“Are you going to be home on Saturday?” She asked. Her voice shakey, knowing what she was about to verbalize. Knowing that saying it out loud to him made the decision real.
“Yeah, why?”
“You’re being served.” And it was done.
He stared at her for a minute. His grey blue eyes were sunken in from the stress of his depression, of his job; his deception. He looked small and frail, and she couldn’t help wanting to hug him, even though he was the reason the words had to be spoken.
“I want us to remain family” she said. “I don’t want this to be ugly. You’re important to me and I want you to know that.”
His eyes moved past hers now, through her, into another world. The world she suspected he wanted to share with his Mexican Mistress.“Ok. We’ll treat each other like family.” He muttered, sticking out his jaw.
“Be home ok? I don’t want to have to pay this guy twice.”
“I’ll be here, don’t worry. I want this thing done quickly, remember?”
She sighed. “Yeah. I remember. I’m going to take a bath.”
Upstairs in the master bedroom, she drew her bath. Her pale, silky skin turned red when it touched the heat of the lavendar scented water. As she sank deeper into the tub, she closed her eyes and tried to remember what her life was like when he loved her back.
