Ashamed

Her husband is shallow. Her father had always asked, "Why did you marry that scoundrel?" She could not remember. All she could remember was before she met him, back then she was vivacious. She radiated beauty like the sun radiated light. She used to saunter through the crowd like she was a star, they adored her.

Now she watched the stars drift through the sky and sighed. Her husband had told her that she was no longer sufficient, but what did he know, living in his constant euphoria. She had come home from her mom's early once, only to find confetti all over the bedroom floor and a hastily shed negligee night- gown peeking out from under the bed. She has asked him about it but he only yelled, "How am I supposed to surprise you when you come home early?" He had been angry that his deed had been exposed, as if her mind had been so opaque that she did not already know what was going on.

She now seemed to be overshadowed all the time, she never smiled, the radiance that she had once possessed had been drained out of her. Her life had become full of pretence and shame. She already knew why she never confronted him. She walked with her head down, haunted by this trap that had, long ago, been love.