Chapter 4 - a pleasant surprise

They say the first year of marriage is the hardest. However, as Delilah and I continued to soak in marital bliss for the first few months, we started to think that we were the exception to the rule. We were wrong.

Delilah's lack of steady employment started to become a major point of contention. Unable find regular work resulted in her staying at home for stretches of time. In order to stave off a growing sense of unfulfillment, she would grasp onto seemingly random activities in a haphazard fashion. Her hobbies bounced from crafting to sewing to blogging, none of which captivated her attention for more than a week or so. Eventually, she ended up spending much of her time watching TV and lounging about our apartment.

As one might expect, Delilah's inactivity had consequences, both physically and emotionally. She became more withdrawn, sad, as well as less affectionate. Our post-wedding sex, which was intense and frequent, began to simmer and we fell into a rut of being intimate maybe once every few weeks. Physically, Delilah was very much lethargic and fatigued, preferring to nap rather than engage in any shared activity.
It might sound horrible, but a part of me was happy to watch her slide into lassitude, as I figured it would help to realize my secret fantasy. However, I was also too sensible to ignore that Delilah was unhappy and more than anything, I hated her to see her that way, even though it played into my desires.

Months passed. Delilah became a bit more reserved and our conversations were filled with banal observations and remarks like, "How was your day?" It was becoming increasingly rare that she would discuss anything personal with me. That is, until, one fateful night nearly 11 months after our wedding.

"Ugh...I'm getting fat," Delilah said with annoyance as she scanned herself in our full-length mirror.

I laid in bed, reading a book, as Delilah spoke; I felt myself harden immediately.

She wore pajama pants and was topless, but not braless. She continued to survey herself, repeatedly pinching her hips and belly, managing to secure the tiniest sliver of extra flesh and skin each time. Finally, she put on an old shirt, turned away from the mirror, and crawled into bed next to me

"It's not my imagination either, you know. I weighed myself this morning - I'm up."

My heart began to race. Delilah was definitely trying to make a point - it wasn't just an offhand comment.

"Oh?" I said, feigning interest and glancing from my book. "What's the damage?"

"Five freaking pounds..."

My erection stiffened and I hoped Delilah wouldn't notice.

Thankfully, she turned over to lay on her stomach; she shoved her face into the pillow and said in a muffled and downcast voice, "Marriage is making me fat."

I remained silent, but in my mind, the fantastical vision that I had on our honeymoon returned.

Delilah flipped over and laid on her back. Putting her hands on her still trim middle she said, "I can't believe I'm becoming the old cliché - the woman who lets herself go after the wedding. Do you think that's why I haven't got any gigs lately? Is it because I'm getting fat and people can tell?"

Delilah looked genuinely upset as she voiced her concerns, but the reality was that she still so thin and petite that no one would have guessed that she had gained weight. I knew I had to address the issue, but I was torn about what to say; it seemed like there wasn't a good answer.

"Baby, you haven't let yourself go. I had no idea that you gained some weight and I still think you're as beautiful as ever."

"Really? Even though the scale...?"

"Forget the scale, OK? The only thing that's important is that you feel comfortable."

Delilah leaned over and kissed my cheek.
"Thanks honey, you always know what to say. But still, I feel...I feel like I'm not happy with myself right now. Does that make sense?"

"Because of the weight?"

"Because of the weight and my work and...well, just everything. I feel directionless right now. You're kicking ass with your work at The Post and here I am just sitting at home, watching TV...getting fatter."

I sympathized with Delilah as she had a point. I wrote for one of the larger newspapers in town and I was attracting quite a lot of positive attention with my work; I hoped it was only a matter of time before a promotion was in store. Meanwhile, Delilah's career had been inert. It all made sense why Delilah was so upset, but the lizard part of my brain could only focus on the last bit of what she said. My little Delilah was putting on weight!

Though my erection continued to throb, I stamped down my primal urge and coolly replied, "Don't worry, things will get better. In fact, let me talk to the ad guys at work, maybe they'd want you for some modeling."

Delilah perked up and her frown vanished from her face. "Really? Oh! That's a great idea!" She rolled over a gave me a big kiss on the lips, her long, dark brown hair splashed into my face like a tidal wave.

I brushed her hair away and saw her look at me with hopeful eyes and big smile. I simply couldn't resist teasing her.

"And, if that doesn't work out, then you can be a full-time stay at home wife who just keeps getting lazier and fatter."

She laughed. "Ooooh, be careful what you wish for - you just might get it!" She said as she slid her hand down to my privates. "Oh...someone is excited..."

We made love that night for the first time in weeks.

What stuck with me more than anything, however, was Delilah's reaction to my feigned joke. It was obvious that she didn't take it serious - who would, after all? It occurred to me that at some point, I would need to be direct with her about my fantasy. I wondered how I could go about telling her. I wondered how she would react.

Most of all, I wondered if she would continue to grow.