It is now close to six months ago when I took a crazy leap into the unknown. My only companion being faith, trust and a love I believed in. The words, -”Why don’t you marry her?”- felt like a stranger violating my speech and abusing my voice to manipulate an emotion filled situation. What was I to do; think? It had to be a divine intervention. What other explanation can be ascribed when a sane, normal and happily married woman suggests that her husband of almost two decades, marry another woman? Have I lost it or was there a bigger hand at play here. In my defense I have to declare that the woman I proposed my husband to marry was my best friend.
After lengthy discussions between two, three and two, we came to the conclusion that this is what we wanted. I coached, guided, advised my husband how to court his soon to be new bride. His courting skills rusty, forgotten and awkward. Step by step I did it. The sweet worded sms. The well-timed phone call. The odd bunch of flowers. And constant reminders of sweet words, appropriate compliments and romantic and sweet actions to enhance and help blossom this new and growing love. All the while being an onlooker on something beautiful between two people I love dearly and deeply. I could see the love blossoming. My husband smiling, whispering and missing his new love. The excitement in his eyes at the thought of seeing her; the sweetness in his voice when he spoke to her. I step aside. I make space for them. This is a good thing. My friend is glowing, she seem happy for the first time. I knew he would be the right person to heal her wounds and take away her pain. I see her growing into a bold and daring butterfly. Only remnants of the once fearful person she was is still visible from time to time. I did good. I got those I love to love even more.