Starting Over at Sixty Years Old

Arthur hailed a taxi and gently escorted Sylvia into the taxi before burrowing inside as well.

I have never experienced such a level of thoughtfulness and attentiveness from him.

…

I was not going to wait around at the studio like a fool for Arthur to come back for me.

I could get a taxi myself, there was no reason to wait for him.

I called a taxi and had them drive to the front of the studio. I even troubled the driver to step out and escort me into the car with an umbrella so I would not get caught in the rain.

At my age, I am especially vulnerable to sickness.

Therefore, I have to take care of myself.

Arthur returned two hours after I got home.

As soon as he entered the house, he yelled at me with a dark look on his face, “Cecil, haven’t I told you to just wait for me back at the studio? Did you know that I got drenched in the rain because I headed back there to look for you?”

I set aside a cup of hot water I had poured for myself and retorted with a question of my own, “How far is the drive to her place that I would have to wait for you for more than two hours?”

A trace of guilt flashed across his eyes upon hearing this. He immediately dropped the subject.

“Help me wash my clothes and bring me something to get changed into.”

I noticed that his clothes were soaked with water, and wet clumps of hair clung to the side of his face as well.

He had taken off his clothes and tossed them right at my feet.

In the past, I had always tolerated his arrogant way of treating me like I was some sort of housemaid. I did it because I figured it was part of my duties as a housewife, especially since he was the breadwinner.

Over time, I got used to attending to his every need.

But now, I suddenly found myself detesting the way he treated me.

I ignored the dirty clothes tossed at my feet and proceeded to question him about the wedding album again, “Are you going to explain the wedding album yet?”

He must not be expecting me to keep pressing him about the subject since I was usually so docile and easygoing. He wore a tight frown and started to grumble at me in the same manner a professor would lecture his students.

“All those years back, we had to split up because we had no other choice. Later on, it was her who came back to me, but I still didn’t divorce you because we had a child and there were many other domestic factors involved. All we’re trying to do now is fulfill the dream we never got to fulfill when we were young, why don’t you just drop it since we have been married for so long already?”

I regarded him with a drooping look as I listened to his nonsensical justifications.

In all the decades we have been married, this was the first time I have evaluated our marriage so bluntly.

He claimed that the reason he did not divorce me was because of many domestic factors.

That was true. He had all three meals of the day taken care of. I took care of his laundry, cleaned his house, and took our children to school…

I had taken care of all of the chores ranging from the trivial ones to the important ones. I went from a young lady to a middle-aged woman, and then to the old lady I am today.

I sighed and suddenly felt sieged by a heavy wave of exhaustion. I was done bickering with him about this.

“Wash your clothes yourself. I’m getting tired, I’m going to bed.”

...

My cross attitude further infuriated Arthur who was already upset from being drenched in the rain.

He grumbled ‘unbelievable’ under his breath before picking up the clothes on the ground and stomping off to the bathroom.

Since he had never used the washing machine, he ended up squatting in front of it and tinkered with it for ages to no avail. In the end, he sneezed from the cold and finally resorted to asking me how to use the washing machine in a grumbling voice.

I lay on the bed and did not answer him.

After a while, I heard the sound of the washing machine operating.

Then, Arthur stepped out of the laundry room with a brooding look. He began to rife through the wardrobe.

“Where is my light blue sweater? Where did you put it?”

Again, I turned over and ignored him.

The atmosphere inside the room was at the point of breaking, like a volcano on the brink of eruption.

At last, Arthur decided he had enough.

He grabbed a few clothes and flung them on the bed. When he bellowed, his voice was hoarse and laced with anguish, “I have explained everything to you, why are you still doing this? Can we not live in peace anymore?”

One of the buttons on the clothes struck against the wound on my forehead from earlier today that was not healed yet.

I hissed in pain.

Arthur did a double take, then he came up to me and seemed distraught.

“When did you get that wound from? I didn’t even notice…”

Ever since we met today, his sole attention has been on the wedding album. He couldn't possibly have the mind space to notice my wound at all.

I studied his expression for a long time.

In my younger days, I was enchanted by his good looks and ended up marrying him.

There was no telling what you were going to get when it came to marriage.

Though my tone was calm, I was filled with desolation.

“If we can’t live in peace anymore, then we shouldn’t even bother anymore.”

After the words left my lips, I suddenly noticed that all of the feelings I had held for Arthur had gently dissolved.