Queen of Spades Affirmations: The Morning After Her Night Out

Wake up. Slowly. Not the alarm. Just the light. The house is quiet. Listen to it. It is morning. The night is over. Everything that needed to happen has happened. Say it with me. My wife is a Queen. Good husband. Stay in the chair a moment longer. You slept there, or near it. Your neck knows. Say it. "I waited, and the waiting was easy." Good husband. Look at the clock. Late. She will sleep late. You will let her. Say it. "She sleeps. I keep the house quiet." Good husband. Stand up. Slowly. Roll your shoulders. Walk to the kitchen on bare feet. Do not wake her. Say it. "I move softly in her house." Good husband. The kettle. The good cups. Not the chipped one. The white ones she likes. Say it. "The good cups are for her." Good husband. Her shoes are by the door. Red soles. One on its side. Leave it exactly where it fell. Say it. "I do not tidy what she left." Good husband. Her dress is over the stair rail. Silk. Still holding the shape of her. Do not touch it yet. Say it. "Her dress stays where she put it." Good husband. The ring is on the kitchen counter. Small. Bright. She took it off to wash her hands, and left it by the sugar. Say it. "Her ring stays on. It only rests." Good husband. Pick it up. Look at it in the window light. Set it back. Exactly there. A queen finds her things where she left them. Say it. "She finds everything where she left it." Good husband. Coffee. Strong. One sugar. A splash of cream, never milk. You know this by heart now. Say it. "I know how she takes it." Good husband. Good husbands make the coffee and come find me at juliet monroe dot com. Good husband. Do not ask where she was. Do not ask who. The question is not yours. It was never yours. Say it. "I do not ask. I am calm." Good husband. A text arrived at four a.m. while you slept. One line. Home soon. Do not look at the time it was sent. Look at the word. Home. Say it. "She comes home. Always home." Good husband. There is a smell in the hall. Her perfume, and something else on top of it. Do not name the something. Let it be weather. Say it. "I let it be weather." Good husband. Jealousy comes in the morning too. Soft. Heavy. Sit with it. Breathe. Watch what it turns into when you do not feed it. Say it. "My jealousy turns into pride." Good husband. The sun reaches the table. Warm. Gold. You feel it on your hands. Your hands are steady. Say it. "My hands are steady." Good husband. A tray. Toast. Strawberries cut in halves. A napkin folded in a triangle. She will not say anything about it. She will eat all of it. Say it. "I make her morning easy." Good husband. The stairs creak. Her step. Slow. Bare feet. Stand straighter. Eyes down, then up. Let her see your face first. Say it. "My face is calm when she comes down." Good husband. She walks in wearing your shirt. Hair loose. She does not explain. She sits. She waits for her cup. Say it. "She does not explain. I do not need it." Good husband. Set the cup in front of her. Handle to the right. She lifts it. Sips. One small nod. That nod is the whole conversation. Say it. "Her nod is enough." Good husband. She slides her hand across the table and turns your wrist over. Checks the watch she chose. Checks the ring you still wear. Satisfied. Say it. "She checks what is hers." Good husband. She says: you waited. Two words. You waited. Do not make it bigger. Just nod. Say it. "I waited. That is who I am." Good husband. The house is hers. The mornings are hers. The silence is hers. You are allowed to live inside all three. Say it. "I live inside what she gives me." Good husband. She takes a strawberry from the tray. Bites it. Looks out the window. She is somewhere else for a moment, and you are glad for her. Say it. "I am glad when she is glad." Good husband. Say thank you. Not for the night. For the morning. For letting you be the one who is here. Say it. "Thank you for letting me be here." Good husband. She laughs once, quietly, at nothing. A private joke from last night. It stays private. You smile anyway. Say it. "I smile at what is not mine to know." Good husband. Her phone lights up on the table. Face down. A buzz. She does not turn it over. Neither do you. Not in this house. Say it. "Her phone is hers." Good husband. She stretches. The kind of stretch that takes the whole body. Satisfied. Unhurried. Nothing in the world is late. Say it. "Nothing is late. She is home." Good husband. You wash the cups. Dry them. Put them back in the cupboard in the same order. The routine holds the morning together. Say it. "My routine holds her morning together." Good husband. Later she will tell you a little. Not much. A color. A place. One small thing to carry. Carry it gently. Say it. "I carry what she gives me gently." Good husband. There is a version of you that would have fought this. Thank him. Then close the door on him. He is not needed here. Say it. "That man is gone. I am here." Good husband. The key in the lock. That was last night. You heard it. Remember that sound. It is the sound of her coming back to you. Say it. "She always comes back to me." Good husband. She points to the floor beside her chair. Not the chair itself. The floor. You kneel for a moment. Only a moment. Then she lets you rise. Say it. "I kneel when she points." Good husband. The dress on the stair rail. She asks you to hang it up. Carefully. The way you would hold something that matters. Say it. "I hang her dress with care." Good husband. Fold her shawl. Straighten her shoes. Put the ring on the little dish by the window. She will put it on when she is ready. Say it. "She wears her ring when she is ready." Good husband. She tells you what she wants for dinner. One dish. No discussion. You write it down. You are already planning it. Say it. "I plan her dinner with joy." Good husband. Today you will work. You will smile at your desk. Nobody will know what your morning was. That is a quiet kind of power. Say it. "I carry her morning into my day." Good husband. Good husbands say thank you and come find me at juliet monroe dot com. Good husband. Tonight she may go out again. Or she may stay. You will not know until she decides. Practice not knowing. Say it. "I do not need to know." Good husband. Open the window. Cold air. Fresh. It clears the room. It clears you. Say it. "I begin the day clean." Good husband. Fold the blanket on the chair. Plump the cushion. Leave the room ready for her. Say it. "I leave every room ready for her." Good husband. Check the door. Locked. The spare key sits in the bowl. Hers. Never yours to carry. Say it. "Her key opens my door." Good husband. Her coat hangs by the hall mirror. Still warm. Hang it properly. Brush the shoulder. Say it. "I brush her coat." Good husband. She calls from upstairs. One word. Your name. Go. Do not run. Do not dawdle. Say it. "I answer when she calls." Good husband. A quiet hour. She reads. You sit near. Say nothing. Silence is a gift she gives you. Say it. "I sit near her in silence." Good husband. She tells you to look at her. Look. She does not say what she sees. She just smiles. Say it. "She sees me. That is enough." Good husband. Somebody sent flowers. They are on the table. Not from you. Water them anyway. Say it. "I water what others give her." Good husband. Think of the chair. Think of the door. Think of the wait. Every minute of it was worth it. Say it. "Every minute was worth it." Good husband. She straightens your collar. Pats your chest once. Walks away. You stand there, warm all over. Say it. "Her touch is small and I am warm." Good husband. A neighbor waves. You wave back. Your ring catches the light. So does hers. Say it. "We wear our rings in the open." Good husband. Tonight you will cook. Tomorrow you will clean. Next week you will wait again. And you will be glad. Say it. "I will be glad to wait again." Good husband. There is no hurry in this house. No shame in it either. Only a rhythm, and you know it. Say it. "I know the rhythm of our house." Good husband. Say her name in your head. Slowly. Juliet. Feel what it does to your shoulders. They drop. Say it. "Her name lets my shoulders drop." Good husband. Now all of it together. Slowly. Say each line after me, one after another, and do not stop. I waited, and the waiting was easy. I move softly in her house. Her ring stays on. It only rests. I do not ask. I am calm. My jealousy turns into pride. I make her morning easy. Her nod is enough. Thank you for letting me be here. She always comes back to me. Good husband. I begin the day clean. I leave every room ready for her. I answer when she calls. I sit near her in silence. She sees me. That is enough. Every minute was worth it. We wear our rings in the open. I know the rhythm of our house. Good husband. Again. A little softer. I move softly in her house. I do not ask. I am calm. My jealousy turns into pride. Her nod is enough. Thank you for letting me be here. She always comes back to me. My wife is a Queen. Good husband. Once more. Quieter. Almost a whisper. I am calm. I am grateful. I am proud. I make her morning easy. Her ring stays on. She always comes back to me. My wife is a Queen. My wife is a Queen. Good husband. Good husbands stay calm and come find me at juliet monroe dot com. Good husband. Last round. Barely a breath. I am calm. I am grateful. She always comes back to me. My wife is a Queen. Good husband. Very good husband. Now the sun is high. The coffee is gone. The house is yours to keep warm for her. Go and live your day. I will be here when you come back.