To Love, Honour … and Obey by FreddieTheCamel,FreddieTheCamel

‘No wonder my friends hate me,’ thought Becky.

She regularly saw Dee and Jane, although only because their children were all friends, and she could sense that both women were secretly glad that she and Bryan were having marital problems. Come to think of it, Jane didn’t make it much of a secret. But if loving a woman was a skill, then Bryan was way better at it than either Dee or Jane’s husbands — and Becky saw that she hadn’t exactly been humble about that.

She sat up in bed, putting the pillow behind her back to sit straight and tall.

Okay, so Becky had her husband’s love, but not his trust. What could she do about that? The feminist in her head said, ‘A woman shouldn’t have to prove herself to a man!’ Becky sighed.

‘That’s a big help,’ she muttered.

***

Bryan sat with his feet up on the couch, reading a book titled The Romantic Delusion. He had been reading many such books lately, as well as watching podcasts on subjects such as the nature of desire, intersexual dynamics, and the differences in male and female psychology. It was both fascinating and depressing — depressing in the sense that if what he was learning was true, virtually everything he had been taught about love, sex and relationships was a lie.

There was a quiet double knock on the door. Bryan marked his place in the book.

‘Yes?’ he said.

Becky opened the door and looked in. She wore her years-old long white nightie and her hair was loose, making Bryan think of a woman in a Victorian ghost story.

‘May I interrupt you for a minute?’ she said.

‘Of course,’ said Bryan.

Becky stepped in, closed the door and came barefoot over to Bryan. He took his feet off the couch so that she could sit next to him, but instead Becky knelt on the carpet at his feet. In her white nightie, she looked like a religious penitent.

‘You can sit next to me,’ said Bryan.

‘No,’ said Becky. ‘I don’t think that would be … appropriate.’

Bryan looked at her, his expression impassive. She was either mocking his ‘assertiveness’ or this was a clumsy attempt to show respect. He decided to give her the benefit of the doubt and assume the latter.

‘All right,’ said Bryan. ‘How can I help you?’

‘I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,’ said Becky. ‘And I’d like to run an idea past you.’

‘Certainly. What’s the idea?’

‘I want to suggest that we retake our vows.’

Bryan took in a deep breath. He looked at the far wall, his eyes tracking left and right as his mind went to work. Becky recognised that expression and knew she was in for a long wait. She rested her cheek on his thigh, reaching her arms around his waist, and Bryan idly stroked her hair as he considered her suggestion.

‘Okay…’ he said finally. ‘Here’s what comes up.’

Becky lifted her head to look at him, her two hands resting on his leg.

‘First, I’m delighted that you came up with this idea,’ he said. ‘It shows me that you’re serious about wanting to make the marriage work.’

‘I do want to make the marriage work!’ said Becky. ‘I absolutely do!’

‘Yes, and that comes across loud and clear. I want you to know that.’

Becky’s face fell. She knelt back, her hands hanging by her sides.

‘I can feel a “but” coming on,’ she said.

‘I’m afraid so,’ said Bryan. ‘Becky, there is no point either taking or retaking a vow unless you believe in it.’

‘But I do believe in it!’

‘I’m sorry, but your behaviour suggests otherwise.’

‘Bryan, I was weak! I made a mistake!’

‘Really?’

Bryan leaned forwards.

‘Becky, be honest with me. When you were considering sex with Marcus DeVere, did the thought of breaking your vows make the idea more exciting or less exciting?’

Becky’s face went bright red. She got to her feet and turned her back, her hands clenched into fists. She shook her head angrily and spoke to Bryan while only half looking at him.

‘Bryan, I can’t help how I felt!’

‘I’m not saying you can. I’m not even saying you should.’

‘Then what are you saying?’

‘I’m saying that you’ve proposed a solution to our problem, and I appreciate that. But in my opinion, retaking a vow that you nearly broke in the first place is not going to work.’

‘Well, what do you suggest then, Smart Guy?’

‘If you want to take a vow, it has to be one you believe in.’

‘For god’s sake, Bryan! Just because a person is tempted to break a vow, that doesn’t mean they don’t believe in it!’

‘I disagree. I think a vow is something you take in order to strengthen your resolve to do something positive, not something you take to stop yourself doing something negative. If you’re tempted to break a vow, then it’s not really a vow.’

‘That’s bollocks!’ cried Becky. ‘Name one vow that you wouldn’t be tempted to break!’

Bryan considered. Then he got to his feet and slowly walked towards his wife.

‘I can think of one,’ he said. ‘And it’s a vow that you took.’

‘Me?’

‘Yes. And this is a vow that I would trust with my life.’

‘Well, don’t keep me in suspense! What is this super-amazing vow I took that you actually trust me to keep?’

Bryan stood facing her.

‘You told me,’ he said, ‘that the day after Tara was born, you were sitting up in the hospital bed holding her for the first time. And as you held this tiny little baby, you suddenly felt terrified and overwhelmed by the huge responsibility you were suddenly facing. And you told me that you looked up to Heaven and said: “Dear God, please show me how to be a good mother. I swear I will do anything to be the best mother I can be for this little girl.” ‘

Bryan leaned forward.

‘Now that is a vow,’ he said. ‘And tell me, Becky … have you ever, even for a moment, been tempted to break it?’

Becky looked at her husband with tears in her eyes. She slowly shook her head.

‘You fucker,’ she said.

***

Bryan joined Becky when she went upstairs to bed, although not with the intention of having sex. But one thing led to another, the nightclothes just seemed to come off and before long the two of them were inside each other, making love. It was a gentle, undramatic missionary style fuck. Bryan reached orgasm, came inside Becky, and then the two of them just lay connected, holding each other in silence.

Bryan tried to lift his head to look Becky in the face. Becky’s arm flexed across his shoulders, indicating she wanted him to stay put. Bryan relented, his eyes open, his mind turning. As if reading his thoughts, Becky turned her head so that her mouth was by his ear.

‘I’m not angry with you,’ she said. ‘But you gave me a lot to think about, and I need the space to think about it.’

Bryan once more moved to lift his head. This time, Becky did not try to stop him. He looked down at her and frowned.

‘Do you need me to sleep in the spare room?’ he said.

‘No, no, no,’ said Becky. ‘I need mental and emotional space, not physical space. I still want to make love and be touched and … and be with the man I love.’

Bryan nodded stoically. Becky tilted her head as she looked up at him.

‘You don’t believe me, do you?’ she said. ‘When I call you “the man I love”?’

‘I … believe you’re telling me the truth of what you feel.’

Becky’s face hardened.

‘Get off me,’ she said.

Bryan pushed himself up and off her, moving over to his side of the bed. Becky shifted herself away and lay on her back, one forearm over her brow. She stared upwards and a tear ran down the side of her face.

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