jesus. I told her we did. I knew Jesus, but could not tell so much on Mark’s part. I knew then that we attended mass, prayed together but most of the times I prayed and he would often kiss my forehead asking God to bless me. Every morning he would kiss me saying “God bless you woman, for you are mine.” I would smile at this and spend my day delighted. He did some little things at least that much I can grant him. Like he would call me at lunch time to know what I was having. He drove into town once to have lunch with me. I swooned over him the whole afternoon you’d think my face was on fire! The lady at the hotel kept asking me to let Jesus rule my relationship. I smiled at her and wondered why He could. I had to do something before He did. I had to create room for Christ to rule and somehow what I needed to do was go back to my Husband. I wanted to see Mark.
I picked the phone a month later and dialed his number. I was shaking as I heard it ring…what would his voice sound like?
Did he really miss me?
Had I done the right thing for leaving him behind? I waited in silence looking at a piece of paper where I had written my thoughts.
: Hello, Beryl.
: Hello, Mark. How are you?
: When are you coming home?
: Tomorrow morning.
: That’s good to hear
: How have you been?
: I can’t say. It’s been crazy at work and yeah, I am trying to get things okay, so I am doing my best I guess.
: I will be there by noon, how about lunch?
: I’d love that
: Okay, see you then and I…
: I love you Beryl
: See you when I get there.
I hang up before he could say a word. One more thing about Mark, he respects me. I know no man would stay even a week without talking to his wife who was miles away. I knew he was trying his best not to. I could not say much about his work but knowing him he must have done his best.
This is me trying to come to terms with the fact that the man I loved cheated on me. I am trying my best to understand why I hate him so much after what he’s done. I’m trying to figure out why after loving him for four years, being married for two one incident causes me to forget all the rest. It hurts. I wish he knew just how much pain I am in. I wish he could tap into my heart and feel how much pain was consuming me. If only he could cry as much as I do every time I think about him, then maybe- just maybe he would know not to do such a thing. The other question is will he cheat again? I read an article once that said that there’s no reason men cheat, they simply do. I would like to know w
hy he had to sleep with that woman. Could he have been so drunk that he could not tell who she was? How could he have given her his number? How could he have come home to me after sleeping in her arms? I am consumed by so much anger and hate that I could choke Mark. I hate the fact that I still love him. What I hate the most about loving him is that though he disgusts me I cannot get him out of my mind. One would think it is easy that all I have to do is go back and say I forgive him. I could do that. It is simple, I could get home and hug him and cry in his arms. I could let him know that though he cheated on me I still love him and would give him a second chance. It is simple and I know women who have done this. I know also women who live under the same roof with a man who cannot see any leg pass him by without nailing it. I also know of women who when their men leave to see their mistresses, they leave with their boy toys. I am not one of those women. I do not want to be part of a majority. They have their reasons for what they do and I respect the fact that they can see through their actions. I would not want a baseless marriage. I want to live and not simply exist. I want to feel loved even when he says so. I want to say I love him knowing that I really do. I know this sounds crazy, especially to you…but who cares, at this point there’s no turning back.
I have talked to Nelson Ngwae. He is my lawyer and I asked him to draft the divorce papers. I want to get out clean with my head held up high. I want to start on a new leaf. Before I do so all I want to do is make sure that what I am exiting is indeed over. Mark will have