my—her—we—our

As every morning, my alarm wakes me from sleep. I reach my hand over to halt the annoying sound reverberating from my phone by pressing ‘snooze’, before stretching upwards to look around our warm bedroom, which brings me a sense of contentment.

The walls are a dark green color, which matches perfectly with the dark, hard wooden floor. The walls are adorned with photos and other memorabilia, and the three large windows feature hanging plants in front of them. The center window boasts cascading petunias, while the side windows display regular green, vine-like plants.

I turn my head where my eyes greet my wife who stays asleep next to me. Her short black hair covers her face and as I reach my hand to clear it away-

“Mamaaa!”

I jolt awake with a gasp, lifting my head, I turn and look around, seeing the grey bedroom. An involuntary huff comes from my nose before I let my head fall back on my pillow.

A few seconds later, my silence is disturbed by another call from my six-year-old, Oliver.

“I’m coming Oli! Be patient, please.” I call back as I slowly sit up. Gingerly sliding my legs over the side of the bed and grounding my feet on the rough grey carpet.

I hate this carpet.

Turning my head, I see my husband, Jake. Sound asleep on his stomach.

After I gave birth to Oliver, Jake's father let me work as a secretary at his auto company. His parents don’t like me. They don’t like how I ‘ruined’ their son's future.

Like I was the one who spiked my drink with tequila.

I stretch my arms up and stand, hearing a soft pop in my back before unlocking the door and finding Oliver sitting criss-crossed on the ground with his back against the cracked wall.

He looks up at me with his big blue eyes, “Mama, are you and daddy done sleeping? I’m hungry and Miri stinks.” Oliver pouts and follows me into the small kitchen.

“Are you sure it’s not you who stinks? When was the last time you had a bath?” I smile softly at him and kiss his blonde head as he hops onto the seat at our small wooden dining room table against the wall.

“HmmHm I think it was Wensday.” He taps his hands on the table as he watches me grab two pieces of bread.

My movement pauses and I turn my whole body to face him, putting my hand on my hip, “Wednesday? When I bathed you? Didn’t daddy bathe you yesterday?” My eyebrows furrow together in slight concern.

Oliver shakes his head, “No, he said I didn’t need it and I told daddy that you would be mad and he said that you didn’t need to know.”

I roll my eyes and drop two pieces of wheat bread into the toaster before pushing down the lever. A faint creaking sound and a baby babbling voice emerge from the hallway into the now cramped kitchen.

“Hey buddy, how’d you sleep?” Jake says as he ruffles Oliver's hair before setting our baby girl, Miri, in her high chair.

“Miri was trying to get out of her bed again.” Oliver kicks his feet, growing impatient as usual.

I sigh, grabbing a pan from the cupboard under the counter and place it onto the metal stove, turning the knobs until the repetitive clicking stops and a circular blue flame sparks. A moment later there’s a large presence behind me.

Jake moves my hair to one shoulder and kisses the opposite shoulder, “How did you sleep?” He speaks gently to me as his hand finds a place on my waist.

“Fine, can you grab the eggs please?” I ask and itch my nose before grabbing the butter dish.

“We don’t have any.” Jake responds and kisses my shoulder again.

“I just bought some, where did it go?” My voice grows short.

“I don’t know, I just know we don’t have any.” Jake's voice is indifferent. Like he doesn’t care that we don’t have any food to feed our children.

A silent scoff comes from my nose but before I can argue the toaster pops up. Walking away from him, I grab a paper plate and pluck the hot toast out with my fingers, dropping it onto the plate.

Jake walks up to the coffee machine next to me and lowers his voice, “Why are you so uptight today?”

I grip the knife tighter as I spread the soft butter on the crisp bread, “I’m not uptight, I’m just trying to think where the eggs could have gone when I just bought some. Also, you can’t keep locking the door, especially when Oliver has been having nightmares and Miri is learning to climb out her crib.”

As Jake loads up the coffee machine he responds with the same low tone, “Don’t blame me for something stupid like that, we can just buy some more. And do you really wanna explain how babies are made to him?”

“No I don’t but all I’m saying is we need to be better resourcing our food, especially since Oliver is starting school and-”

“Okay fine, I’ll do detective work with disappearing eggs. Feel better now?” He snaps and stares at me with narrowed eyes.

All I can do is stare at him. My mouth grows sour and the urge to fight back is on the tip of my tongue but there’s a hesitation in my throat that closes up. Shaking my head, I take the plate of toast and set it in front of Oliver, “Eat up babes, daddy is gonna cut you up some fruit and you’re gonna eat all of it, yes?”

He groans as he raises a piece of toast to his mouth and takes a big bite, “Yes mama.”

“Good.” I kissed his head again before moving to Miri and picking her up from her chair, “Hi my baby, did you try to escape last night? You wanted to snuggle with your brother, mm?” There's a faint reek smell and I take a whiff against her before looking at Jake, “Did you change her diaper?”

His back is to me as he cuts up an apple, “Do you want me to cut fruit or change her diaper?” Jake glances back at me with his fake smile before looking back down at the cutting board.

I roll my eyes and walk into the hall, gently pushing open the children’s shared bedroom. Laying Miri down on the changing table and smiling at her as I undo her blue giraffe onesie. She babbles at me and tries to roll over as I clean her mess up but I have learned how to work around her endless movement. Once we're done, I rest her in my arms as we head back into the kitchen.

I grab mushed baby food from the fridge and sit down across from Oliver, who is slowly eating his cut up fruit, and begin to feed Miri.

“I’m gonna go to the store today after work. Gonna get all the basics and dinner for the week.”

Jake hums in response but Oliver bounces in his seat, “Can I have candy?!”

“No baby, I’m sorry we don’t have enough for play food.” I tell him as I scoop some mashed carrots into Miri’s mouth.

Oliver loudly groans and deflates in his seat instead.

My morning is the same as it always is. Make breakfast—if we have it. Drop the kids off with Jake’s mom. Go to work. Go to the store. Go home. Restart the next day.

I park the car in the Walmart parking lot, turning off the ignition and leaning back against the driver's seat. Staring out the windshield, my vision goes hazy. And then I’m back.

My pristine office with my dark wooden desk which is covered with papers, folders, and a slick silver laptop. The walls are lined with books of law and psychology. Plaques of my success hang behind me, looming over whomever comes in to ask for my services. Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, my nose fills with the lavender essential oils I put in the humidifier which I placed on a small table next to the large leather couch in front of my desk. As I open my eyes, I look down on the ongoing case I am working on. A woman murdered her husband and his lover.

Everything is perfect.

There's a framed photo of my wedding day resting to the left. Me, in a beautiful white gown, standing next to my wife. Her face is blurred and bleeding into the background. Like water color against acrylics.

This is what my life was supposed to be.

A successful lawyer with my own company and office. My full-ride scholarship to Harvard was going to bring me to this point. But one stupid drunk night, stupid strict parents, and a stupid boyfriend ruined it all.

My vision comes back and I am entering the Walmart, ready to use my $100 on groceries for the week.

Like I’m programmed, I put what we need into the cart electronically. Eggs. Milk. Fruit. Chicken.

As I’m walking around, my mind goes back to my office.

Using a fountain pen, I sign contracts. Crisp and clean, black and white. It still smells like lavender. Everything is still leather and different shades of brown. My plaques are still hanging behind me. The photos of my unknown wife and I are still sitting peacefully on my desk. No rich old fashioned in-laws. No stupid husband. Just the law and the right for me to fight for others.

As I turn a corner, the crash of two metal carts rips me back to reality.

“Oh my god I am so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention I…” My voice trails off as I look at the woman in front of me.

It’s me.

“Oh no you’re absolutely alright, I was distracted, are you okay?” She asks me. I ask myself?

My eyes go wide and my mouth opens slightly but nothing comes out.

It’s me. The woman in front of me is me. Her hair is in a slick ponytail. Her work attire consists of a dark grey button up with a black pencil skirt that stops just above the knees, black stockings and low black pumps. She looks sharp and clean. Her outfit has no wrinkles, as if she just came off an ironing board. She has a simple gold necklace that hangs on her chest but what really catches my attention is a rose gold wedding ring, sitting peacefully on her hand.

If she wasn’t looking at me with her eyes so big and concerned then I would be terrified.

Well, more terrified than I am now.

“Are you sure you’re okay hun? You look shaken.” She speaks softly.

I nod slightly, licking my lips before speaking, my voice has a slight shake, “Y-Yea…sorry just took me by surprise.”

The woman—me—chuckles and nods, “Oh okay good.”

Just then, another woman in a sharp suit walks up, “Okay babe, I didn’t know which one to get so I got both.”

This woman seems familiar, like I’ve seen fragments of her face.

Like a blurred photo of water colors bleeding against acrylics.

My jaw drops a little more when it clicks.

The wife looks at me and smiles softly and oh god she is beautiful. She is slightly taller than me, her hair is black and short. Her smile shows off a set of dimples on each side of her cheeks. Her black suit jacket is unbuttoned, showing her white button up which is tucked into black slacks with a shiny pair of black dress shoes.

My vision turns static as I enter my dream and grip the photos in my hand. It’s her. My wife in the framed photo on my desk.

I cover my mouth and shoot up from my desk, shoving back my chair, and moving quickly to the mirror hanging on the wall.

My attire is a dark grey button up, tucked into a black pencil skirt, with my hair in a slick ponytail.

Panic floods me and I take a stutter step back, my body bumps into a tall floor lamp and as I turn around to stop it from falling, I’m suddenly back at the fluorescent lit store and touching a strangers arm, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bump into you I’m sorry” My words become a jumbled mix of apologies and excuses, making my breathing pick up.

I put my hand on my chest and back up against a shelf, my gaze shoots to the sharply dressed women. The air heats up, my brain feels like it’s growing too big for my skull, and it feels as if everyone in the store is staring at me, as if someone is recording the security camera footage and is posting it for everyone to see. This is a prank. An evil prank; someone paid for this to happen. This is a punishment for cursing my in-laws and my husband. For wishing my life was different.

I fall to the ground. My hands start to sweat, and my lungs reject the air I am trying to give them. My eyes burn, and I squeeze them shut to go to my safe space, but even that feels like a trap. I have nowhere to go. I am stuck. Stuck in this life. Stuck with my husband. Stuck in that shitty apartment. Stuck in my shitty job. And I am never getting out. I am never getting out. I-

“Hey hey hey, open your eyes, look at me, sweetheart.” A voice gently lures me back, and warm palms curve around my upper arms with a soft squeeze.

I open my eyes and through my tears I see me. The calmer. Better. Happier version of me.

“There you are. Let’s try to take some deep breaths. Follow my breathing, in your nose and out your mouth, yes? Okay in….and out….in….and out…” She—me—herself—I—take deep and slow breaths. Moving her shoulders to emphasize her breathing.

I—she—myself—her—attempt to follow those breaths. They come out raggedy and stutter-like, but after a minute or two, my—her—we—our breathing evens out into a similar harmony.

“How are you feeling? How does the world feel?” She asks. At some point during our breathing, the woman—her wife?—My wife?— walked over and started hovering above us, conducting passerby traffic so people wouldn’t have the chance to loiter and stare.

I look back at us before speaking, “I…the world feels wrong…so wrong..”

She smiles, “Well, wrong isn’t good, but…you know what you need to do, darling.”

It takes a moment to process her words, but before I can question, she helps me stand up and fixes my hair, pushing it behind my ears.

“You okay? You looked pretty troubled there.” Our wife speaks softly to me, her voice deep but angelic.

I can’t look away from the couple, stuck on bits and pieces of them like a mouse in a mousetrap.

“Yeah…I’m okay now..uhm thank you.” I slowly take a step away from them. Holding my arms across my stomach, my intestines feel like they’re going to bust out.

The better replica of me breaks the silence, “You know me, but this is our wife, Cass.”

My throat closes once again

My phone rings, breaking my trance. I turn around to grab my ringing device from the child seat of the cart, but pause when I feel a soft hand on my back and Cass whispering in my ear, “You know what you have to do, it’s not too late….I’ll be waiting, my love.” Cass gently kisses my cheek.

I stand there frozen, a headache pounding in my head as reality goes back and forth between the store and my office.

I turn to question everything, but they’re gone.

My head snaps in every direction, trying to find them, but there is nobody in the aisle.

They were just here. I had my back turned for a moment. How are they not here? I felt their touch, I heard their voices, they were here.

The phone doesn’t stop ringing, but I can’t answer it. I need to find them. I grab my bag from the cart, turn off my phone, and hurry through every aisle in desperate hope that they appear again. But they don’t.

They don’t appear as I leave the store. They don’t appear as I get into the cheap, beat-up car and insert the key. They don’t appear as I drive mindlessly. They don’t appear as I unlock the door and shut it behind me. They don’t appear as I step into the small living room littered with toys and laundry. They don’t appear as the noise of Oliver playing with his trains, and Miri as she cries her little heart out, greet me. They don’t appear as Jake questions me about the groceries.

“...I..didn’t get them…” My voice is quiet. The inside of my body feels light, but my skin feels heavy, as if I’m a meat suit filled with air, and the only feeling grounding me is the burning in my eyes.

“You didn’t get them? You made all that fuss this morning about feeding our children, but you just didn’t get them?” He scoffs and shoves Miri into my arms before he puts on his shoes, grabbing his keys off the coffee table. “I’ll go get them, and you just stay and stare at the wall like you usually do.”

Jake shoulder checks me as he makes his way to the door and grabs his coat.

“You know what to do.”

I speak quickly, but stay frozen with my back to him and my eyes burning a hole in the wall in front of me, gripping onto Miri as she wipes her eyes against my shoulder.

“I want a divorce.”