I watched her peruse my collection. Her eyes gave her away with double takes at the photographs of places we always said we would visit together, back when our dreams were impossible but shared. She was the epitome of walking sexuality. The glass dangled in her fingers, the wine swirling to match the sway in her hips. When she tipped her head, to look up at the pictures on the top row, her shoulder length blond hair draped across the shoulders of her silk blouse, opening the view to the gentle sweeping lines of her neck. The very neck I had dreamed of strangling so many times.
“I guess it’s true. You really travelled to all those places.”
“I did.”
She was watching me again as if she was trying to anticipate my next move. Unfortunately for her, I didn’t have one.
“You’ve changed.”
“Oh, I doubt that is true. In fact, I know it’s not true. I am the same man I have always been. Perhaps with just a little more me and a lot less you.”
“See, that’s what I mean. You never would have said things like that to me before.”
Life is full of things we want to say, plan on saying, and dream about being able to say and remaining silent. We get lost in that silence or we lose the person we should be. Are we pretending to be someone we are not? I had spent a lot of time looking for that answer. I finally decided we try to be the person we think we are until someone shows us our reflection in the mirror and we can no longer maintain the lie. Some get over the shocking truth better than others.
“Maybe.”
That smirk had returned.
“I knew it. So what’s different now?”
“There is nothing more of mine you can take. We are not connected in any way. And that means you can’t hurt me anymore.”
She started to speak, a lump catching in her throat. I wanted to believe that she was moved, but I didn’t. Not even a little.
“I want you to make it stop.”
“I didn’t start it.”
“But you could end it.”
“I am not certain that is true. Though, even if I could, I am not certain I would.”
“You’re enjoying this.”
“Not particularly. I have very little interest in a constant reminder that the person I loved most in the world was a lying, cheating whore.”
I am not sure why. It’s not like I had said anything that she hadn’t heard before. But I could tell that this time it had stung, if only just a bit.
“And besides, I am smarter now. ‘Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake.'”
“Sun Tzu?”
“Napoleon.”
***
I had been woefully unprepared for the total devastation that had been hurled upon me during our first conflict. I wasn’t prepared this time either but, fortunately, I also wasn’t alone.
The rumors had started months earlier. People were whispering everywhere I went. The economy was tanking, a job, any job, was worth its weight in gold, and layoffs were on the horizon. Walking the factory floor was bad enough, with eyes following my every move, people stopping me when they thought no one was looking, asking me if I had seen the list. But I was getting it much worse at home. Melanie was near panic, asking me, every day, if I had heard anything. Did I still have a job? Was I sure? What was my plan? What were we going to do?
I didn’t have a plan. I didn’t need one. My boss was a good man and he had my back. He had looked me in the eye and told me not to worry. So I hadn’t. And it would have been fine, if he had been the one making the final decisions and other people hadn’t intervened.
If there were signs, I missed them. There were some possibilities. I recognized after it was much too late. Our sex life had taken a noticeable dip. I thought it was stress. I knew I wasn’t in the mood as much as I had been before. I guess I thought it was my fault more than hers. Then there was the fact that Melanie knew, before I had stepped one foot into the house, I had been laid off. My boss was dumfounded as he told me, that the man with the highest team production and best quality rating was lost from his staff. Melanie wasn’t even surprised. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be my only long term commitment that was about to get blown to hell.
Melanie gave me absolutely no hint that our marriage was in trouble. She went through the motions of a dutiful wife with ease. Loving embraces, kisses on the cheek, keeping me well fed and the house spotless. She was so much more of a Suzy homemaker during those last few weeks. She never let me leave the room without telling me she loved me, probably to mask her guilt.