A Friendly Note to My Husband’s Girlfriend
Megha Nayar
Hey! Hasn’t it been a while since you guys last met? I can tell, because today is the third day my our man is going without a bath. When he doesn’t have the incentive of meeting you, he doesn’t particularly care for how he looks or smells. I see him sitting at his desk right now, watching something on his phone and scratching the back of his neck with a ball-point pen. I can tell that his body needs a good rinsing. If he doesn’t make it to the shower by tonight, he is going to stink like spoiled cabbage. Even our dog – our geriatric Yoda with his predisposition for atomic farts – smells like roses compared to my unwashed husband.
Did you two have a fight last weekend? I could tell from the look on his face when he got home that something was wrong. Having known this guy for almost a decade, I deduced that you must have clashed with him on something – possibly voiced a contrarian opinion or pointed out a miscalculation – and that must have ticked him off. If there is one thing this man hates more than showering, it is being disagreed with. He’s very Virgo that way. He won’t learn his lessons from anything other than catastrophic failure. Advice is a mortal enemy, even if (and especially if) it comes from his wife. Or, as in this case, his lover.
You might find it comforting to know that he is petulant and snappish with everyone, not just with you. The other day, he got miffed when I reminded him that he was late with his Income-Tax returns. Yesterday, he took offence when his mother pointed out, over a video call, that his belly has started to protrude. Last week, he lost his composure when a client asked him to guarantee the accuracy of his export timeline. Anger and exasperation are second nature to this man. He wounds quickly and easily. It is a good thing his wounds are not physically visible, else he would be covered in scabs.
I would have written this little note to you last week itself, had I not been suffering one of his moods. I do not know exactly what triggered it but I suspect he got out of bed on Monday morning at an ill-omened hour. The whole week went downhill thereafter. He was surly, he yelled at some associates in a meeting (and, I’m told, got yelled at right back), and eventually lost an important client to misplaced rage. Back home in the evening, he clashed with me on the need for using methi seeds in matar paneer, and when I insisted that my recipe was perfectly legit, he spent an hour describing all the ways I have blighted his life.
Anyway, the point of this note is not to frighten but to enlighten you. Considering we are co-partnering this man now, let me share with you two techniques that I have found extremely useful, over the years, in tackling his whims.
The first is mute resignation. Whenever you sense that he’s walking into a disaster – be it a bad hire for the office or an impulse purchase of pink pants – just nod your head thoughtfully, look sombre, and desist from commenting. Do not react, even when you know he’s headed for a free fall. If he prods you by asking questions, say nothing and fake-smile. He will know, from the look on your face, that you don’t quite approve of his plans. And yet he will not be able to take offence, since you wouldn’t technically have said anything. Argument averted.
The second method I use is called the B, not A technique. I learnt in the early years of our marriage that if you want this man to agree with you on something – say a restaurant, or a travel destination – you suggest something entirely antithetical. So, if you’re in the mood to watch a breezy sitcom, you propose The Conjuring instead. Basically, you give him an opportunity to say No, because No is his favourite word. It makes him feel powerful, like he’s steering the relationship. He will promptly disagree with you and suggest something contrarian. With any luck, the opposite of a spooky film will be the sitcom of your choice.
Why am I telling you all this? Seems odd that I’m playing pally with the woman who’s bedding my husband, right? To tell you the truth, I was (obviously) mad at you at first. When I caught a glimpse of your half-naked derrière on his WhatsApp, I wanted to turn up at your doorstep with a hatchet. Like any regular wife, I wanted to grind you to a fine paste and feed you to feral cats. But once my fury subsided and I started thinking straight, I remembered that you weren’t the one I’d exchanged my vows with. In fact, I snooped around a bit and found out that you haven’t exchanged vows with anyone at all, which means you’re technically an untethered bird, free to be as promiscuous as you please. Whether it is morally appropriate for you to date a married man is undoubtedly a pertinent question, but it is much less relevant to me than the question as to why my married man is dating you.
So, I do not plan to castigate or hound you, especially considering I know what you’ve gotten yourself into.
Now follows the next question: do I want to confront him?
Nope. I could have sent him scurrying to the lawyers long back, considering I found out about your little dalliance a while ago. I’ve had ample opportunity to collect evidence and plan a spectacular showdown. But, I don’t want to.
The thing is, you haven’t really been intrusive. On the contrary, your arrival has substantially eased my life. You occupy his thoughts and keep him distracted. You compel him to divide his time between you and me. You have access to his body and mind in ways I don’t. All of this makes him feel pretty guilty. Result? In the little time that he spends at home, he treats me better than he ever has.
He is calmer, quieter. With the exception of last week, we don’t argue as much as we used to. He has stopped badgering me to give up work in order to care for his ailing mother – in fact, he has finally agreed to let me hire a helper. He interrogates me much less than usual, and for shorter spans. Why, just last week, I was able to spend a whole evening with my friends without a single jarring phone call. He simply forgot to cross-check my whereabouts! I must tell you, this has never happened before – not in the eighteen years that I have known this man. It’s as if the weight of culpability is making him turn over a new leaf.
In a nutshell, you have helped unburden me.
How long will this tranquillity prevail? I do not know, but I am confident that at some point, he will return to me like a bad penny. He will never want to marry you, because he is a judgemental a**hat. He may well be the philanderer himself but he will deem you an unfit life partner for your decision to affiliate with him. You’re dating him, a married man, today – what if you date someone else as a married woman tomorrow? The thought will wrack him and put you out of the running. He will enjoy his short-lived affair, then promptly crawl back into our cave.
I’m not looking forward to it. I do not enjoy being the sole recipient of his attention, and I do not want the spotlight again. It is a definite eventuality though, because I am not particularly eager for a separation either. Divorce is a complex beast. It involves reviving a long-buried version of yourself, starting over, and answering awkward questions forever. All of this comes with giant slices of scrutiny and pity, none of which I deserve. I will not put myself through this inconvenience, simply because I am not the reason this marriage is a mess. In the choice between leaving and staying on, the latter is socially and logistically a lot easier.
So, stay on I will.
About your tenure I can’t say much, but for now, you can gladly share my throne. I don’t miss my husband’s intrusions and investigations, and I’m glad for the lull of peace you have sent my way, even if it is only temporary. I like to live for the day, so I’ll happily take it.
In return for my largesse, I have only one request of you – please ask him out on a date today, and on alternate days hereafter.
It will, at least, compel him to take a shower.
*
Megha Nayar was long listed for the Commonwealth Short Story Prize 2020. She teaches
English and French for a living, and writes to remain sane. Her work has appeared or is
forthcoming in Bengaluru Review, Gulmohur Quarterly, Bending Genres, Trampset, Variety
Pack, Versification, Burnt Breakfast, Brown Sugar, Rejection Letters, Coven Editions, Marias
at Sampaguitas, Kalopsia Lit Mag, Averse Mag, The Sock Drawer, Cauldron Anthology,
Potato Soup Journal, Interpret Mag, Postscript Mag, Ayaskala Mag and The Daily Drunk
Mag, among others. She tweets at @meghasnatter.
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