This day, four years ago, she’d had a wedding to attend, hers. She had woken up that morning, eyes marked with reminiscence of the past and hopes for the future. It was an arranged marriage and she had only met him twice. Though her parents never forced her with their choice, she had chosen Vivian at first glance. He had looked smart, dashing in his blue crisp shirt and black trousers on their first meet. Her heart had skipped a beat and naïve as she was then, his calm and polite demeanour were enough to make her fall in love with him. She’d probably fallen for his charm and handsome appearance. ‘My husband would be the envy of my friends’ eyes’, she had thought.
Her eyes had gleamed with happiness when she saw him standing at the altar. “They have never seen a more handsome couple,” the guests said. But the next day of their marriage when she stood in front of the mirror and saw her reflection, her heart sank; his last night’s touch lingered on her body with the bruises he had caused her that morning.
Over the years of their marriage, this behaviour of his continued. He would pin her to the wall and when she could not move a muscle, he would punch her face, beat her to his heart’s content. Everything she did seemed to annoy him; the food she made, the shirt which she did not clean spotlessly. Even the phone calls to her parents were a charade as he sat on the bed listening to her conversations. He was flagitious when he dealt with her alone, but feigned compassion in front of the world.
Strangely enough, though he was abysmally possessive, she could have left him easily but she chose to stay. ‘Where would she go after all? Her parents could barely support themselves’. On one such scathing day when he had punched her stomach she had not stopped bleeding, he’d had to admit her to the hospital. She had refrained from telling the doctors about her physical and mental abuse and from him the news about the child they just lost.
Today, chasing her little girl around, in the lawn of her rented house, she knew soon she would start getting pity calls from her family and friends but she could not help but contemplate the agony she had faced. She still carried the burden of her broken dreams and expectations in her heart but she was proud that she had survived it all, for her little girl.
She did leave him after all. The decision had been easy a few months after the incident when she had stood in the bathroom with her pregnancy test.