A/N - Hello! I've been writing all sorts of stories lately. An idea will hit my mind and I usually try and start immediately while it's fresh. Sometimes it works out, but I've got a few documents on my laptop where I've got around halfway and run out of steam, or just don't know how to finish it all off.
This idea came to mind while I was writing another 'Loving Wives' tale. It's not going to be entirely realistic, and I might leave a note at the end about where it was complete fantasy. Australian laws are rather different to other parts of the world, and as explained previously at the end of another story, our divorce laws are almost set up in a way to make divorce less appealing than trying to stay together.
Usual caveats. All editing and reviewing done by the author with Microsoft Word. Spelling is usually spot on. Australian / British English. Definitely the occasional typo. Grammar can be ropey at times, but it's been a long time since I sat in a classroom. All mistakes owned up to by the author. Please remember this is only fantasy and I'm an amateur.
Comments and feedback appreciated as always.
*****
Arriving home from work, I wasn't surprised by the lack of any real warm welcome. Is it true that after a decade and a half of marriage, the passion just suddenly dies? Is it due to the pressures of daily life, raising kids, both of us working, looking after a house and home, and all that just leaves us with little time to keep the passion going? Sarah, my wife, was in the kitchen preparing dinner when I walked in. I always used to enjoy the embrace and kiss we'd share. I was lucky to get a peck on the cheek nowadays. She asked about my day, but it almost seemed to be feigned interest when I responded to her. I gave up as I wasn't just going to fill the silence, asking about her day in return but she had little to tell me.
Holding back the sigh, I walked through the house towards the bedrooms of my kids. My oldest daughter, Chloe, was always the one person in the household happiest to see me nowadays. Nineteen years old, now at university, happy to remain living at home. Every time I appeared in the doorway, her face lit up. "Evening, Daddy!" she'd exclaim, getting up to hug me tightly, a big wet kiss on my cheek. It used to be I'd give her a big hug, lift her up and swing her around, making her giggle as I leave little kisses all over each cheek. That was now a few years in the past though we still showed each other all the affection in the world.
As for my two younger sons, they'd be busy gaming. I was lucky to get a grunt from either of them whenever I popped my head through the doorway. Considering they were fifteen (Michael, though he preferred Mike) and thirteen (Christopher, though he was only ever known as Chris), I guess they just didn't see their father as cool or something any longer. Who knows? But it's a bit deflating that there only seemed to be one person in the household that seems to appreciate me any longer. The last time my wife seemed to actually give a shit about me was on my fortieth birthday last year. Even Christmas passed with her barely seeming to show an interest. New Year was spent together but to say the intimacy was on life support would have someone pulling the plug, sooner rather than later.
I've tried to talk to her more than once about the state of our marriage, but she'd insisted more than once everything is fine. I've suggested counselling but she gives me a funny look every single time the asked why I'd want to bring an outsider into our marriage. Whenever I mention the fact our sex life is nowhere near as good as it used to be, and we barely seem to do anything with each other, she just smiles and states she loves me and she's happy.
Well, she might be...
I guess when you still love someone, you're willing to give the benefit of the doubt. You still have a blinkered view of your partner. Returning to the kitchen after giving my daughter a hug, hearing her whisper that she loved me, always making me feel better, my wife was talking to someone on the phone. She wasn't whispering away and knew it was one of her best friends. I poured myself a drink, offered to help as I always did. She just waved me away.
Sitting down for dinner later at the table, something we insisted on doing as we didn't want to eat in front of the television, it was pretty much the only time I could talk to my sons without the distraction of their games. I would ask about their studies, but they were at that age when school just 'sucked' and they insisted they'd done their homework. As it was their responsibility, I wasn't going to check up on them. Parent-teacher meetings were sometimes interesting, a role my wife and I shared.
"Mum, Daddy, I have an interesting assignment for one of my classes," Chloe said as I was busy chewing away on another mouthful, "You know how DNA testing is rather popular today to check your ancestry? Well, what I've got to do is obtain a DNA test for the family and then I have to trace my history as far back as possible. It's a joint DNA and ancestry thing."
"That sounds interesting, sweetheart. When do you need it by?"
"I have everything I need upstairs. It has to be completed by the end of the month. Boys, are you okay with that?"
"Sure, whatever," Mike mumbled. Chris just grunted. Chloe rolled her eyes, making me smile. Glancing at Sarah, I was surprised to see her looking a little nervous.
"I'm not sure, Chloe," she stated.
"Why?" Chloe asked in reply.
"Well, I guess I just don't want to know who I might be related to. Never know what sort of skeletons might be hiding in our bloodline!"
I couldn't help laughing. "Oh, come on, Sarah! The worst thing you might discover is that one of your distant relatives was a convict. From what I know of my family history, my great-grandparents were born here. Before that, I'm not sure."
Sarah still looked unsure before she sighed. "Fine, fine. I guess it is important for your classes."
After dinner, I gave it no further thought except for when Chloe came to join me where I was out in the backyard. She'd sometimes find me in the shed, but part of me just didn't want to be in the house. The boys were back in their rooms already, Sarah was in the living room, watching trash reality television I had no interest in. Chloe would usually be studying or messaging all her friends. Again, she was the only one who'd come and keep me company.
"Are you okay, Daddy?" she asked.
"Happy as I can manage, sweetheart."
"Daddy... Why do you think Mum was originally against it?"
"No idea. I guess I can understand her worry. Ever seen the BBC show 'Who Do You Think You Are?' More than one guest has found some skeletons in their closet. Imagine learning a distant relative was, I don't know, involved in the slave trade, or took part in the Stolen Generations or something. Someone being a convict really wouldn't bother me though."
"I'll let you know the results when I get them."
She kept me company outside until it started to get dark, giving me another long hug as she sat on my lap. Considering she was only five-four compared to my six-one, she was rather light, and I could easily pick her up if I wanted. Resting her head against my chest, I felt her snuggle into me, wrapping my arms around her tightly.
"Daddy?" she whispered.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"Are you and Mum unhappy?"
I tried to hold back the sigh, but I couldn't. "I guess you're old enough. She insists she's happy."
"But are you happy?"
"I'm trying my best, but I just don't know anymore. I've tried to keep the romance alive, at least. You know all those little gestures that used to mean something. But when it barely gets a response, and she seems disinterested the rest of the time..."
"Well, I still love you with all my heart, Daddy."
I didn't reply. If I opened my mouth, she'd have heard those few simple words would have choked me up. I just hugged her even tighter, kissing the top of her head. She eventually got up to continue her studies, kissing my cheek and smiling at me, a hint of sadness in her eyes. She was Daddy's little girl. I'd happily taken her to netball or dance classes when she was younger. I'd always been her biggest supporter I whatever she wanted to do. I'd done the same for my sons, but they just didn't seem interested in anything anymore, and I didn't want to be one of those pushy, overbearing parents.
Chloe took what she needed for the DNA tests over the next couple of days before I just put it out of my mind. I was intrigued about my own history, as anything I did know was simply word of mouth.
Otherwise, life continued as normal. I found enjoyment in certain things. I loved my job as a mechanic, though I was no longer on the shop floor. My grandfather had opened his own workshop decades ago and eventually opened two more. My father took over the business when my grandfather retired, and he expanded the business further. He was still in charge, though was only a couple of years from retirement himself. I'd started on the shop floor, as I loved anything mechanical, but I'd been groomed for at least the past few years to eventually take over the running of the business.
I'd given up playing sport five years earlier as I just felt too old to get up and keep playing every weekend. That didn't mean I grew lazy as I still attended the gym a few days a week. I probably wasn't as trim as I was a decade earlier, but I kept the usual middle-age spread at bay, my stomach still flat and relatively toned.
I hadn't given up on my marriage. I still bought flowers for my wife every week. I took her out for dinner and drinks as I knew she liked to get out of the house, away from everything. I showed as much of an interest in her life as I always did. But with every passing week, a little part of me was just left wondering what the point was as I seemed to be getting nothing back. And there was also the question of why it should be left just to me. A marriage is two people and it's not just up to the husband to do all the work. 'Happy wife, happy life' is a bullshit anachronism of yesteryear, where the husband should sacrifice his own happiness to keep his wife. What about the husband's happiness?
And with each passing week and month, I wasn't just miserable. I was getting frustrated and quite fed up with it all.
Trying to keep interested in my son's lives was almost impossible. They'd go to school, spend the rest of their time gaming, and on a weekend, they might disappear to see their friends. Getting them to do anything with their father was like pulling teeth. Nothing I suggested gained a positive response and asking what they wanted to do with me was met with a shrug of the shoulders. I never stopped trying but it's rather disheartening.
I ended up spending more time with Chloe than anything. Story of my life for at least the past few years, to be honest. Even through her teenage years, she'd argued with her mother quite a bit, but she'd always been at least pleasant with me. As her mood finally stabilised in her late teens, we'd enjoy what we called 'daddy-daughter' days. It would usually be something simple. At least once a month, I kept the tradition of taking her out for an ice cream, and we'd spend a couple of hours talking about anything on our minds.
