“A gold-digging single mother.” Truth is indeed stranger than fiction

“A gold-digging single mother.”

That is a terrible phrase to be attached to the woman you love, who up to a week before was your potential wife - before you started on the idiotic mission to find about her past.

How do you reconcile the fact that she is a mother, yet so well kept? You may be forgiven to think she has never seen the inside of a labour ward. Now with hindsight, you have had these misgivings before. How do you confront her?

Why did Cindy call her a gold-digger? Seriously, for three months, she has never borrowed even a penny from you. You have never met a more independent woman. Now how do you confront her without offending her with the fact that you have been digging for her past?

You like confronting people pronto, but today, that won’t work. There is a reason. Three months down the line, she has not mentioned her child in the conversation. And then, there is the meddling problem of the baby daddy. You are not meeting her until the weekend and you have two days to figure out how to strike.

She recommends a Friday night in, with just liquor and low music. It has been a hectic week for her. One thing you have noticed; Carol never talks about settling down or marriage. There are hints here and there, but could it be that you are misreading or reading too much into them? She really acts secure around you. Maybe she will tell you soon about her life. But patience is not one of your strongest virtues. It’s time you confronted her, just in case her baby daddy happens to be one of those foolish men...

“Ever thought about my suggestion?” you ask her.

“On what? You are always suggesting things.”

“That I actually want to marry you...”

“Ha ha ha ha...,” she laughs, “don’t be carried away.” She casually dismisses you. There is an air of contempt about her. But you can tolerate her. It is the price you pay for dating her beautiful self.

“I am serious. You know, we are old now... And I think the two of us are best placed to start from where we are...,” you nudge her. You want to put her on the spot to explain her life. But she is smart.

“We still have time. Unless, you are in such a hurry, by which I can’t hold you, you can always go ahead and marry. As long I can have a piece of you when I want...” she says.

She hesitates on the last part. Probably sensing that she was unnecessarily harsh on you. It was a clever attempt to lace her admonishment on your rashness with some honey. Too bad when a woman knows she overwhelms you by her looks. Carol knows she cast a strong spell on you.

“I didn’t say I am marrying today, but we can start talking about it,” you say more authoritatively.

“Gosh! Why so suddenly, stop pushing me. It is complicated on my end...” She says, rather impatiently. Not inviting any conversation, as she rises and pours more whisky.

“The more we should talk. What are we?”

“Friends with benefits. End of discussion.” She says curtly and rises to go to her place, leaving you on the sofa.

Diplomacy has not worked.

A war of words could. Or a physical war will make her talk. This week you will give her silent treatment until she talks.

Passive aggressive is a good strategy in any relationship.

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