It doesn’t matter if I laughed over Candy’s advice or not, she was right. We have communication problems, Reggie and I. Although, she has no idea how hard communication with him actually is. First comes the case of him being at home, or rather lack thereof. To talk you must have your husband close to you, OR have him pick up your phone calls, which he never does. One time when I called him and he actually picked up, guess what his response was? Too busy, talk to ya later is all I got. Sounds frustrating already? It’s only the beginning.
I know to some couples sex is just an extension of their love and good communication they have with one another. To us, though, it’s all we do together, and you don’t have to be some kind of a relationship coach to realize it’s not quite okay. I once heard that people use sex as a tool to feel less lonely in their lives. Maybe it’s true, you know, maybe it does work for some. But the longer this pattern lasts, the lonelier it makes me feel. Does he not care enough to just have plain talks with me anymore? Like a drowning man catches at a straw, I try to tell myself that he does care, that maybe he doesn’t have a lover for he is interested in me and my body still. But you know? It doesn’t work. And I’ll tell you why.
I wouldn’t mind if Reggie had a lover. After all, I used to be the woman on the side, and, speaking from experience, I can tell how it works. It works like that: you are just for fulfilling sexual desires, you are a sex toy that can be thrown away without notice. Wiped away from his life just as suddenly as you entered it. No one cares about such women. They’re homewreckers, so naturally they’re the ones who are expected to take care of themselves. They don’t need a man – a man needs them. That’s what people say, at least. Another truth for you – people don’t have a clue. Do you know what it takes to be a true homewrecker? All you have to obtain is lack of heart whatsoever. I never succeeded at that. That’s why I didn’t get the title. I had a heart, and a young one at that. It’s more dangerous than you realize. I could lose everything because of this. I was lucky.
But I haven’t explained everything yet, have I? Wait for it. Other women are miserable, they are the ones who are a lost cause, not wives. It’s rare that the men actually fall for them. As I’ve already said, they’re nothing but sex toys. That’s why I wouldn’t care if Reggie had a woman on the side. It would mean I’m still the main one. I’d be the one he comes home to, the one he talks to up to the wee hours of the morning. But I’m not the one.
I have become the other woman for Reggie.
So, does that mean that there is a female who plays the first fiddle? To be honest, I have no idea. I’m becoming desperate due to smelling him and his clothes. There’s always a mixture of Hugo Boss perfume, gasoline and sweat. Up to this point I’ve never smelled anything suspicious and/or unfamiliar. Am I going out of my mind? Maybe. Am I just full of conspiracy theories which would explain why my marriage is not working out? Definitely yes. After all, it’s not that casual for wives to make a list similar to the one I add to and think of each day with Candy’s help when the twins are asleep and Shari draws.
Reasons for Reggie’s behavior:
- I have become the other woman, meaning there is a wife figure in his life. Proof? None up to date. Theory suspended.
- Reggie’s overly ambitious and star-struck. Therefore, he’s getting more and more lost in this world of fame and floodlights, forgetting all about his family. (?)
- Reggie still misses Amanda. No signs to support theory, he’s not avoiding me. Theory dismissed.
- Cars are more important to him than his family. Proof: suspicious behavior around them (talking, hugging, affection?). Strong base for theory.
- Reggie’s childish and not grown enough to take care of a child, therefore he avoids his children. Proof: his story about Amanda wanting him to grow up. Against the theory: fact that he avoids me as well, spare for physical contact.
- I’m not attractive to Reggie anymore. Fact that he has sex with me suggests otherwise. Theory dismissed.
- Age gap is getting between us. He can’t be serious with a woman who’s the age of his late daughter. Proof: uses me only for fulfilling sexual desires. (?)
I finish writing the 7th theory and look helplessly at my notebook, then throw it at the wall opposite me. I turn to Candy who’s been helping me and sigh theatrically.
“This makes no sense, Candy. Is that what these infamous daddy issues are all about? Can a relationship like mine never work out?” Tears are threatening to burst from my eyes any moment now.
“Aren’t daddy issues all about growing up without a father?”
“So, like I did, huh?”
“Oh, c’mon. That’s not what I was hinting at, hon. You know what you should think of?” She gestures to the cribs. “These little ankle-biters. They could be experiencing real daddy issues if you don’t do anything about Reggie soon.” I frown, looking at my two loves. Maybe Candy’s right. I’m self-absorbed yet again. But what’s she doing? Giving me relationship advice, when she is a single mother, meaning a total loser.
“Do something about Reggie? Maybe you’d do something about Daryll, what about that?” I didn’t mean to do it like that, but I know I hurt her badly by how her face expression changes – from shock to hurt, to anger in just mere seconds.
You know what? You have everything – a huge villa with a jacuzzi and a pool plus a man many would dream of and you can’t even appreciate it. Do you know what I would advise you? To do everything not to end up like me and Daryll. Because if you go on with this let-him-screw-and-go attitude, I see it ending worse than my relationship.” She gestured around the room. “You may lose all of this fanciness in a second, you know? Maybe this would be better for you. Having to finally do something when someone won’t be earning for you to sit with your thumb up your ass will certainly do wonders.” I have never seen Candy in a state like that. I didn’t even know she could be unpleasant until now. “We’re going, Sharicka. Out of this madhouse,” she adds coldly and raises the girl from the floor, not letting her finish her drawing, to her apparent discontent.
“Wait, Candy! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
“I thought someone was finally being empathetic towards me and accepted my choice not to abort, as no one until you had done. Turns out I was wrong,” with that she walks out the door. I don’t try to stop her anymore, just turn around to face my babies who suddenly started crying, hearing Candy’s raised voice.
Candy was right. This really is a madhouse, with every single member of it experiencing some sort of daddy issues. Reggie, if only I knew what to do to keep you here with us…
Note: And that’s why I said I can’t really have a happy couple in my story. I’m trying, okay?
Note 2: I randomly came back, because I just remembered I was meaning to link a particular cover by Lana Del Rey in this chapter, The Other Woman.