My Husband Betrays Me in My Dreams
And other subconscious marital fears.
It’s extremely complicated. I cheat on him—or he believes that I have. There’s something about a boat trip that ends in a tangle of lies and a water-soaked shirt, held up in malicious triumph, as evidence. (In my sleep-muddled mind, I don’t know for certain either way. Don’t I get seasick on boats?) Anyway, it’s all very cinematic.
Then, in the dream, my husband throws the divorce papers at me, like a crisp bouquet. “Isn’t this what you want?” When he walks away, dust rises from his heels, forming the gray wings of an avenging angel behind him. It’s epic, which should have been my first clue. Our marriage is lovely, but it is rarely epic.
Dream Husband moves on with a leather-clad siren on a motorcycle who smirks at me through perfect Ruby-Woo-red lips. They throw a birthday party for my daughter without inviting me, though I slink past their home in an old sedan, watching my daughter jump in the sunshine. I mouth her name, but no sound comes out.
When I wake, I feel like my heart has broken in the night. I turn in bed to my real-life husband, glaring at the rise and fall of his steady breath. What a cad. When I’m mad, I use slightly archaic insults. The modern ones won’t do.
Once, when I turned on my husband after a betrayal dream, his eyes widened. “What did I do?”
“It’s not you,” I hiss. “It’s Dream Husband.”
He groans. “I really hate that guy.”