TW: Mentions of death
The first change in my marriage was the way that he looked at me.
Our glances had always been wistful and filled with love. Whenever I felt at my most strong and confident, I could feel his gaze on me with adoration and obsession. His eyes were always dripping with lust and love for me, and this made our relationship a love for the ages. Now, he looks at me with suspicion. Rather than flirty winks, I receive narrowed eyes filled with distrust. His stares are sharp and judgmental rather than sweet and longing. He’s beginning to hate me, if he doesn’t already, and every day I can feel his critical gaze on me.
Another sign of his fear is his avoidance.
We used to travel once a month to a new city, taking time out of our busy schedules to explore the world around us and explore each other as well. Once a year we would visit my parents and he would charm them with a smile and some cheeky banter. Since the release of the documentary, we’ve cancelled almost all our plans. He no longer asks to go out to our favorite restaurant, and it’s been days since we’ve had a dinner together at home. All manner of hotels and flights have been cancelled for the foreseeable future, and I’m afraid he’s even blocked my parent’s number to bar them from reaching out to him with pleas to visit.
In the beginning, he attempted to make some semblance of excuses. Sometimes he was busy helping a friend move, other times his work was keeping him late. As the days have gone by since he watched the film, he makes less and less of an effort to come up with any excuse at all, simply saying that he will not be attending any plans we made.
In the past few days, I have never been in the room alone with him. At first, he was being so subtle – sometimes his driver needed to come in and use the washroom and other times his friend was accompanying him to get a drink of water. However, as the days passed by and new articles began to come out, he was plainly always followed by one or two other people, never alone and especially never alone around me.
I had expected myself to feel distraught or even heartbroken, but I simply feel frustrated and pray that my husband will see reason. It was just a film, and it was purely fictional. Whenever I bring it up now, I can see him tense up. His jaw locks and his eyes darken but whether it’s in hatred or fear, I no longer know. I took a chance and broke the first NDA a few nights ago when my husband began to move his things out of our shared apartment. I begged him not to go, crying out that it was all fake, pulling up all the documents I had signed and willing him to look at them, but he didn’t even bat an eye and just pushed right past me to get to the door.
He’s blocked my number now and I know that he doesn’t want me to reach out to him, but I want to explain myself to him. I want to tell him that it was all a PR stunt. I want to tell him that the documentary is more of a ‘mockumentary’ and that it was all falsified for dramatic effect. I want to be able to explain myself and laugh about it with him, but I don’t know if we’ll ever be able to go back to the way we were before.
The most jarring part of it to me, is that he really, truly believes the movie is real.
The film itself is incredibly dark and gory, and I was so excited to take on a role where I could lose myself in the twisted mind of the lead character. When they had proposed to film it in a ‘mockumentary’ style, I was immediately on board and had signed every nondisclosure agreement they had wanted me to sign. At the time, it seemed as though the movie would surely become a success and that my career would flourish because of it. However, there were many repercussions of such a film than I had not anticipated, and there were far more than I had ever signed up for. Not only has my life been turned upside down, but I am now beginning to question things that I have never questioned before.
I spent years building a loving and strong relationship with my husband under the belief that we would always be there for each other. Every time things became difficult, I would be the one to play the mediator, calming him down and reassuring him that everything was going to be alright. It was all done under the belief that we had mutual trust between us, and bonds that would be tested but never truly broken. I had always expected him to come to my support and aid when I truly needed it.
How strong could our love have truly been if he believes a faked documentary and a handful of forged articles over his own wife?
Exactly thirty days after the release date, ten days from now, the director and all the producers will come out with a statement that it was all fake and that none of the accusations were real. In ten days, nobody will have cause to set the cops on me or leave me death threats, egg my house, or harass me on the street. In ten days, the public will be in shock and horror that they ever believed such a ridiculous tale as the truth comes to light.
Perhaps ten days from now my husband will come back home and beg for my forgiveness. He might even bring me flowers and apologize from the bottom of his heart. Maybe he’ll say that he was a fool for not trusting in me. Maybe he’ll even cry and point out how realistic it all was, so how could he possibly be to blame?
I don’t know what he’ll say. I don’t care what he’ll say. Whatever he says, it will never be enough to heal our relationship. He will never have my trust again, and he will never have my love. I know it’s going to hurt him, but what else is there to say?
That’s the price he’ll have to pay for truly believing that I could be a killer.