Perfect Husband

"Ah, so annoying. Feri is coming home today. I have to prepare everything to welcome him," I muttered reluctantly as I got out of bed and got ready to shower. Earlier, before taking a nap, I had already cooked.

"Serving the husband, kisses, hugs... Ugh, disgusting!" I grumbled again as I let the water soak my body. After finishing my shower, I put on makeup and perfume. I did this because of an incident in the past. Feri was furious when he saw me looking messy, sweaty, and unkempt the last time he came home.

It's not that I don't care, but as far as I understand sex, I simply can't enjoy it with Feri. It's confusing. I've heard on TV or read in magazines that physical intimacy is supposed to feel incredible, like floating in the air. But honestly, I swear, all I feel is disgust and pain. I don't understand why my husband thinks it's so important.

For me, not having to do it is a blessing. It's pure torment, truly! What should I do? I've even considered asking Feri to marry another woman because of how burdened I feel with this emotional responsibility toward him.

Drrrrt Drrrrt...

My phone vibrated on the nightstand. Reflexively, I glanced at it and answered the call.

"Yes?"

"Ina, I'm almost home. Have you gotten ready? I miss you."

I rolled my eyes lazily.

"Yes... I have."

---

"Ina, I'm sure. You can heal, your trauma will fade, and you won't suffer anymore when we're together," he said. I let out a heavy sigh and replied,

"I hope that can happen."

"Alright, wait for me at home." My heart pounded as I heard his words before he hung up. I put the phone down and immediately started trembling, imagining Feri approaching me with his desires. For some reason, it made me feel deeply uncomfortable. I couldn't even accept his touch. All I could think about was pain.

"Ugh... Damn it!" I muttered, covering my ears. The sound of Feri's breathing and voice during intimacy felt revolting to me. Why does this feel so unbearable? I can't live peacefully like this.

For two years of marriage, Feri has tried to help me and reassure me that I'm different. He says all women want this-affection, touches, and most importantly, emotional maturity. But what's wrong with me? I even wish I could be free from him. If only Feri would divorce me and leave me for another woman, I would feel so relieved. I can't bear this emotional torment anymore. I don't enjoy it at all. I hate it; I'm disgusted by it.

Click...

The sound of the bedroom door opening startled me, and I hadn't even realized that Feri was already home. I stood frozen, wide-eyed, leaning against the table to steady myself as I trembled. Seeing my expression, Feri instinctively came closer and embraced me.

"It's okay, sweetheart. I don't want anything right now. I just want to see you," he whispered. I tried to catch my breath and looked into his eyes.

"Have you eaten? Come on, let's eat first," I said, trying to stand and distance myself from him as I walked out of the bedroom toward the dining room.

If this were a movie I often watched, a man like Feri would be every woman's dream. But why can't I feel the same way as other women? My husband is handsome, with tan skin and a strong, muscular build. His sharp, piercing eyes, thick eyebrows, and sexy lips are captivating. His square face, accentuated by a prominent nose and dimples on his cheeks, perfectly fits the standard of a good-looking man.

Yet, I feel nothing. Not the beauty of love I've seen in movies or read about in romantic stories. What's wrong with me? Am I truly broken beyond repair? Feri has been incredibly patient with me, enduring my tears and struggles whenever he approaches me in the bedroom. He even chooses not to touch me for fear of upsetting my mood.

"Feri... Maybe you should find another woman to fulfill your needs," I said as we shared dinner. Instantly, Feri froze, his hand holding the spoon mid-air.

"I can't," he replied briefly. I fell silent for a moment before speaking again.

"Feri, I feel burdened by all of this! I'm suffering. I can't fulfill my responsibilities. You understand that, don't you?" I said. My husband looked at me with a blank expression and replied,

"You'll heal... So stop bringing this up. You've talked about divorce far too many times!" he groaned.

"But this is for my sake! Do I have to beg you? You don't know what it's like to be me, so you don't understand!" I snapped. Feri slammed his spoon on the table and said,

Clang...

"And do you think you understand me, Ina? This isn't easy for me either. I'm suffering too. You know I'm normal, right? You're just dealing with trauma right now, sweetheart. It can be healed," he explained, his voice heavy with frustration. I fell silent, staring into his eyes.

"Two years isn't a short time. Instead of healing, my trauma has only gotten worse. I was happier with the freedom I had before marriage-no sex and no burdens. I was far happier," I said. For a moment, Feri looked at me with a pained expression.

"I can't replace you," he murmured. I sighed and tried to make myself clear.

"Can't you just let me go?" I said, my eyes filled with hope.

Clang...

The spoon hit the wall again. I flinched slightly, surprised by my husband's anger.

"Stop talking nonsense, Ina!" he snapped. I took a deep breath and chose to remain silent, deciding not to say anything more.

Two hours had passed since dinner. I was lying on the bed while my husband was in the bathroom, cleaning himself. My heart was pounding as I waited for him to come out. I knew he would ask me to fulfill his needs soon. For some reason, my blood raced, and my chest felt like it was in turmoil.