Twist and Tear | Chapter 7: Married

Our married life was no different than the time we date except for the fact that we started living together.

One time we were eating dinner at home after I cooked something, I talked about domestic violence with him.

“My dad once hit my mum with some book he had in his hand. My mum didn’t talk to him for nearly a month afterwards,” I said.

“Well, my dad once hit my mum with a ruler because she said something bad. But then my mum took it all in and returned the favour after a while. It was so bad,” He said.

I didn’t know how to react to that.

Did that imply maybe he will do the same? Why did he always try to compete with our different stories and somehow wanted to one-up for every single thing? How insecure did he feel to have to do that to validate his own experiences?

I started to think of our previous interactions, and realised this one thing that really pissed me off. Now that we were married and I had to face him all the time, I realised this should have been a deal breaker, but I was way too blind to see it.

He always talked and talked, and I never minded.

Now that I think about it, I really should have.

However, I knew it was pointless. So I just swallowed my anger and thought of all the things I did like about him.

What did I like about him?

He was sentimental, protective, nice and gentle.

Was that all the quality I can think of?

The sudden fear struck me and I realised I might have made the worst decision of my life, and it had just been over a month since we got married.

I started washing the dishes and he kissed me on my cheeks, oblivious of my mental state. It was fluctuating and my mind was doubting heavily.

Maybe being married to him and having to deal with him every single day and night made me go mad or maybe noticed more and more things I dislike. I got negative, and I got furious easily.

But he never noticed it, because I held it all in.

I was never like this before. Knowing this man made me change so much, so readily, and it was scaring me.

I told you this is not going to last.

No.

I was going to make this work.

Reality had hit me, but I had an optimistic mind in me that knew I could make this work, somehow. I really wanted to prove that reality could go well for once, unlike how I thought it should be from young.

I shouldn’t have thought that, because now that reality and life had a hold of me, it was overriding my emotions, overtaking my feelings towards Keson and his oblivion towards my true feelings.

I was coming back home one day, and that day Keson had to work late so he didn’t pick me up. As I got home and later he did as well, I complained about my work and how tired I was. I didn’t always express my feelings, and when I did, I really just wanted someone to finally listen.

I just wanted Keson to try to listen to me, because it had always been me listening to him talking over and over.

“Today my manager had a bunch of meetings and I had to prepare coffee for all these sports team members and their managers,” I said, tired and exhausted, “They were in this conference room thing and after I gave them coffee, they needed me to sit down, give ideas, and also mark down what they say. But then they also wanted me to go and fill up their coffee. So, in the end, I walked in, then out, then back and it was just so…”

“Yeah, today there were loads of people, and you know how I had to work late? The last customer came and he was all like walking around the store and picking up stuff, but then putting it back down. I was thinking, just make up your mind bro. When it was busier earlier, I had to go to the storage room to pick up some stuff. I was the only one there, so I had to attend to the cashier as well. I had to do all these chores by myself, and it was terrible. I had such a bad day…”

I could not listen to him anymore. My tiredness and exhaustion had led my anger to rise and rise and for that moment, I could not hold it in any longer.

“Do you really not know how to respond and be understanding? Why do you have to one-up for every single fucking thing while all I wanted was for you to soothe my hurt feelings and say nice words to me? It is really not that fucking hard! This is not a damn competition between you and my misfortune!!”

I stood up and wanted to run back to my study room and slam the damn door.

But then, Keson grabbed me, and I had no idea if he was trying to calm me down or if he was furious that I got angry.

Maybe he never saw me get angry before, so he went out of his mind and didn’t know what to do at all.

Either way, what happened next was that he grabbed my arm, then slapped me hard across my face.

“DON’T!” He yelled.

Both of us stopped our motions immediately, as his hand was shaking in mid-air after slapping me, looking very confused as to what he did. Then he looked empty, and lastly, regretful.

I was in shock.

So much shock that my anger did not turn down.

Instead, it started to boil over.

I had the rationality to grab my bag and run out of the door, as I heard him chasing behind me after a long pause. He paused… maybe because he just didn’t care, or he could be in shock too.

I never knew what he was thinking, but I just knew that I ran and ran and ran, until I could no longer run.

I ran so far that I got to an unknown street.

I let out a cry as I found a bench to sit on.

I kept crying and I could not stop.

I was completely destroyed.

I could not believe that he slapped me, and I could not believe I finally let out my anger, fully, at him.

Welcome to the real world where no one is perfect and there are no happy endings.

I always knew no one is perfect, and I realised and truly gained a full understanding of that since I married Keson. I recognised his flaws and started to unclog my blindness.

I kept crying and crying, and why was that?

Was it because he slapped me? Was it because I realised the truth and that I might have made the wrong decision? Was it because I was angry at myself for not acting upon issues earlier like I should?

Was it because I actually loved him and I didn’t want to believe that he might not love me enough to listen to me and not harm me?

Suddenly, I felt a coldness in my soul.

He talked about his parent’s domestic violence encounter to compete and rule over my parents’ commotion.

Maybe he thought that it was normal, a light topic, and he might do the same. Because who would be sick enough to compete on such a heavy subject??

I didn’t want him to harm me.

I didn’t want to get hurt.

Not now, not ever.

I asked him to not hurt me from the day I confessed, and he didn’t.

Would he do that now?

I kept sitting there, feeling the cold air, as I started to see two police officers with their torches walking towards me.

My eyes were swollen from crying. My face was swollen and redden from his slap. I covered my face consciously, but then one of the police officers noticed my act and shone the light towards me as I was forced to close my eyes.

“Are you okay, ma’am?”

I nodded, but then the other police officer looked worried and started to act concerned.

“Can you move your hand so we can see your face?”

“It is fine…”

“Please, let us have a look.”

I moved my hand away slowly. They both gasped, and soon started to get angry.

“Did someone harm you? Where did the offender go?”

I didn’t know what to say but looked at them both and started to cry.

“Don’t worry, we will protect you. Come here now,” The police officer said to me.

She held me up gently and took me to their police car.

I kept crying the whole way, not knowing what to do or respond, as they drove me to the police station silently, giving me space and time.

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I sat at the police station as they asked for my name and contacted my relatives.

They contacted Keson, since he was my emergency contact and my direct link. He was my husband after all.

Keson came over to the police station to pick me up, but then the police officers saw my reaction as I pulled myself into the chair when I saw him. They started to reconsider whether they should let him take me away.

“Sir, is she your wife?” One of the police officers asked.

She was the one holding me to their police car.

Keson nodded.

“Did he hit you?” She turned to ask me.

I cried and Keson wanted to come and comfort me, but got held back by the other police officer.

“I didn’t do it intentionally…”

“Please follow me to file the papers. You can talk to the interrogators,” The officer holding him back was angry.

I felt his pity and care for me, but I didn’t want it to get too serious.

“I am sorry sir, it is okay. We can sort it out,” I said to him, politely and quietly, yet avoiding Keson’s eye sight.

“No ma’am. He hit you, you ran out alone at this hour, and got stranded on the streets. There is definitely something wrong. Please follow me sir,” The policewoman said to me, then turned to Keson.

I pulled on the policewoman a bit, looking at both of them, and somehow begging, “Please madam, and sir, it is alright. I am sorry to bother you. Please don’t hold it against him, I am sure…”

The words ‘he didn’t mean any harm’ got swallowed down. Maybe he did want to harm me. Maybe I did want him to harm me to wake me up from all this, to make me know that I should have never trusted or believed him, and that this was all a huge mistake.

I was so doubtful.

I had been doubtful from when he accepted me, but somehow I let it go.

Somehow I let it be.

“I am sorry Royane, I really didn’t mean it. I should have been more attentive to your feelings and listen to you. I really don’t know why I hit you, I really didn’t mean it. I love you. It just got to me at the moment and…”

“Better tell you that, asshole,” The officer said, clenching his teeth, “All domestic violators say the same thing. ‘It just happened at that moment.’ Bullshit. If you love her, it never should have happened in the first place.”

“Officer, this is the first time it happened. I am sorry to bother you but we can sort it out,” I said, quietly.

I didn’t want Keson to be arrested, and I didn’t want this to go any further.

The policewoman looked at me pitifully and in doubt, “Are you sure?”

I nodded. She sighed.

“Well the decision is yours. But if you need us, we will be here anytime,” She said, patting my shoulder and staring straight at Keson, then sighed again.

“Okay now, we can arrange a marriage counsellor for you two if you have some problems to sort out. Do you want her contacts?”

I nodded slowly. Keson looked at me, then nodded too.

“Okay, wait for me,” The police officer walked away, said something to the counter and came back with a name card.

“Here is her contact. She will be available by appointment,” She said, looking at me sincerely, “I hope it helps.”

She then stared at Keson with a warning, then walked away with her colleague.

Keson and I walked out of the police station without saying a word.

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©Yolanda Yip (Wintsarye)