The Monster (My Best Friend Eminem, My Husband Marshall Mathers)

Chapter thirty-six

Chapter thirty-six

            I couldn’t pull myself to go inside the house. I sat in the car wondering if I should turn around and sleep at the studio where I could think straight. Should I give her a chance to explain herself? Maybe I’m overacting. Maybe she was out with a co-worker, but it was no excuse to keep the fight at school with Hailie from me. Feeling like I have no choice, I went inside. The warm air hit my face, feeling the sting of the cold air still on me. I removed my boots and my jacket, placing them on the side of the wall.

            The house was quiet and deserted. I was tempted to call Natalia’s name even though I have nothing but disgust towards her. The front door opened as Natalia walked in, beige trench coat, brown wool hat with matching gloves. She had her hands full of bags from the grocery store and a bag that read “Forever 21”. She struggled entering the front door, out of breath and frustrated.

            She placed the stuff on the floor as she removed everything and placed it next it to my coat.

“I’m sorry I’m late honey, I had to return something that Hailie got me for Christmas…I love how she still thinks I can fit into teen clothes…” she said, out of breath.

I chuckled, “Forever 21 is not your speed” I said softly. “The thought counts though.” She placed a soft kiss on my lips, pulling away when I did not show my affection back. She looked at me slightly puzzled knowing it’s not my usual actions, normally scooping her into my arms and pressing her to my lips. I glared at her coldly, how she dare kiss me, when her lips have been on another mans.

            Not minding me, she walked into the kitchen turning on the kitchen lights as she goes to the refrigderator for a bottle of cold water, drinking it as if she was desperate for it.

“Oh God, I was so thirsty” she said, gasping. I stood watching her move about the kitchen, putting a pre-made dinner into the oven.

“Did you see the kids yet?” she asked. “Uh, no I just got in myself” I said.

“Oh.” My anger towards her suddenly grew; I wanted to do something terrible to her. The mere thought though gave me a twisting irritating feeling in my stomach. How could I do that to her?

            My lips trembled as the thought terrified me. “Dinner will be ready in a few, did Dre like the new song?” she asked.

“Hmm,” snapping out of my daze, “Oh yeah, um he did…he thinks it should go on my next album.”

“Next album?” She questions.

“Yeah, you might like it…something of your speed” I said. “Anything you make I like” she flirted.

Ignoring her complement, as the angry thoughts continued, “I’m gonna go rest upstairs, is that alright?”

“Yeah, honey…I’ll call ya down when dinner is ready” she said, giving me a kiss before ascending upstairs.

            My thoughts grew even more violent, about Natalia. I haven’t felt this angry since Kim. Closing the studio door behind me and going into the studio booth, locking myself in. I began to think. On cold days like this, and in Detroit, coming home from my short-order cook job to my wife Kim and my daughter Hailie only a baby still. My face, nothing like it is now, slightly chubbier, not having the tattoos I have now. My hair brown like it is now. Dragging my feet out of my car and into the house.

            The house cold from not paying the gas bill yet, causing me to put on my coat. The living room TV on with some of Hailie’s baby toys about. Hailie’s crib placed aside the couch, as she stood up in it. Her pacifier in her mouth, with her blonde hair in pintails.

“Hey Hailie” picking her up and placing a kiss on her forehead, “Hi baby.” At the time, Natalia was only a couple years old herself, only to discover me later on the following year. The kitchen light was left on, as I put Hailie back into her crib and made my way into the kitchen. Kim sat at the kitchen table, with a look of diqust. I was used to be greeted coldly from coming home from a ten hour shift.

            “Did you bring home the dippers?” She would ask. Forgetting to stop at the store and not having a lie-proof to say I did and slipping to grab them later, I was in for it, afraid of the bruises to appear on me. Turning around from the empty fridge, I put my arms to my side and said,

“Sorry I must’ve forgot too…I can go back out” I mumbled, knowing it’ll be unacceptable.  

“How can you forget dippers for your own daughter?” She shouted. The sharp pain growing inside of my head when she threw the coffee mug almost missing my temple, the massive ear ache that ringed for days when anyone spoke, and the darkened blue marks on my arm could never be explained.

            Now I feel doing the same to Natalia. My anger, my rage, everything was building up, my fist turning to large balls, squeezing them till my veins began to show through my skin.

“Dad! Dad” Ronnie shouted running through my studio. My anger and rage suddenly subsided at the sound of my son’s voice. My veins retracted into my body and I stood opening the door.

“Yeah, buddy” I said, picking him up.

“I got another C on my math test again” he mumbled. “Aw, it’s ok, we’ll work on that…daddy is not good in math neither” I said softly, clutching him in my arms.

“Dinner time!” Natalia shouted. The girls began rushing from their rooms.

“Dad, are you ok?” Ronnie asked. I looked at him, seeing how he notices that something was on my mind.

“Yeah, daddy is fine” I said.

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            Once dinner was done and everything was cleaned, everyone was in their PJ’s relaxing I began to slump into my soft bed next to my husband. The only light was the TV which Marshall was watching. His arm place over his head, the remote in the other, keeping full focus on the TV, like most nights I cuddled under his arm, placing my chin on his chest. He suddenly felt strangely tense and stiff. Thinking nothing of it, I drifted to sleep, feeling his chest inflating gently under my chin.

            Waking up to the annoying buzzing alarm clock that irritated me greatly as if I was waking up with a hangover, slamming it with my palm, and blinking my eyes.

“Honey, wake up” I said, reaching over Marshall, placing a kiss on his cheek. He became stiff again, and he groaned getting up.

“Come on, sleepyhead” I said placing a couple of kisses on his cheek.

“Mm, stop I’m up” he groaned. I came back, feeling embarrassed, like I was acting like a child, but he loves when I do that. I didn’t understand Marshall New Years he was just the same as when we first meet and our first couple of marriage. Maybe I need to accept that the honeymoon is over.

            Putting on an act in front of the kids as I took them to school, that nothing was wrong, nothing was bothering me. As I commuted to work, with only me in the car, the cup of coffee and the car radio, I felt my marriage slipping through my fingers. It was turning to goo in my fingers and slowly but surely seeping through the cracks of my fingers, taking everything with it.

            My dream growing up was not to be in a relationship with Eminem or be married and have all the money and fame in the world. My dream was to be in love with him and live like that forever. I did not care for the money or the fame, although my mother encouraged my fantasy by having her daughter have all the fame and money.  

            My dream was not to care where we live together, who we had, what we had. As long as I got to hear him call me by my name and ‘sweetie’ or ‘honey’, I wanted him to know I would love him no matter what his flaws are, and in return to have his love back. Growing up, I just knew I love him and I understood him and he understood me on some sort of level.