Passable Gravity of Marriage
By Holden Wilde
His wife’s voice sounded both irritating and numbing. Ervin wished it was more monotonous, so he could completely ignore it but she was almost shouting, telling a supposedly funny story about her mother. Ervin looked at her: after 10 years of marriage, she was still objectively good looking and a keen fashionista, but he felt no attraction. They were having Sunday breakfast in the large dining room of their gorgeous apartment, overlooking Central Park’s ice skating rink. The food was fresh, healthy, and delicious, their two children were beautiful and neat. The table was appointed with modern-looking dishware matching the minimalistic look of their furniture, but Ervin couldn’t wait to escape.
He was trying to remember why he’d fallen in love with her and couldn’t. After four months of dating, in her bed, as he was moving slowly inside of her, he had looked into her deep green eyes and his heart had started to melt. Ervin felt completely happy and said the three magical words. Since then, she had proven to be everything he had ever wanted in his life-long partner: always a killer date, a determined but wise mother to their children, a whore in a bedroom, and an accomplished executive. Her relatives and friends looked like characters in an upscale fashion magazine: grounded with strong values, good looking, and successful. Ervin’s friends had gotten used to his complaints by now but still couldn’t hide their surprise when, with enough alcohol, he would open up about his wife-caused depressions and thirst for divorce. “But you look so good together, you enjoy same things, and your kids are amazing,” they would usually say. Yes, the kids. Ervin loved coming home after work or business trips and being forced to the floor with screams of happiness, hugs, and kisses from his son and daughter. They were the reason, the only reason, why he hadn’t left yet.