A Battle Unseen

[Doc]

Cliff House, 3:52 PM, a Saturday

Mary slept soundly on the couch, with classical music playing on the stereo. She didn't even hear Martin getting ready to leave. He was going on a month long fishing trip in Gaduridos. It was amicable between the two, but he felt that he could come and go, and Mary stopped noticing. There were good family dinners, but he was pretty sure she didn't really love him anymore. Or had she really ever? Mary was always more interested in being alone, and sometimes when she would go to Wood House or the Ananto Estate without him, he would stay in Kaliburg, and visit friends, and then when he went to see her, she acted like she didn't even realize he wasn't there.

Friends, Martin thought... They were friendly enough. There were women. He'd never really betrayed their trust in their marriage, but he had always gotten the feeling that Mary sort of wished he would. A few of these friends would accompany him to Gaduridos. He actually enjoyed their company: they laughed at his jokes, while his wife had no sense of humor whatsoever. They encouraged him to follow is passions, while Mary only ever told him to submit receipts.

He had long come to the understanding that what he and his wife had was what others call a marriage of convenience, but it was otherwise pretty loveless. But he couldn't divorce her or cheat on her, because that would create a full scandal. And he cared too much about her to ever do that to her. He cared: She was surrounded by people who loved her. She was the sun, everyone around her merely reflected her bright but very cold light. Her husband, her sister, her children, her staff, her government, her people, they were all the same to her. They craved her warmth, but she never had any to give. She cared for her trees, she protected her nation. She beautified herself and the things she dwelt in, but people? She had very little use for them.

So Martin stayed in her orbit, and was careful about who he was seen out with, or whose care he accepted. He kept it together for the kids, to whom he showered all the love on that Mary would not allow showed to her. At least they would have a father. When they were grown and on their feet, Martin would ask Mary for a separation. Eight more years.

As he was lost in thought he heard steps behind him. He turned around, surprised to see his wife, the dread, illuminated, glittering Empress of Ananto and Kalistan--even in her disheveled weekend clothes, she looked terrifying and magnificent and beautiful and cold. "Are you off to Vintalli then?" she asked.

"Yes, I am. I have a 5pm flight."

"Is Whitney going down with you?" she asked, about one of the less secret of his secret friends.

"She is and Kathryn and Carl..." admitted Martin.

Mary nodded ever so slightly and Martin could almost see the corner of her lip upturn a tiny bit as if she was proud of herself for guessing.

"Be safe, Martin," she said as he began to turn toward the door. "Send the kids a postcard and some pictures if you get some time."

"Will you be here when I return?" he asked.

"I don't go into residence at Wood House until May, so we'll definitely be here. I may go visit my mother in Luxon at the end of the month, but if so, I'll see you when I get back."

Martin paused before leaving. "Mary, are you happy?"

Mary smiled slightly and shook her head slowly. The question brought a tear to her eyes, but she choked it back. Martin put his bag on the ground and opened his arms and offered her a hug. She wiped the tear away and smiled pathetically. "Nothing is how I thought it would be," she said. "I'm sorry Martin. I'm sure you probably thought you would live a different life by now too."

Martin knew she was right, but didn't want to upset his wife. "I am living the life I was destined to live."

Mary, in his embrace, looked up at him. "We all are. It's a trap."

"Would you like me to cancel my trip?" asked Martin. He tried to sound sincere, but he had asked the question dreading her answer.

Mary shook her head and said, "No, making you miserable won't make me feel good at all. I want you to go. I want you to go have fun. Be with your friends. Do things that make you feel good about being alive. I have things I have to do here anywhere, and don't want you hovering around here all the time."

The verbal push out the door didn't hurt Martin anymore. That was Mary thinking she was being witty. It didn't hurt anymore. It was just her way of saying goodbye to him. Martin broke the hug and Mary immediately put more than an arm's distance between them. She realized how abrupt the movement was and smiled to try to change the subject. "Have a safe flight ok? I always am scared of... well, you know... whenever you fly..."

Martin picked up his bag and walked toward the door. "I'll see you next time," he said half jokingly, repeating something she used to say to him when she would go to another house. She smiled.

As he closed the door behind him to head for the car, an idea appeared in his mind: He was tiptoeing around something both of them seemed to know. There was so much left unsaid in their relationship. He wondered if she was playing a role in their relationship that she was not comfortable with like he was. Perhaps next time he would simply ask her about it.