An Innocent Wife

by Richa Resa

  “Yes, I’ll be there soon.”

  After saying that, I hung up. I didn’t care about taking my car. Stopping a cab, I asked him to rush it to the hospital. Seeing my worry, the cab driver drove the car as fast as he could.

  The entire way there, I prayed that they both were fine. I prayed for them to be safe. I couldn’t lose them, neither my wife nor my child. I just wanted to go back in time and make sure that I remembered my file in the morning. I wanted to take back my call asking Eunice to bring it to my office. They were my life, and without them I was nothing. All of what I had worked for was nothing. They were all I had, and I couldn’t lose them, not now and not in the future. I didn’t even feel the tears running down my cheeks.

  Within ten minutes, I reached the hospital. After quickly paying the driver, I rushed inside to the reception area.

  “Hello, my wife and daughter just came in here. They…they were in a…a car accident. My daughter is just two years old,” I said while wiping my tears.

  “They have been moved to the operating room on the first floor. Take the elevator, you’ll get there faster,” she said, with a concerned expression.

  I made a run towards the elevator, pressing the button as hard as I could. As soon as it came, I pushed the button for the first floor frantically, in hopes that I would go faster. I asked how to get to the ER and then made a run for it.

  “Please be all right,” I prayed to God on my way there.

  Two police officers stood outside the operating room. Hearing my footsteps, both of them turned towards me.

  “You are Mr. Morris, right?” one of them asked.

  Wiping away my tears, I nodded.

  “How…are they?” I stuttered.

  I had lost the ability to speak clearly.

  “Both of them were in bad condition. They were rushed to the emergency room as soon as they got here. The doctors are doing their best to save them. They both lost a lot of blood. We’re still trying to find the reason for the accident. There weren’t any other cars involved. It might be because of something on the road or anything else, sir. We can’t tell you anything more,” the police officer said; however, this was irrelevant to me.

  All I wished to know was how my daughter and wife were doing. I just wanted to see the smiles back on their faces. Nodding my head, I let them know I understood. A blanket of silence fell over us. I felt deeply worried because I had no idea what state they were in. I was scared. I wanted to know something, anything. Unwanted tears kept on coming, but I didn’t care at all if anyone saw me crying. I wanted a way to release this horrific pain I was feeling.

  Time passed while I looked at the hanging clock nearby. Five minutes turned to ten, then to twenty, and then to more. Thirty minutes passed as I stood there with the two police officers, hoping for any news from them. The phone in my pocket kept on ringing, and after a while, I switched it off. I needed no one but my two girls. The door opened for the first time since I arrived. A hope ignited within me that they would bring me good news, that they would tell me they were both fine and healthy. I looked at the doctor, who was in his early thirties to forties, with nothing but a blank expression on his face.

  “Are you a part of their family?” he blankly asked.

  “I am,” I replied.

  “Sir,” he paused before continuing, “we are sorry to tell you this, but we weren’t able to save your daughter. Your wife is still in critical condition. Your daughter had her lung punctured in the crash. There was too much internal bleeding. Most of the damage had already been done when she came here. We are really sorry for your loss,” he said, placing his hand on my shoulder and then walking away.

  My daughter was dead. My beautiful baby girl, Elle, was no more. She was gone, taken away from me. I would never see her smiling face ever again; I would never listen to her laugh or her giggle again. I would never play with her or tuck her into bed again. She was gone. There was a heart-wrenching pain inside me. I wanted to cry out, numb myself, do anything to stop this pain, this agony. I wanted her back, I wanted my baby. I would have given anything to bring her back. I would have even made a deal with the devil to bring her back.

  A painful scream escaped my lips as I let my pain out. She was gone, my baby was gone, and I couldn’t do anything about it. One after another, painful sobs came from my mouth. I didn’t know how to stop this pain. How could I stop my heart from bleeding? We couldn’t save your daughter. Your wife is in critical condition. The doctor’s words kept swirling in my head. They couldn’t save her. My wife Eunice was still in bad condition.

  A new anger coursed through my body. I asked her to not to bring Elle. I pleaded with her, told her not to bring her. She should have called Tara and let her babysit, but she didn’t. She didn’t call her; she took the risk of bringing her. She was the reason my Elle was gone. She killed her. She had killed our daughter, my daughter. She was a killer, a murderer. She was a monster, an evil voice inside my head shouted. Gone was my child and my love was the one who had taken her away.

  That day I grew numb, cold, and empty. There was nothing left in me besides emptiness. She had killed my baby. I walked out of there with the little energy left in me. I had nothing left. I no longer cared for Eunice. She was dead to me the moment the doctor informed me Elle was gone. She was to blame for Elle’s death. I was all alone in this world now. I had no wife.

  As time passed, I let my empty heart fill with hatred for her, for my wife. I never went to the hospital for her. She was nothing to me. With a heavy heart, I was able to look at my baby’s dead body. A long gash covered one side of her face. She laid there lifeless, and I couldn’t do anything to bring her back. I felt like the most miserable man on earth. Her death had killed me, the loving and kind person in me.

  I didn’t care what happened to Eunice. I remember her friend bringing her back to the house. She was weak, but I did nothing for her. I could hear her cries in my empty house, but I didn’t care. This was all her doing. I saw her working in the house everyday like nothing had happened. She used to work all day, and then cry herself to sleep. My mind decided she was a killer. She was evil; she had done this for some sick reason. Was it because I loved Elle more than her? Or was it because Elle was a burden on her? The days went on, and I decided that she did it for her freedom, to get rid of the burden out of jealousy for my love for my child. She had done this so she could have all my love. I didn’t want to see her face.

  One whole month passed, and I grew tired of the pain that grew in my heart in my daughter’s absence. I drank to numb my mind and heart, but it didn’t work. I worked hard, but that didn’t even help me any. I never talked to Eunice; I didn’t even see her face. I came in too late and left too early on many days, or I would crash in a hotel. I hated her, and this hatred was growing in me. I wanted a release, and that was when I chose a new way to release the emotion in me. Sex, lust, using women, whoring around was the method I chose.

  I still remember how it all started. A tall brunette threw herself at me in a small bar where I drank late at night. She was not beautiful, but not too bad. She flirted with me and kept on taking shots with me. I still didn’t have any intention of doing anything with her, but when I stood up, she clung to my arm and whispered, “Want to have some fun?” That pissed me off; there could never be any fun in my life.

  That night I took her to a cheap hotel and roughly had my way with her. She didn’t complain, and I let all of my hatred for Eunice and pain out. After that, it became a habit. I started screwing women I met in bars and my office staff. They never complained because they were always in for it. I felt bad for using them, but they were after nothing but sex or my money, so I used them. Anne became one of my regulars. She was just like the others, after my money and attention. She threw herself at me, and I used her. I didn’t love anyone anymore. They were all meant to be used by me so I could release my pent-up emotions of hatred and anger, and soon it also became a way to hurt Eunice. I used it as a way to wound her and sho
w her I never cared. I knew she knew all about it, and it gave me a sickening pleasure to know she was in pain. Anne was her friend, and that was why I kept her so close. Now she would know the bitter feeling of betrayal I felt when she killed my daughter. I wanted to break what was left of her, and after what I did in this house with Anne, I was sure my purpose succeeded. I had finally inflicted pain on her beyond her limits, and this was just the start to completely shatter her…

  Chapter 5

  Eunice

  All night I lay wide awake on my bed, his words burning in my ears. They had imprinted themselves in my memory so deeply that a second couldn’t pass without me thinking about them. Tears hadn’t stopped rolling down my cheeks; they were with me constantly, and now I was tired of this.

  When you killed her. The venom and hatred in his voice had done so much damage that I didn’t have much of an incentive to live. All the hope I had in me was now shattered like those broken pieces of glass that couldn’t be put back together. Those green orbs of his were filled with so much hatred and anger that they had broken and frightened me both at the same time. Now there was no reason left for me to stay in this marriage, to stay here. I lost it all and needed to let it all out.

  Taking this newborn courage, I got up from my bed and changed into a shirt and jeans. I didn’t even bother to look in the mirror. With tear-stained cheeks and messed up hair tucked in a bun, I grabbed my keys. At quarter to three in the middle of the night, I made my way out of this house which was no longer my home and went to the only person who would listen to me, the only person I could trust enough to tell me what was right and wrong, and who would always be there for me.

  Starting my car, I made way to Nora’s. She was the only person who wouldn’t judge or pity me. She would help and never try to hurt me. As I drove through the streets with nothing but silence enveloping me, I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering to the memory of the very day when I lost the most precious things in my life.

  “Come on, baby girl, we’re going to meet Daddy,” I cooed while picking up my second love, Elle.

  She was so much like Joshua that anyone could easily see the resemblance between them. They both shared the same green eyes, the same nose, and that very same smile that had made me fall for Joshua, and now for her too. She was my bundle of joy.

  “Dada.” She giggled.

  Though it was very hard to understand what she said, spending so much time with her had given me enough practice to understand her unintelligible language. When she came into my life, I gave up everything for her: my freedom to go anywhere, partying, socializing, even my job. However, I didn’t regret it for even a millisecond. I loved her and everything about her. Very carefully I strapped my little baby girl in her car seat; her security was my top priority.

  I had found the file Joshua had asked for and was now on my way to deliver it to him. Sometimes he really annoyed me, and this was one of those times. I sang rhymes all the way to the office to keep my baby doll entertained. I loved the way she giggled and her eyes sparkled. There was nothing greater than the joy of a child.

  As I was driving, I suddenly started to feel a little tired and uncomfortable. I was sweating even though the air conditioner was blasting. Thinking it might be the effect of stress or the result of sleeping less, I didn’t put much thought in it and took a gulp of water from Elle’s bottle. Concentrating on the road, I drove carefully towards my destination. As minutes passed, my tiredness grew. I blinked a few times to shake it off, but nothing seemed to help. I needed to stop the car and rest a bit. I needed to stop for Elle’s and my safety. My eyelids were growing heavier, my sweat increasing and heart beat quickening.

  Looking in the rear-view mirror, I saw Elle sitting securely in her seat, and with that I started to change lanes to the left so I could stop the car for a rest. Suddenly, black spots appeared in my vision. I quickly tried to drive to the left when everything started to go black in front of me. I lost my grip on the steering wheel and found myself exerting pressure on the brakes heavily, but it was of no use. The car jolted like something came under it, and within seconds the car started to swirl around, rotating into a crash. All I could feel was the glass flying and slicing my skin, the sounds of metal screeching and the shrill cries of my baby girl.

  “Elle,” I whispered as I laid my head on the roof of the car, looking at her for the last time.

  She had blood all over her face but she was still breathing. I was relieved to see her breathing. Her bloodied face was the last thing I remember. She was my last concern as the darkness pulled me in.

  The next thing I remember was waking up to the annoying sounds of monitors and machines. I woke up after two days, only to find out that she was gone. I had lost her, my baby girl Elle, and it felt like I had lost everything. It was only afterwards that I realized just how much I lost in that accident. I cried and cried all alone in that hospital room, thinking about my last memory of Elle. The image of her face covered with blood had imprinted itself in my mind. Joshua never came to be with me even though I wanted him to hold me. I let the never-ending pain consume me to the extent that I couldn’t take it anymore.

  I still remember seeing her lifeless body in front of me in the morgue. I screamed and begged the doctors to bring her back. I pleaded with them, I pleaded with God to take me and bring her back. Without her, life was empty and I couldn’t continue. I kept on crying and screaming at the top of my lungs while holding onto my Elle’s lifeless body. I was mad at myself and at God for taking away her life. I wanted her back with me. It was hard to let go of her, which was evident from the fact that the nurses had to drag me away from Elle by sedating me.

  The next time I woke up was in the presence of a silently crying Nora. I welcomed the comfort of my best friend and cried with her for the loss of my world’s happiness. Nora was there in my pain, a place where Joshua should have been. He never came to see me. Throughout my stay in the hospital, I used to try to catch a glimpse of him, but I knew he was grieving the loss. I felt I understood him, which was wrong, seeing the circumstances now. Nora and Clarisse took me back home and helped me. The next time I saw Joshua was at Elle’s funeral, where all I did was cry. I had already lost Joshua by that time. I felt the change in him. He had turned cold; he wouldn’t talk to me or look at me. I just wasn’t ready to admit it. He had grown numb since that day. I found out he didn’t shed a tear even at Elle’s funeral. I must have seen the signs, but at that time hope blinded me. Today that façade was broken, and I could see clearly there was nothing left. There was nothing in this marriage except pain.

  I reached Nora’s apartment in haste. The receptionist let me in, seeing my battered condition. As I entered the elevator, I saw a reflection of my broken self with swollen red eyes. My tears didn’t stop all the way up to her apartment. The elevator dinged upon arrival on the floor, and as the door opened, I once again thought about whether I wanted to tell anyone. Did I want Nora to know about my marriage problems and my broken heart?

  When you killed her. His voice echoed in my mind. In that moment, I knew what my decision would be. I needed an out. I rushed out of the elevator towards her apartment. I banged my fists on her door as the tears quickened and rolled down my cheeks. I kept violently knocking on her door until it opened to Nora half asleep in her robe. Her eyes were wide with concern upon seeing me.

  “Eunice,” she said.

  As those words left her lips, I latched onto her and cried my heart out.

  “Eunice, what happened?” she asked, worried.

  All I could do was sob and let the tears freely fall. I was badly broken. I never deserved this, never wanted this.

  “I’m done, Nora, I can’t take it anymore. He has…done what he…warned me he would do. He…has broken my soul, Nora. Save me. Help me,” I pleaded in between my sobs.

  “Who are you talking about, Eunice? Who hurt you, baby?” Nora asked while rubbing my back, worry lacing her voice.

  “Joshua. He has at last accuse
d me of killing Elle. I’m done with his shit, Nora. I want to save myself from this madness and hatred before I kill myself.”

  I needed to get out of his life if I didn’t want to end up in an asylum, or worse, dead. I needed to get away from him and his wicked games.

  ***

  “I’m going to kill him. Drive my car over him and that bitch, Anne. Damn, I want to pour my boiling espresso on both of them. I want to strangle them to death and bury them under that couch in his office.” That was Clarisse for you.

  I told Nora about everything that had happened in the past six months after the accident. Finding him and Anne on the couch, his escapades on business trips with many women, his behavior towards me, all about his infidelity, and how he tore away my heart and soul piece by piece. Everything was out and known to her. Nora cursed him like a drunken madman and quickly called Clarisse, asking her to come to her house urgently. As we waited for her arrival, she rushed me into the bathroom for a quick shower and gave me a comfy set of clothes to wear. She didn’t say much, but I heard her cursing Joshua and herself for not noticing the changes.

  Nora stirred up a cup of hot chocolate for me. She forced me to sit on the couch. Clarisse soon arrived with a face filled with concern, but it was understandable, as Nora had told her something had happened with me. She studied me, and by the looks of it, she had grown more worried. While I sat there silently, Nora told her the story of my miserable life, and that was why Clarisse was trying to come up with ideas to torture and kill Joshua and Anne.

  “You know what?” she said, facing us. “I would ask that ex-military friend of mine to put those skills of his to use and kill Joshua. Whereas for Anne, I’m going to hire a female street wrestler and have her beat her to death. No one would even suspect who did it. I can’t believe it. That bitch sat right there with us yesterday and acted like a fucking friend. That whore of a backstabbing bitch should just die right now. I should just kill her. Damn, I want to kill Joshua for showing up and acting like he loved you when he’s a freaking cheater, a bastard. I want to stab him to death myself. No, scratch that, I want to cut off his balls with those sharp German knives of mine, and then kill him!” Clarisse shouted, flailing her hands around in anger.