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Bad moon rising part four

After that phone call I sat for an interminable amount of time in a daze, just staring off into space. I was racking my brain, searching for any other clues the my wife was having an affair. I could think of none.

After what seemed a like a lifetime I rang my best friend and relayed to him what had passed. I sought his counsel as to what to do next. He suggested I do what the voice had told me and simply ask my wife out right when she got home. I realised it was that or say nothing, pretend it had never happened. I hadn’t made that phone call, I hadn’t heard that horrible voice, it hadn’t spoke as it had, it was all just a figment of my overactive, fertile imagination. And yet……

The voice was still ringing in my ears and cut through me to the bone. It rocked my world on its axis. I loved my wife and she loved me. We had three lovely children and a good life. This other thing was indeed a madness. I began to doubt myself. I even had another look at the telephone bill, the demand for three hundred pounds, the list on page ten showing multiple calls to that number. What else could it add up to ? I so wanted to not believe it. I had the choice to accept my wife was somehow having an extra marital affair behind my back and say nothing, just try to let her get on with it and learn to live with it. I suppose that would have been the easiest in many ways. However, I didn’t think that I could live with myself if I chose that option. My mind was set, I would ask my wife when she got home what exactly was going on. The rest of the day passed in a blur.

The hours waiting for my wife to return home from work seemed to drag on. My mind was still looking for any other clues, anything that might confirm or negate my worst fears.

The more I thought about it the more I convinced myself it was all a big misunderstanding on my part. Yes, that was it, it had to be I told myself without realising that I was in the first stages of denial.

Eventually I heard my wife’s key unlocking the front door and went down the hall to greet her. She seemed as she always was. She smiled of contentment, gave me a kiss and asked me to make her a cup of tea. I went to the kitchen saying “sure “ trying to sound as normal as possible. She took her coat off and followed me. I put the kettle on then turned to her and showed her the tenth page of the telephone bill asking her “ Who does that number belong to ? “ Her face went white as a sheet and I realised immediately that I had touched upon a raw nerve. What followed wasn’t pleasant in the least and if anything left me feeling as nervous as hell. I got nothing by way of reassurance from her reactions. This was not going well, and it was only going to get worse, a lot, lot worse.

I have to have a break now because what follows is quite traumatic to relive. I shall move over to the inflatable bed I have that serves for a sofa. I need to change track and get my mind on to something else. I have a few things to take my tortured mind off the past events I am reliving in the process of telling you. Trying to learn Japanese is a good distraction because it is such a challenge. And tomorrow I will try to resume where I left off with my very own little horror story of gaslighting, a story that went all too tragically wrong for everybody in the story, sad to say.

WPO

Photograph courtesy of Jo Brazil

Author, writer, Illumination Editor, Top Writer in short stories and poetry.

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