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HIS MARRIAGE ONLY LASTED THIRTEEN WEEKS. Ninety-one days of pure marital bliss that came to a crashing end when he found himself wailing like an infant on the icy tiles of his bathroom floor; crying out for his lost love, the way she once cried out for him.
Thirteen weeks in and his genteel, lovely wife suddenly had the decorum of a drunken homeless person. While on her knees, she yelled out through the open door for Derek to take off her earrings. It seemed an odd request, but he made for the bathroom anyway to tend to his petite wife who guzzled enough rum earlier to take down a linebacker during their outing with friends.
Getting his darling angel back home was like trying to corral a grizzled, one-eyed alley cat. And once she’d finally been safely squirreled away in their apartment – which only has the remnants of its original furnishings from when it was his pad just a few weeks ago – the beautiful wayward Mrs. began making demands from her porcelain throne. When he walked over to her, she looked up at him with baby-doll-sized pupils, waiting for him to unclasp her earrings.- but he had no idea how to do that, so he asked her the simple question, “How?”
She responded by absurdly blubbering that in her drunken haze she’d forgotten how to take them off. So, he decided to approach the problem like a house maintenance project and reverse engineer how to unhook the clasps. Success! He held his conquered prizes proudly in the air, but the demure lady was too busy being in a screaming match with the toilet to notice. Regrettably, he wasn’t quick enough to pull back her long, tussled hair to keep it from being entirely soiled. Despite now looking like a rolling dumpster fire, his only reaction was to laugh sweetly while brushing the mess from his lover’s hair.
A doting husband, he then headed to the kitchen to get his sugar some water, so the next morning wouldn’t be the worst day of her (and his) life. As he filled a glass with water from the sink, he realized the refined belle who turned into a dipsomaniacal highwayman was too uncoordinated to drink from the cup without spilling water all over herself; so he cleverly poured the water from the cup into a sports bottle.
He returned to find his comely wife sleeping on the floor, holding the privy like a teddy bear. He picked her up and carried her like the princess she is back to bed, thinking how much she would be impressed by his chivalry if she were at all aware of her surroundings. She woke up when he tucked her in, her darting eyes looking at him back and forth. He knew exactly what she was experiencing: the room spinning like she was seated in the cockpit of a stalled plane spiraling towards the ground. He handed her the water bottle and brushed back her hair with his hand. He’d never seen her like this, but her delinquent behavior only made him love her more. Once the bottle was safely secured in her two hands, he began cleaning the bathroom, hoping to quell the noxious, penetrating cloud that was wafting into the bedroom.
The wailing of a despondent grown woman started yet again. He scurried out to find his drenched bride in bed- holding an empty water bottle. She apparently drank none of the water and instead squirted the contents of the bottle all over herself. He couldn’t help but laugh again at her infantile antics, which only made her sob all the louder. She reached out her arms toward him and through her tears cried out, “Take care of me!” He smiled at her adorable plea and fished out a fresh pair of jammies from her meticulously organized drawers. He changed her with thankfully little resistance and walked into the kitchen to refill the water bottle, which he then held for her like a farmer feeds a calf a bottle of milk.
Only about two minutes went by before his wife burst out of bed and made it just in time to the head to spew up the water he so patiently fed to her. This time, however, he was able to grab her hair without it getting entangled in her regurgitated dinner. After a couple of drive heaves, she slinked back down to the floor and swiftly fell asleep. The gallant prince then once again carried the heroine back to bed, only to have her throw off the blankets and run back to the bathroom the moment he laid her down. Though, she didn’t get sick this time, she simply laid on the tiles in the bathroom, appearing to prefer the cold, hard floor to the warmth of their bed. Undeterred, the white knight heaped all the blankets from the bed on top of his bride and wrapped her like a burrito, trying hard to stifle his laughing.
When she began to snore like a sailor, he picked up his swaddled lover and gently placed the sole source of his joy back onto their bed. He laid on the bare mattress next to her and spooned his bundle while dosing off to sleep, until a light from her nightstand illuminated the room. He was careful to not wake his sweetheart when he rolled across the pile of blankets to shut off her phone.
He didn’t need to snoop to see the adulterous text- it was right there, lit up on the screen.
He doesn’t remember picking up the pillow.
Or the way she must have squirmed in the covers when she fought for air.
Or calling 911.
He only remembers the way the cold tiles felt on his cheek when the police put him in handcuffs, while he sobbed like a baby, crying out for his bride.