Something in the Air

This is all my fault.

I shouldn’t have come home from work early today. If I hadn’t, I would not have caught my wife in bed with Roy. Yeah, that Roy. My bestfriend.

The one I went to Highschool with, shared a dorm with In college, then opened a business with. 30 years of friendship gone.

He fucked my wife.

And I had to kill him. It’s that simple.

I sat in the back of the police cruiser not even sure if I was myself.

The memories of my wife’s distraught face when she realized I was standing in the room gun in hand, She was mid orgasm. 

I could tell by the way she arched her back and held her breath, her red wild hair  crowned her face and her lips pursed as she tried to subdue her explosion, I knew that look too well, that’s how she used to look at me when we made Love.

 I watched her face intently from the door way as Roy rode my wife from behind, grunting and sweating intensely. 

The smell filled the air with cheating and lies mixed with the afternoon glasses of whiskey left on the nightstand, an obvious lunch time treat, I wondered how often this happened while I worked. While I closed and signed Contracts,travelled and conducted the business that Roy and I Built, while he drilled my wife. 

How I didn’t see this happening, made sense, who would know my schedule better than my wife? But except my business partner and confidante of course. 

Today however was different. I woke up early with a sense of purpose. I smiled and kissed my beautiful wife of 15 years. Her sweet face while she slept made it hard to leave but my plan was to return to her as quickly as possible.   I went for a run, and embraced the cool crispy 6am fall air, the coldness of outside stung my lungs as I ran by other early birds, who like me were starting their day.  

After my exercise, I was in  eager anticipation of getting to the office early to draw up some paperwork.

Funny enough, I Saw Roy this morning, sitting at his desk when I got there, he was on the phone sitting on the edge of his huge mahogany desk. Papers strewn all about the plce, stacks of papers on his black leather chaise. Roy’s office was beautifully furnished and painted in the  colours of olives, golds and burgundy’s as if autumn  was encapsulated within the walls of his huge space. 

The huge bay windows over looked Central Park, during the later seasons of the year, the foliage and rich of nature matched so perfectly, Roy had good taste.

As I walked past his office to get to mine Roy looked up at me and smiled, waved and continued his conversation, looking back, I wonder if he was talking to my wife.

“Deena, cancel the rest of my meetings for today, I’m taking the day off”. I buzzed happily to my secretary.

As I headed out to leave, I passed Roy’s office again, expecting to advise him of my departure, however, Roy was gone. 

He hadn’t said anything to me after his call, but my assumption was he had run out for a meeting, it was not unusual for him to leave  and update me on the facts later.

I went about my day withth not even a thought. 

On my way home, I took the scenic route, the auburn and emerald lined trees on the boulevards were so beautiful, I kept my windows down to indulge in sweet smells of coffees and pumpkin spices eminating from the nearby cafes and bakeries that surrounded my block. I listened intently and watched the groups of people getting where they needed to be as I rode down the street to my house. 

A brownstone my wife and I shared, on a quaint street, not too far from my office; she picked all the decor, from the colour of the hardwood floors to the light fixtures, to the tile, I gave her full autonomy  to do whatever she pleased. 

That’s how it worked always, from the day I met her when we bumped into each other in the halls that one fateful afternoon. 

I was late for my economics class, and she, was late for...Not that I can remember right now, but she was late. As per usual I woke up past my alarm after an attempt at an all night study bender. While I barely had my sneakers on, I balanced my books, my shirt half over my head, I was half dressed. My first meal of a stale bagel clenched between my teeth. I clownishly collided into her,  knocking her, her books and a cup of coffee she had spilling into the hallway.

“Oh shit”. I murmured in embarrassment as I tried my best to balance all the things I had In my Hands and help her up, her coffee now a puddle, laid out beside her books and her in disarray. My God, she was beautiful.

Her short red curls reminded me of a young Sophia Loren. Her baby AC/DC tshirt clung to her braless b cups. I caught a glimpse of her exposed nipples until we made eye contact and I was met with the look of utter disgust.  I apologized profusely. She cursed me out, Brooklyn style. From that day on, I vouched I would make that firey red head my wife. Roy, my best man of course. That was 10 years ago. 

So now, here I stood. The revolver in my hand smoking, my soon to be ex wife covered in blood and the brain matter from her lover. I turned around as silently as I arrived, leaving the sobs and trauma I created behind me as I sat on the front stoop and waited for the police to arrive. 

I didn’t put up a fight. I sat in the back of the police car, in acceptance of my fate. No more Roy, no more wife. Just me and the thoughts of my day that started so beautifully,I felt a sort of calm knowing that  the sights and sounds, the emotions I felt on this very day, I embraced them all  as if it were my last.