***
A big 'thank you' to Jujuma. His editing skills make this story way better.
Who's to blame when a marriage is falling apart?
***
Driving home, I glanced at Gina and wondered why our marriage was falling apart. This Saturday evening was the first time I seriously considered a divorce.
There were already small cracks in our marriage, but tonight, the cracks widened. We have been fighting for months. We fought over the tiniest issues and didn't get along anymore.
We were returning from a party hosted by our friends Greg and Donna. They celebrated their tenth wedding anniversary in their garden with a band, drinks, and bites. They had just moved into a small mansion with five bedrooms and three bathrooms. Greg must be doing well financially.
Gina and I didn't stay close. She talked with the other women, and I accompanied the men, discussing work and sports. Gina kept her distance from me, which was fine. It was a way to prevent fighting.
During the evening, I noticed Gina was drinking more than usual and said, "Gina, maybe you shouldn't drink so much."
She gave me a hateful look, "Fuck off, you can't say what I can or can't do," and angrily walked away.
It got worse when I went looking for her. I found her dancing and flirting with Jeremy. Jeremy had been a good friend of mine until his wife Sophie caught him cheating a month ago. Now, they are in the process of getting divorced. Gina told me Sophie smelled an unknown perfume when she washed his clothes, checked his credit card expenses, and knew enough. I thought we sided with Sophie, at least until today.
They both found it funny to embarrass me, danced closely, kissed, and he squeezed her boobs. He made sure I saw him sniffing his finger, which undoubtedly had been in her pussy.
I felt humiliated and angry and wanted to intervene when Donna put her hand on my arm, "Patrick, this is not the moment. You won't gain anything. Keep your cool. Talk to her tomorrow."
"You're probably right, Donna. Could you tell her that I'm leaving now? We have to get back to the babysitter. If she wants to stay, you can look after her."
I guess Donna was not too keen to have a drunken Gina around and convinced her to return with me. The asshole was still smirking.
In the car, Gina started a new fight. She was venomous now, "You pathetic loser. Why did you have to act jealous? Finally, I had some fun, and you just had to ruin it. I hate you!"
I didn't react. It would only lead to a much bigger fight.
Back home, Gina immediately went upstairs to our bedroom. I paid the babysitter and got myself a drink.
She might be drunk, but her last statement that she hates me seemed genuine.
The cracks were widening.
***
In the past nine months, Gina turned from a loving wife to a complete bitch. It started with small things. When you live long enough with a partner, you always have little annoying things. These annoying things were now causing arguments, like leaving a wet towel on the bathroom floor or not putting the garbage out.
Six months ago, the criticism and belittling started. I didn't react well to it, making us fight more. Gina has a high-pressure job, was promoted quickly, and makes more money than I do. She also has to put in more hours while I have more flexibility to care for Tommy, our son.
Once, I asked Gina to pick up Tommy. I had a late business meeting. She answered, "Sorry, I have a real job to do," which led to a new fight. Ultimately, I arranged for Tommy to stay for dinner with a friend. But Gina and I didn't talk for over a week.
Another time, after Greg told us they had bought the new house, she asked me when I would start to make some money. That didn't go well either.
The last three months were worse. We didn't talk. Gina only snarled at me, and I ignored her. Our sex life no longer existed. Up to a few months ago, we were trying to get pregnant, and now we didn't even kiss goodnight. The prospect of having another child with Gina wasn't appealing at all.
The last month was even worse. Gina kept being angry at me, and I got fed up with her behavior. It was not the life I'd signed up for.
***
Gina and I have one son, Tommy, five years old, who loves dinosaurs.
On Sunday morning, Tommy and I got up early. He was watching cartoons, and I made breakfast.
Gina stayed in bed, which might be for the best. After last night, we would have ended up in a new fight anyway.
"Tommy, shall we go swimming?"
That got his attention. Tommy always wants to go swimming. In our village, we have a large municipal swimming pool. Every Sunday morning from ten to half past noon, kids who have swimming lessons can go practice and play.
Gina was gone when we got back from swimming. We ate sandwiches for lunch, and Tommy, tired from swimming, watched cartoons.
Relieved that Gina was gone, I took a cup of coffee and made my decision. If things didn't change, I wanted a divorce.
In the afternoon, there was no sign of Gina. I decided to take Tommy to the movies. Tommy had gotten some Lego for his fifth birthday, and a new Lego movie was playing. After the movie, I made us a simple pasta for dinner. There was still no sign of Gina.
During the day, Tommy didn't ask me once where his mommy was. It made me wonder, how much impact have our fights had on Tommy? What example were we giving him?
When I went to bed, I noticed several of Gina's clothes and toiletries were missing. The bitch had left us!
I couldn't sleep and kept worrying about my life falling apart.
***
Gina and I met on a Friday night at a bar called 'Wilhelmina,' located in the city center of Eindhoven. I was with a friend, Bart, when he asked if we could go to 'Wilhelmina.' The previous weekend, he got together with a girl, and she would be there.
While Bart talked to the girl, I noticed her friends. One had creamy white skin, brown eyes, large breasts, wide hips, luscious lips, and long dark brown hair. She was the equivalent of a delicious whipped ice cream with dark chocolate topping. After one taste, you want more.
She had two beers and smiled at me, "Do you want one?"
Without waiting for my answer, she gave me one beer, and we started talking. We talked ordinary stuff like, "What's your name, what do you do, and where do you live." Her name was Gina, and she was studying business economics and living in Eindhoven, like me.
She oozed sex, but at the end of the evening, I only got her phone number.
Three days later, I gave her a call, nervous if she would even recognize me. She picked up, and when I introduced myself, she replied, "I wondered whether you would call."
I joked, "A girl who offers me beer? Of course, I will call you."