A candle burned

She stared out the window waiting for him to return. How long had it been since he pushed the boat from the shore and set out into the open water? Months maybe, she was unsure of the exact passage of time. Although she was constantly irritated at him and engaging in so many senseless fights; she missed him now. His face was beginning to get cloudy along with all the other various ideas she had in the past couple of weeks. Her heart hurt with a dullness that defied explaination and her hands shook lightly. She moved the small candle from the sill and rested her hands. Pushing her face against the glass, she began to cry. Softly at first, she wept.
The truth was, she didn’t really know if she cried from love or guilt. Her hatred rivaled her devotion of him and the bitterness stung. The wet flood that  washed her cheeks carried turbulent memories.
She wanted him to leave when he struck her knocking her against the wall and spitting upon her face. Yes, she hated him plenty for that but realized it was the booze that was to blame. So, she forgave him. She wanted him to leave when he called her a bitch and blamed her for everything he never accomplished. So, she forgave him. She wanted him to leave when he betrayed her a total of four times and lied to her face. Yet, despite the pain, she forgave him.
But something changed in her when he told her that he wished that their son had never been born. Something which  maybe always dwelled inside her, came to the surface that night. Her tears dried suddenly and she cursed him. Yes, she was sure of it, she had cursed him to a damned fate. She wasn’t even sure what conjure she gave him but she felt the heaviness inside. She loved her son more than herself and she felt a curse for a curse was sufficient. She remembered smiling as he caught the look in her eyes of evil intent and she recalled his blank expression. The knife had sunk and the fate had been sealed. When he told her he wished to go to the mainland and visit his family, she refused to go. “I shall remain and take care of the house, my dear. When shall you return?”
He shrugged and gave her a frustrated look, then answered with disdain. “I will return in a week or two. Why?”
She had dropped her head as she usually did and mumbled. She felt contempt and in a way was happy he was leaving. In fact, her heart leapt at the freedom she was promised for a while.
So, when he left in his little boat for the mainland, she smiled and sighed with relief. “Good riddance asshole.” She  said as she watched him untangle the rope of his vessel and prepare to leave. She even knew how much more he cared for that damned boat. “The Seaweed” is what he called ‘her’. Yes, he even gave it a sex. She smiled again as he caressed his boat and loaded his bags into the bottom. He turned in her direction and made the strangest expression that she had ever seen then pushed the boat into the open water. Her eyes never left him until he disappeared with the setting sun.
Now, months later she cried and maybe even missed something about him. But only the small  candle offered illumination in the night. Night after night, at her vigil, hoping the curse was not real and hoping the guilt would subside.  Her son, an infant
 boy, screamed loudly as she ignored him digging her raw fingers into the wood of the window sill. The small candle burned until it was no more. And she waited.