Me, My Husband And A Little Dirty Secret

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I have a secret, a really big secret. I promise to tell you. But I want you to trust me. You should trust me, I’m nice.

Five months ago, mark and I went on a date. It was a special day to celebrate our 1year wedding anniversary. I remember that day like it was yesterday. June 31st 2010. It was a Monday morning. I woke up feeling extremely happy. Though I was kind of tired, probably because of the mini-party we had the night before. Mark and I had planned to go to the most beautiful and expensive restaurant in the city. Mark wore a red suit and black shoes. His wristwatch matched the color of his suit. He looked really attractive. Anita, our house-help also complemented his good looks and dressing.

We took the black Toyota corolla, I felt comfortable in it. Mark and I didn’t say a word to each other until we got to the restaurant. Big and expensive cars were parked outside. Obviously, the restaurant was meant for rich people. We sat down on our reserved chair. Mark started the conversation. “Do you remember the first time I took you on a date?” He said “For sure, I remember. Why would I forget. I paid the bills” I responded. We both laughed about it. I was about to tell mark that I have been promoted in work when Anita’s call came in. Mark stared at his phone for about 10 seconds, he obviously didn’t want to answer it. “Why don’t you answer it, she might want to tell you something really important” I said. Mark didn’t respond. Anita called three more times, before mark answered and said he was in the middle of something important. She sent a message; I saw the notification from where I was sitting.

we ate the Moroccan Fennel Salad, Mark’s best food. Few minutes later, mark felt the urge to use the toilet. He rushed off, leaving his phone on the table. Markthemortal, that was his password. I didn’t want to go through his phone, I was just concerned about Anita. She might need something important. After five minutes, mark came back. There was a sign of relief on his face.

“Let’s go to the lakeside” I said to him. Mark and I do visit the lakeside every Sunday. It was like a family ritual. “Why? We went yesterday. But if you insist. I’ll do anything for my beautiful queen” he said. We parked the car in the usual spot, not too far from the lake. I took the cricket bat from the car, I really don’t know why, but I felt I’d need it. We sat down and talked about so many things; life, family, cars, angels, gods, and even our plan to have a baby. After 2 hours of talking, I went to the car to return the cricket bat. When I came back, mark was gone. Just gone.
It was a horrible shock to everyone, because people don’t just disappear, it was really surprising. The police launched an investigation. They sent out the best team. Families were so worried. The neighborhood watch sent out several search parties, but no one ever found evidence to indicate what had happened to him. Our families tried everything they could. Gradually people stopped searching. Seems they had given up. The updates from the police reduced and dwindled away. Our families accepted that Mark wasn’t coming back. I also gave up.

Five days ago, I was in the back garden watering my vegetables when I heard the gate open. I jerked my head in that direction and there he was, standing still. In the exact clothes he wore the last time we saw. My jaw dropped. I was really shocked.

Friends and families had mourned him, and yet there he was standing still with a smile on his face like he had just came back from the store.

Everyone was so excited. All our distanced family and friends came over to our place. They almost cannot believe it. But that is exactly the point; I DON’T

I was just so confused. No one would believe me. I can’t go report to the police unless I want to end up behind bars. I really don’t know if I should be happy like everyone else. I was terrified.

Everything was so confusing. I’m sure of just one thing; the man sleeping next to me is not my husband. He Is not Mark the mortal.
I know I might sound a little crazy, but I’m not. I’m dead sure.

Okay, just let me explain why I’m sure this isn’t Mark. Once I have done that, hopefully someone will understand and tell me what to do.

The next morning after mark came home, it was a Saturday, a work-free day. I made French fries for breakfast. Mark loved French fries; it was not his favorite but he loved it. When I served him, he looked at me with a scary glare and smiled afterwards. And he took the barbecue sauce. Anita was still surprised by his return. She is already 5 months pregnant. I was still in shock too, so I didn’t think more of it that time, but it’s been playing in my mind ever since. I know it is not really significant, but my husband never uses barbecue sauce, he prefers tomato sauce, due to reasons best known to him.

Then on Sunday, after mass, we were supposed to go for our weekly ritual, but mark drove home straight. I didn’t remind him, he never forgets stuffs like this. It is just so surprising.

The final nail in the coffin, proverbially speaking, was Anita. Anita started working as our house help one month after our weeding. Not for once has mark asked about her nor chatted with her talk less of smiling at her. But today, Mark smiled at her and asked her how she was doing.

I know what you must be thinking. If he fell down a mountain or something, he must’ve had a brain injury that caused him to forget some things and act differently.

But you know why I’m sure this is not my husband? He doesn’t have a scar on his forehead, shaped like the cricket bat I hit him with. But there’s nothing. His forehead is so smooth. Honestly, I’m so close to going out to the lakeside tonight and digging up the underground I covered just to make sure he’s still there.

The big secret; mark and I use to dig up a secret underground anytime we visit the lakeside. We did it alone. No one ever saw us doing that. We never told anyone. It was our dirty little secret.