Johanna didn’t understand why people were being so melodramatic about the incident. Even the married ones were acting as if they have no idea what happens in a marriage.
Ben was not that violent. He loved her. They had been married twelve years now, and that is more than she could say for fifty percent of women her age. She had a beautiful home with a large garden, her three children were in good private schools and she got to spend her days doing what she liked. Every Christmas, Ben took them on holiday: Last year they had gone to Dubai. The children had enjoyed the desert safari and he had bought her the most exquisite gold bracelet from the Gold Souk. He had told her it was her gift for behaving herself. The year before that, Ben had taken them to Zanzibar, where she had gone snorkeling and spent the days lazing about. The children had absolutely loved the endless hours of swimming. How many people got to have that kind of luxury? And now they wanted her to leave him, claiming that she was being abused! Idiots!
Johanna had been a good wife; she tried to please her husband. Unfortunately, she had had a lapse recently, and that is how this embarrassing interference came about.
Last Saturday, Ben had a party for his friends from work. Johanna had shipped the kids off to her sister’s place for the night. In the morning, she had called the catering company and made sure they had everything under control, just to be sure, she’d driven over to have a quick chat with the manager. Then she had gone to the beauty shop to get herself styled up, not that she needed much work. Johanna was one of those women who had been born with the right skin, hair and body. She didn’t need to work out, everything fitted just right and her skin glowed. But for Ben, she always had to go an extra mile.
“You look horrible, when was the last time you went to the hairdresser’s?” He would ask if any strands fell out of place. He just wanted her to look her best at all times, and since he was providing the cash for it, she obliged.
When Johanna had been pregnant with their last child, Ben had insisted that she goes to the gym for close to eight months. When she complained that her little, blue sports car was becoming too small for her and her bundle, Ben had said, “Yeah, that is what you expect when you let your behind grow that fat.” Johanna had smarted under the rebuke and denied herself food for an entire day. At the end of it, she had not felt lighter, but she avoided talking to Ben about weight and pregnancy until after the child was born and she had gone back to her usual weight. It wasn’t until then that they were man and wife again anyway.
Johanna had learnt that rule number one of being a good wife was to always look amazing for your husband, especially when his friends were coming around. She smiled until her jaws ached and she never left his side. By the time the guests started arriving, the catering company would have everything running like a well-oiled machine.
Last Saturday started off like any other. Johanna stood beside Ben as the guests started trickling in; the bar tenders had set up a bar in the garden and it wasn’t long before they were in full business. The waiters walked around serving up Hors d’oeuvres. The low hum of active conversation lent the warm night a nice, cozy feeling and Johanna felt pride at how well this party was turning out.
It therefore came as a shock when Ben smacked her across the mouth as soon as the last guest had shut the door. The blow caught her unawares and launched her across the room, where she bumped into the wall. Johanna was stunned for a moment. She touched her broken lip and looked questioningly at Ben.
“What now?” She asked in dismay.
Ben lunged at her without saying a word. He was quivering with rage.
“No, no, no…” She protested weakly as he grabbed her with one hand and started pounding her around the head with the other. What started as a low protest rose into helpless yelps and then into blood curdling screams as the pain became unbearable.
Unlucky for her, some guests were still saying goodbye in the parking lot, and they’d come rushing back in to find out what the matter was. The female busybodies had driven her straight to hospital, called the cops and now insisted on visiting every day. They said they wanted to help her break the cycle of abuse, she said they wanted to break up her marriage. How many times had she nursed her wounds at home and sprung back as good as new? No one would ever have known. Not even her children. She wished she hadn’t screamed so loud.
http://www.timepostoffice.com/timelog/posts/2736/the-denial/
