Anticipating his arrival, I restlessly walked back and forth, pondering how to deliver the news. I thought about his potential response and what he might express, fully aware that my spouse was not recognized for being passive in our community.
Although my husband occasionally has outbursts of anger that attract the attention of our neighbors, he is a devoted and nurturing partner who puts in great effort to provide for me. He commits himself to managing our home and devotes a significant amount of time to his dangerous job at sea in order to contribute financially. Nevertheless, his frequent absence poses an ongoing challenge for our relationship.
During my husband’s long absences, I often ponder the rationale behind my parents’ choice to arrange a marriage that would leave me feeling isolated and alone. There are times when I question whether I should have disregarded the guidance of my elders and avoided finding myself in this situation where I am left patiently longing for my husband’s return after four days. Suddenly, an unexpected knock on the door interrupts my thoughts.
“Is anybody home?” my husband called out. The sound of his voice filled me with fear, as I knew I wasn’t prepared to face him. However, I had no option but to confront him. “I’m in here! I was getting dinner ready,” I responded, walking towards him to welcome his arrival.
The man looked noticeably more tired and worn out after four consecutive days, which surprised me because I didn’t think it was possible. But as soon as he saw me, his face lit up and he immediately embraced me. Despite his tough demeanor, this man was genuinely a loving spouse. It made me sad to contemplate how he would respond when I shared my news with him.
Seated on the small wooden bench by the hearth, he inquired about everyone’s welfare and if Amma had made an appearance. I eagerly responded, eager to share the news that had been consuming my thoughts. Nervously, I informed him, “Yesterday Aiya brought lunch but Amma did not.” Then, with a quivering voice, I anxiously added, “My love, there is something important I must tell you but please try not to react negatively,” expressing my unease.
He stood up with narrowed eyes and angrily demanded immediate answers, causing my body to tremble. In a whisper, I confessed that I was pregnant and couldn’t bear to look at him.
Instead of meeting his gaze during a moment of silence, I intentionally avoided witnessing the disappointment on his face. After a while, he ended the silence by enthusiastically exclaiming that it was the most uplifting news he had heard in a long time. Quickly looking up, I observed his approaching joy. However, before he could reach me, I interrupted.
I tearfully confessed to Kamal, “I’m not with your child, Kamal. It’s not your child.” The sight of disappointment on his face was heartbreaking, but he deserved to know the truth. His face crumpled as he urgently demanded, “Sithara, whose child is it? Tell me now!” Despite his anger, it was clear that he was also feeling hurt and betrayed.
“I replied, turning around and running to the room with tears streaming down my face,” I said, acknowledging that it could only be the person who visits frequently to bring me lunch.
