“my husband is different” is something almost every wife says at a certain point in their life, this point came, but things are not how i expected it, something feels odd.
I was just eighteen when i met Norman for the first time. I never had that closeness with my family, i hated it a little actually, mom and were so judging that i didn’t felt safe at home, and i used to stay away from home as much as I could, that’s how I ended up working at my school cafe, my school was not well known, and i didn’t saw any new arrive in years, but that year it changed: Two twins my same age were moving there.
I was curious, and i started asking my friends about those people, according to what they said the twins were two guys, they came from Europe, and apparently they came to my school because one of them was in really great trouble with the law, i wasn’t suspicious about that since they were my same age, but that was the worst mistake.
They arrived one week from the start of the school, i known from rumors the guys weren’t ugly, but holy shit, they were really handsome: They were both redhead with curly long and messy hair, freckles all over their cheeks, and deep brown eyes, with a hot body too, the only difference between them was that one of them,my now husband, had a scar near the eyebrow. I later found out their names too, Norman and Chris, Norman was an extrovert, nice with everybody, full of friends and a crackhead, he looked perfect at everyone. Chris otherwise was completely different, he never talked to nobody, acted like a ghost from day to night, and acted stubborn even with the teachers.
I didn’t get the chance to talk to any of them, mostly because i was too busy with working and studying, But the miracle happened.
It was the fifth of December and Norman came into the bar and ordered a hot chocolate, he was completely alone, without any of his friends, and it was strange since he didn’t ever came to the cafe and when he did he was always with his friends, but i soon understood why, when i brought him the hot chocolate he started hitting on me, and invited me to take a seat with him, i couldn’t believe it, we started talking, and i asked about his brother too, he confessed that his brother had lots of problems and was struggling with mental health, and that the scar he had was the result of an incident with him, i didn’t asked anything about that later, it seemed like a really sensitive topic, the only thing I asked was; “How am i supposed to tell if it’s you or Chris now?” And he gently said “The scar, always remember it” After that, we started hanging out more often, and hang out became dating, and dating became engaging, and engaging became merrying. We merried on July 25th of 2005, we had our first child, Ash, three years later, and our second, Daisy,after six years. Life was perfect, we were a big happy family, Norman loved me and the kids more then anything, and i did as well, His brother meanwhile emigrated in Mexico after leaving his rehab center, after that, none of us had news of him, but we eventually let him live his life, since he hated his brother.
Just like i said we were happy, until that day. The day when Norman got in a car accident while he was driving to work.
The call arrived the early morning, i compleatly panicked, i rushed into my boss office and told her the situation, then leaved and rushed to the hospital. When i got there i saw the love of my life tied to a stretcher, broken bones and blood everywhere, i seen the nurse and begged her to let me see my husband, but she said they were taking him to the operatory room, and i couldn’t see him until the surgery ended.
The operation lasted two days, when i got into the hospital for the second time, i thought I would’ve seen Norman in coma, or at least unable to move, even if they said the surgery went well, but none of this. My husband looked just fine, the only strange thing were bandages all over his body and on his head, but he could still talk eat and drink properly, he had to stay on a wheelchair for a couple of months, but he could walk too.
At the start i was happy, i felt relived, i had my Norman here, and not at the cemetery, but something felt wrong, he looked like a completely different person. He used to be all romantical and sweet with me, but now he looked cold both towards me and the kids He used to talk a lot, but now he was always silent And mostly important, he seemed to have cut off all of his friends, wich were one of the most important things for him. I just thought it was because he still had to recovery from the trauma, but time passed by and he never changed one little, instead the weard behavior became more and more, he showed up late at work, he kept forgetting about Ash and Daisy, and he was rude to everyone. One night i decided to confront him, telling he was behaving toxic, and i had to understand what was going on, i asked him about the incident too, and I literally freezed at his answer “I didn’t felt this bad after all, I wasn’t even so hurt, i wash just stick in the burning car, that’s why you seen me like that in the hospital”
That’s where I knew it, he wasn’t my Norman, my Norman had severe claustrophobia, and he wouldn’t ever talk like this about being stuck in a car.
I felt paranoid, but i had to know that i was wrong, so that night, when he fell asleep, i turned the light on and lifted his hair, i almost gasped.
There wasn’t any scar
He wasn’t Norman
That man, that weirdo, that impostor, he was anything but not my husband
Someone took his place…