Will I ever get married?

By Posh

Philip had guts. After an hour, we sat on the sofa and chatted as we watched football, but this time I wasn’t betting on anything!

"So, tell me about madam... What's her name?" I asked.

He hesitated before he gave me a poor summary of his wife. He introduced her like a man not proud of his soul mate.

"So what does Isabella do?" I persisted.

"She is a scientist," he replied bluntly.

The hint was clear; Isabella was not an interesting topic of discussion. I mean, what man would want to introduce his wife as a scientist and leave it at that. Was it medicinal science, human science, sci-fi, scientism!

"Enough about me. So what are you up to yourself? You look more stunning than the last time I saw you,"’ Philip probed.

It was getting late and Philip stood to put the fallen wedding photo back to its original place, only to find it broken. He cursed, saying the frame was a special gift from his mother.

"You should have thought about it before contemplating on cheating on your wife with me!" I retorted, totally unconcerned.

Philip had made me devalue marriage and despise men even more.

He made a note to replace the frame as I stood to leave. Talk of partial cheating. That was the new invention in town. Or at least Philip made it that clear.

I did not feel guilty at all. He had just used me visually to fulfil his physical desires and that I could cope with.

No welcome

Later, Philip drove me back to my house in Parklands. He wanted to come in but I did not welcome him. I didn’t like married men hanging around my apartment whenever they were ‘bored’.

That night, as I sat pondering on the day’s events, I wondered if I would ever get married and bear the fact that, somehow, my husband would cheat on me. The idea was sickening.

Philip called back later to inform me he had arrived home safely. Then he asked me to take him shopping the following day for the wedding photo-frame. I declined. He said he understood my dilemma and promised not to push me.