The Love that Passed

Colleen

"Hubby, can you lend me some money?" I asked my husband, Jared, my voice filled with uncertainty. His gaze bore into me with a mixture of anger and frustration.

"Why would I give you money? Do you think just because I agreed to marry you, I will give you what you want just like that?" he retorted, his words laced with resentment.

That moment had taken place two years ago, not long after we had gotten married. At that time, I was battling a severe illness, and my doctor had just delivered the news that a compatible heart was available for me. The prospect of extending my life through surgery had filled me with hope, but there was a significant hurdle: the cost. So, I turned to my husband, desperately seeking his support. However, he met my plea with stubborn silence, his resentment unabated.

I understood his anger all too well. Our marriage had been orchestrated by his mother and sister, leaving him with no choice but to marry me against his will. He didn't love me; he loved someone else—Stacey, the woman he had been with for four years and had envisioned marrying before I disrupted their plans.

Jared had been clear about his feelings. He professed his love for Stacey and insisted that nothing I did could change that. I couldn't help but hope that they had parted ways after our marriage, although I didn't delve into their relationship. My hope wasn't born out of selfishness but rather a desire for my husband not to be emotionally entangled with someone else. After all, who would want their spouse to be involved with another person? I imagined no one would.

For the time being, I was relieved that Stacey hadn't come knocking on our door claiming to be pregnant with Jared's child. I shuddered to think about how I would react if that ever happened. While I didn't love him, I still respected the sanctity of our marriage, and I hoped he did too. Though, deep down, I knew he didn't, as long as he kept his relationship with Stacey discreet, hidden from everyone but the two of them, I was content to look the other way.

I couldn't help but wonder why I had acceded to my mother and sister-in-law's insistence on this marriage. They had been incredibly kind to me, showering me with affection. Yet, the marriage had brought me nothing tangible. Well, almost nothing. I had gained a family of sorts—a far-from-conventional one. Still, I cherished my mother and sister-in-law, whom I had come to regard as my own. They loved me deeply, as if I were their biological daughter and sister. Their care for me was palpable, and I knew that if Jared ever wronged me, they would be unforgiving.

My own family had been fractured long ago. My parents divorced when I was eight, embroiled in bitter fights over money, or rather, the lack thereof. I had grown to resent money, regardless of how shiny or enticing it appeared. The divorce didn't materialize until I was sixteen, marking the end of their tumultuous relationship.

Both my mother and father had embarked on new families, seemingly content with their newfound happiness. You might think I'd be happy too, free from their constant bickering. Initially, I was. However, their newfound bliss came at a cost—they both seemed to forget about me, leaving me in the lurch. I couldn't fathom anyone being pleased about such a fate.