Dully, she watched him as he wobbled his way toward the bed. As was usual, without any preamble, he grabbed her. She went in position. The deed done. Almost immediately, he was snoring.
“Is this
Marital rape?” Alter-ego popped a question.
“You have been
enduring this for years,” Conscience carped.
“But why do you
have to suffer?” Ego reflected.
“Do you have
any choice?” Diminishing reason reasoned.
“This
is marriage, a commitment. There is neither looking back nor quitting,”
Helplessness spewed out.
“He
needs me, and the kids need their father and I need his money to secure kids’ future.
“ Logic muttered.
“And this is
your share of life.” Sentiment burst.
“Under
that rugged veneer, lies a tender heart. And you know to play your cards
right.” Confidence whispered.
“My life. My
bane. Perfect couple, other’s think. So is it!” She soliloquized.
“Put on your
mask of contentment,” Warning cautioned.
War-weary
woman rose up the next morning with a pretentious content, her raison d’être.
Her pretensions had pulled on over two decades of marriage
