We Belong

We Belong

Money! It's always about money-or the lack of it, the endless argument that's plagued our twenty years of marriage.

Our latest was sparked off by Karren replacing a chest freezer. She never told me. I had to plug the rupture in our leaking bank account with funds put aside to replace our bald tyres. The inevitable confrontation led to harsh words. Defensive postures were taken, and battle lines were drawn. The careless spendthrift thinks I'm an overbearing-control-freak.

Huh!

Two days since and a wall of silence grows across the demilitarized zone. A virtual trench runs through the centre of our bed as we each cling to our separate sides. God forbid, we accidentally touch.

This evening, we're attending a wedding reception. It's warm outside but frosty inside the car. The street lights undulate across Karen's face to the tap-tap-tap of her long red painted nails drumming the dashboard. Jaw muscles clenching, she stares ahead in a blinkered glare. Her quick exit from the car as we arrive outside the crowded hall confirms this will be another of those memorable nights.

Unaccompanied, I mingle with friends and congratulate the bride and groom. Foolish kids who have no idea what they've signed up to. "They'll learn," I mutter as I catch a glimpse of my bride in her long flowing blue dress, talking to an acquaintance. I pause, watching the grace of her movements as she leans into a friend, her hand caressing the woman's arm. Her face shines in laughter, her blue eyes sparkle. Pinning a strand of her blond hair behind an ear, she catches my stare. For an instant, her face hardens into a frown, and she turns away from me.

A slap on the back, a familiar voice and I bury my troubles in welcomed comradeship. After a brief exchange, I move on. I notice Karen staring at me as she sips a glass of Champaign. Her eyes narrowed, she frowns, studying me. Someone takes my arm, and I'm swept up in greeting an old friend.

A glass of wine shared, and my mate is distracted by another. Through the crowd, I gaze at Karen in animated conversation. I follow her hands as they travel down the folds of her dress and admire the curve of her waist. As though she can feel my stare, she looks my way furrowing her brow. My heart thumps as a half-smile creases her face before she's drawn into conversation.

The first dance is announced, and I watch the newlyweds pace around the dance floor. I'm fixated by their youth, their innocence, the image of Karen and I two decades ago. Eyes for one another, we belonged to each other. The dance ends to our applause, and Karen's hand brushes the small of my back before her hot breath tickles my ear, whispering, "Will we dance?"

Looking into her inviting eyes, I know as I always have, no matter what happens, we will always belong to each other.