The Shadow of A Husband

By Madelynn Ramm

In the light stands a man, and in his shadow cowers a woman. When he shines, she experiences his warmth but when the light dims… a chill skitters down her skin. 

A good-natured man with a brilliant mind for business. Highly regarded as a talented sir with a most pious wife. Painted as the perfect couple: a successful husband and his feminine wife. 

But the truth is hidden behind lies, smiles and social practices. A wife should not talk, and a wife should not hold grand ideas. A wife should be faithful and gentle. But despite her constant accordance with the rules, his rage is inescapable.

Her face was not enthusiastic enough. She was too loud. Her dress, too revealing. Her jewels, too modest. Was she trying to embarrass him? Why can’t she do anything right? 

His hand clenched her wrist. His voice raised, his forehead red. Spit landed on her neck; she flinched at the sudden feeling. His anger unsoothable, he pulled her arm, bringing her closer. Scrunched eyes brimmed with tears. Stretched lips frothed with salvia. The servants bowed their heads at the tense and depressing scene. 

A visitor arrived at the door. He let go of her hand, fixed his appearance and stormed off. Welcoming the visitor with a polite and bright smile, as if nothing exciting had just occurred. He began business, an act, far too easily. 

Left alone, she silently returned to her room. Once the visitor left, the sun had begun to set. He barged into her room complaining about her lack of propriety. A wife must bring guests tea and offer warm greetings. All of which she failed to do. His nagging left her breathless. Nodding her head in submission, she exhaled. Taking her bowed head as an admission of her guilt, his hand flew across the room. A sharp and clean sound resonated off the empty walls. Walls which should have been lavishly decorated. 

‘My apologies, Lord Husband.’ She stumbled to stand straight. 

With a huff he left. As she floated into her seat, he returned once more. She stood up, heart racing. His eyes were calculating, there was a mixture of lust and malevolence painted upon his harsh countenance. Tearing her from her place he threw her on the bed and began to have his way. Helpless against his size and weight she lay there convenient to his desires. For a wife should be silent. A wife should be complacent, gentle and faithful. 

With the shake of the mattress her tears fell unnoticed. He breathed in her scent as he penetrated her soul. Stabbing her over and over. Unlike his harshness, his voice spoke out gentle. 

‘My love. Oh, how I love you, my dear.’ 

She fell asleep in his revolting embrace. Finding escape in her dreams. A place where she was loud, bright, happy, and unmarried. Her solace momentary until the light awoke her, reminding her of the shadow she was chained to.

By Madelynn Ramm