I love Jeanny, I’ll always love her. She hasn’t been well lately. Not since, after the accident. I’m afraid that she thinks it was my fault, though she didn’t say anything. She wouldn’t say anything that would hurt me. She loves me; just as I love her.
Yes, I’ll tell you about it, if you wish to hear. It was night when it happened. About three weeks ago – around eleven. We were driving home from Mike’s place. It was Karen’s birthday and they had asked us over for a drink.
Oh yes, I had been drinking. Not a lot. Not enough to make me lose control of my car. It was raining hard, I remembered. And the air was very cold. Jeanny was humming to the tune on the iPod, tapping her foot to the rhythm, when suddenly she screamed, very loudly with a sense of urgency: “Look out!”
And then it happened – the thud, the smashing of glass and Jeanny’s screaming mingling into the blackness.
She hasn’t spoken to me since. Oh no, we haven’t had a quarrel or something. Please don’t think that. We’ve never argued ever since our marriage – except for the time I asked her to give up her job as a research assistant, but we didn’t argue for long. I told you – we love each other. She loves me and I love her. I’ll always love her.
Why hasn’t she spoken to me then? Probably it was the shock – of the accident. It took her speech away. Very soon, when she has recovered, she will speak to me again.
Jeanny was so lively before, that to see her now upsets me very much. Every now and then, I will lift her out of bed, dress her and sit her up in the chair by the window. I don’t do this very often as I’m afraid she may catch cold. When night falls, I would kiss her gently on the cheek and tell her that she will soon be well again.
A doctor? No! I will call no doctors. They will try to take Jeanny away from me again. Like they did before – just after the accident. They said it would be better for both of us if they took her away. How can they say that?
I got her back though. I found out where they had taken her and brought her home. I want her here with me. When you love someone as much as I love Jeanny, you’ll realise how much it means to me to have her with me.
Nobody comes to see her now. A few people came to see me, but they never mention Jeanny. They’re afraid of upsetting me, it seems. I never bring her down when they’re around. She doesn’t need other people’s company. She needs only me – my love and affection.
She will soon be well again. Then it will be just like old times – eating ice cream in front of the TV, going for a stroll at the park where she would throw her arms around my neck. “Honey, I love you so,” she would say. And I would look at her. Look into her Stygian-black eyes. Dark eyes. As dark as night.
As dark as it was on the night of the accident. As dark as it was on the night, a week later, when I dug her body up from the graveyard and brought her home.
I love Jeanny. I’ll always love her – always.
