My cherry that I call Berry.

Polar and I have been married for eleven years now. We have a 4-yr-old daughter named Berry.

Scooting back to 1996, Polar proposed me under the rusty expanse of autumn in San Francisco, California. Before the proposal, we had been friends for two years. In those two years, Polar had become my best friend, my confidante and someone I could fully trust. I lost both my parents to a roadside accident when I was just 13. Since then, I was residing in Belmont, a suburb in California with my maternal grandmother. Polar filled attractive colors in my life like a rainbow does to the sky after rain.

Exactly eight months after Polar proposed me, we married. Our wedding bells rang in a rather simplistic manner. Clustered in the church were close friends and family members that included my maternal aunts and uncles. After marriage, I moved to Seattle with Polar; where we inaugurated our matrimonial bond in a delicious fashion. 

Right after my marriage, I began my job at Seattle Times as a Chief Editor. While Polar worked as a litigator in Pearson Thomas, a renowned law firm. We managed our work routine and married life diligently, achieving just the perfect balance that was required for our bond to grow. Both of us would be home by 6 o clock in the evening. Following that, we got evenings to each other. Life was more beautiful than I had ever thought it to be. Polar brought so much contentment in my life that my heart bloomed with joy. All those years of hardship, loneliness and lack of parental love was compensated by him. Albeit I had spent a good amount of time without Polar, the time that we spent together was so fulfilling that even all the years I spent in his absence were no longer empty of him. Sometimes, we went for a movie after work, theatre or an amusement park to unwind. On weekends, we cooked for each other, visited friends, invited them over, finished home chores, shopped for the week, paid our utility bills and played basketball. The first summer that followed our marriage, we went to Belize for honeymoon. Upon our return, we took ballet class together. While the entire team was free to chose a partner, my partner was my man who consolidated the true meaning of my existence. Every time we danced, I fell into his arms and he held on to me tighter than he did before. Every time we were face to face on the floor, just exchanging a look clenched the muscles south of my body. 

With each passing day, we fell deeper in love. I came to realize that love lies in all the practical things that one does with their partner and not just behind closed doors and drawn curtains. 

Six years in our marriage had lapsed when we decided to have a child. It was a well-thought decision and Polar and I began to accordingly mould our lives to welcome our child. Berry, when first laid eyes on us, changed our lives forever. It wasn’t only a birth of a child; but there was a mother who was born inside me. I gushed in tears of happiness. Immediately, I held her tight in my arms and I knew what I had lacked in life—love of a mother. Polar, on the other hand was delighted to have a daughter. Berry and I became his focus and road map. His elation knew no bounds. To be honest, every time that he smiled, I immersed into an increasing sense of gladness. That feeling was matchless. When I think of it today, it still gives me jitters.

In few months time, Berry turned from a pink just-born baby to a cute looking, innocent child. She had Polar’s eyes and my hair—her curly locks of hair beautifully rolled down her ears. With Berry, we held hopes. Her arrival had brought Polar and I much closer.

Life went on as Berry grew up. Rather slowly, but immense workload hit Polar. Pearson Thompson underwent some crucial stages of dismemberment. Clients were blistering at the company’s performance and withdrew all their deals. Some heavy-duty work schedules followed the turmoil and Polar had no choice but to succumb to his colleagues and clients. There were days when Polar returned home at 11 o clock in the night and other days when he didn’t show up at all.

One night as I muffled myself out of my blanket, half-asleep, I opened my eyes and looked around, Polar lay asleep next to me with his tie half-done and his laces undone. He was fast asleep. The excruciating migraine he went through at work the entire day reflected on his skin. He was clearly exhausted and consumed to his brim. Meanwhile, Berry was deprived of her father’s company and I tried to fill in for Polar as much as I could. But well, a child needs a mother the most, but she also needs a father. 

I turned my face and just when I was about to clamber in bed again, a scrap of paper was stuck on my side table that read, “Ice, please wake me up at 6 am.” The note was left by Polar. I waited for the clock to struck 6. 

Few months passed and life had now become stagnant. I was almost raising Berry like a single parent. Except when a month commenced, Polar credited a sum of money in my bank account. My husband was lost in the chronicles of being a litigator. Somehow, I knew, something wasn’t right. As much as I conformed to the commanding nature of his job, I knew he was drifting away from me. It felt like ages when he last looked me in my eyes, embraced me and Berry, took us out for a dinner or even had a meal at home. Every night I cooked something fancy hoping Polar would return at a decent time. But now, my hopes were distilling. 

Surprisingly, I wasn’t angry at him. But there was hurt, breakdown of sentiments and a pervasive heartache. I still hoped he would return to me one day with a bouquet full of fresh, romantic scented flowers and cuddle Berry in his arms.

“Dew has come into my life”, read Polar’s text message one day while I was at work. Yes, my husband had fallen for another woman. The feeling shook the ground beneath my feet. I stood rooted in disdain. I snapped my computer and left office instantly. I picked Berry from the day care centre and rushed home. In no time, I was home. To my surprise, Polar hadn’t gone to work that day. He glumly sat on the stairs and came running towards me to hold Berry just when I stepped in. I rigidly whisked upstairs to our bedroom. Berry was confused and her little mind put her entire energy to interpret what was going on. 

Few minutes later, I made my way downstairs to confront Polar. I was fierce and frazzled as I could be. But slowly, he approached me, held my hand and entwined my fingers. Just when I jerked my arm to set myself free, he curled down in between my shoulders and sobbed uncontrollably. I was shocked and clueless. I didn’t feel good. I had had a meltdown. I was devastated and despondent; not because my love was withering away, but because the one and only man of my life was in an ungovernable misery. I held Polar closely after a long gap. As much as I felt satiated, I was torn in between my soul. He apologetically uttered a few words and detailed me about himself and Dew.  I knew off the bat that he wanted to marry her. Howbeit, that didn’t necessarily mean he would leave Berry and I for good—did it? I wasn't sure.

As days progressed, I gathered the scattered pieces of my soul—that were once put together by Polar—myself. One evening when I stepped home, there was a bouquet in my name with a little side note to it. It read, “Ice, I understand the grounds womanhood rests upon. I know, for you, sharing your husband will be an impossible feat. As much as I am joyous over the decision to marry Polar, I stand convicted in your court and I shall remain here till you forgive me with a full heart. Regretfully, Dew.” 

I stood speechless. Once again, I was taken aback. Crushed to extreme, my energy pooled down at my feet and I paused in my tracks. Polar was finally marrying Dew. But that’s what I wanted, after all, didn’t I? I had been on the quest to guard my husband against social and societal cult and apparently, marriage deemed the most suitable weapon to fight it. 

All this while, Berry had gone ignored. The massive struggle my soul and mind went through to rejuvenate myself was colossal in terms of energy and spirit. Three weeks later, Polar and Dew married and moved to another apartment in downtown in the midst of the high-class, exotic life of Seattle. Berry and I continued to reside downhill in a relatively calmer neighborhood. Life really doesn’t give us too many options at times—does it? Under the dark and daunting roof, all on my own, all I had was Berry. Eventually, I negotiated with reality; however at my sweet pace. Dew’s intervention in my husband’s life now grew familiar so long as Polar maintained an intimate bond with Berry. By now, I had become the forth and unneeded vertex of the triangle.

Currently, I head a team of journalists at Seattle Times. My career is at the peak of excellence. I attend office thrice a week and spend the two remaining working days with Berry and our little circle of friends. Just last week, Berry started school. Polar, along with a present for Berry came to drop her off with me.

What killed me once has made me stronger. I can ascertain that I don’t need Polar to raise Berry now. But more than that, Berry needs a father. The bright side of what feels like a tragedy is that Polar has flourished an independent relationship with Berry.  Every Friday afternoon, Polar takes Berry out and they spend the evening together. He drops her back around 8 o clock. 

The last two years of my life have been most challenging and unrelenting. Every time that I planted a seed, it withered because the soil was unhealthy. But now, my efforts have borne fruit. Accepting Dew was solely my decision. No one ever extended an arm neither did I require one. I have a decent circle of friends I hang out with every fortnight. Most of my time is dedicated to my job and Berry—my only hope in life.

Once in every four to six months, I visit my grandmother in Belmont. She is growing weaker by the day as old age is overpowering her. Sometimes, she comes down to Seattle to visit us. Every time that I see her, she rages about what Polar did to me in fury. But how far does that impact my life? Trust me, not one bit. My feelings for Polar are rather stronger now. He is happy in his life he has catalyzed with Dew. Since I have wanted to see him happy, come whatever, I have set him free by every sense of the word.

Now, Polar and I barely interact. Usually, it is about Berry, whenever that is. Hopelessness takes me over infrequently. I still weep buckets when I miss Polar and that feeling of resting my head on his shoulder is still irreplaceable. Berry questions me as to why he is absent. But I find my answers in knowing that he’s content in what he has and he has what he wanted. As for me, I am yet to attain the best life has in store for me. 

Our love wasn’t all that a tragedy. It just had to go through the unusual obstacles that lovers face. 

Holding her brings me the solace that fills up my heart.