A Wife's Love

Time is endless yet feels so brief in the flash of an eye you go from playing on the seesaws with your imaginary friend teddy to signing a marriage certificate while wearing a pink wedding dress cause that's just what you wanted to wear at that moment. Every second of the day is measured, your life is measured, your very existence is measured, and by what ? some unknown force outside our reach. Someone or something that you can't see or hear that gets to predetermine your whole life.

    *knock knock*

" I'm coming... I'll be right there"

"ma'am were here from the Seattle Police Department and were sorry to say but we have found your husband washed up at Seward Park. We also have reason to believe he parked on Lacey V. Murrow bridge and jumped to his death." he unraveled with a rush. His tongue was sharp and unwavering as if he prepared his words on the car ride here.

"no that can't be right..... he's in the kitchen as we speak you must have the wrong man." I insisted I was just looking in his grey-blue eyes so there couldn't be any way that they were talking about my George.

“Are you sure? His name would be George fabian? It says he lived at 10808 Cherry way.” he persisted. The coffee stain on his blue uniform was roughly the shape of Texas as it stood painstakingly obvious.

“My husband is in the kitchen. I don't know how but you've got the wrong person. He is not dead because I was just looking at his face.” I stated. I mean I can't just be hallucinating his face, his scent, his overall aura it just wasn't possible. Plain and simple they were wrong because what I saw once I turned around was George. It was him 100 percent, his cheeky smile, and broad shoulder sat just parallel to mine. George wasn't dead. He couldn't be his red shirt, his brown hair was all clear and unshakable.

“Please may we come in to see him just to be 100 percent sure this is indeed George Fabian.” He interrogated his fellow policewoman standing by quietly as she was completely silent. I suddenly had an overwhelming feeling of Deja Vu, her downturned dark circle's eyes looking around inside. 

At that moment it felt as if I was encased in reality's cold clasp like a layer of ice covered my whole body. If I moved in the slightest I would shatter like a glass hitting the hard ground. Remnants of my body scattered across the honey hardwood floor. I and George picked out on the wall of Home Depot last spring. In the milia seconds of memory, I had before I passed out on the bleak floor I had remembered the day leading up to this night in time this day was unexplainable.

Monday sept,7,1987

I had awoken to the smell of bacon which was a) surprising and b) suspicious. George even as handsome as he may have been wasn't usually wouldn't awake at this hour and certainly not cooking. Cooking being his worst ability yet. He was a man of great caliber this just wasn't one of them his best skill being craftsmanship he was a carpenter and a handyman he had been for 10 years starting at age 15 along with his dad George senior who we all just call Georgie.

“What are you doing? This isn't like you. what's got up your shorts?” I questioned as I slid behind him towards the coffee pot it was still full and steaming.

“Well I thought I would do something for you since I've been a little distant lately” he stammered his PJs still on. He stood in his usual hunchback way starring over the eggs. 

“Well I've got to get ready for the day the law firm has a big client and I've got to look good. So in order for me to look my best pick a number 1 through 5?” I waited. I knew his response would either be 2 or 4 because he was a strict even-numbered persuaded guy just like his mom.

“Number 2” he acknowledged. He knew my antics. I was a person who liked options and didn't like making a choice, therefore there were always a number of possible outcomes and never a way to choose one of them. At that instant, I felt ecstatic about the day. I had breakfast with the man I loved not to mention, he picked my favorite outfit out of the lineup. The outfit was a black pantsuit with a red blouse and red pumps.

“Well I've gotta go I'm gonna be late for the millers they have a lot of work needed to be done on there tutor,” he stated as he ran out the door he was always running late. 

I didn't make it to work that day because fate had another plan for me you see while I was getting ready I dropped my earring and I bent down to pick it up I saw something hanging out of the end of my bed it was neon pink and lacey I sat on my knees and pulled it out. It was a thong and well it wasn't mine. George had been cheating on me, a man who I committed 15 years of marriage to. Cheated on me. At this wrinkle in time, it was as if my heart disintegrated in my hands like a block of ice melting away.

“10,9,8 breath in and 7,6,5 breathe out” I repeated to myself. I heard once that a good coping mechanism when in immense times of trouble was to count backward from ten because if you can stand anything in 10 seconds than not too long after that it will get easier but my heart couldn't take the pain it felt as if my heart was seizing up and that no air could get to my lungs in time I scrambled to the kitchen and grabbed a plastic Walmart bag to breathe into but it didn't help ease the pain I was mad and sad and I couldn't let go of the fact that he didn't love me anymore at least isn't that what happens when you fall out of love with someone you cheat on them with someone else. 

After the grief of knowing my one love had deceived me. I sat down on the loveseat he bought me for one of our anniversaries and prepared a shot of whiskey whilst I called in for the day. I needed to think. I questioned his motive. Was it me? Was I not pretty enough anymore? Was it because of all the late nights I was having lately? Was it because I was not satisfying in bed?

That day I was gonna win him over. I put on makeup. I curled my hair and I even made his favorite dinner spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread and salad. When he got home I was going to surprise him and put the moves on him and then he would for sure fall in love with me again. right? 

“Hi honey... welcome home” I exclaimed while I jazzed hands and twirled, showing off my outfit. I always loved a theatrical entrance. It gave a sense of showmanship.

“Oh I didn't know you would be home so early,” he questioned, his face was sweaty and squinty probably from a long day of work.

“Yeah, I just thought since you did something sweet for me I'd do something sweet for you so I made spaghetti and meatballs just the way you like,” I informed him with a smirk from my plastered on red lipstick.

“Oh okay… well, I just need to get in the shower so I'm not as sweaty,” he replied.

 So I waited for him at the dinner table. However, as I sat down at the table I blacked out seeing only the clean dinner table before complete and utter darkness. When I awoke from the blur I was laying on my bed soaking wet so I got up and cleaned my sheets taking into account I haven't washed my sheets for a month. I was confused about what had happened last night? I came down the stairs to see George at the table. I walked up behind him.

“What happened last night... Did we party or whaaaaaat?” I giggled. I put my hands on his broad shoulders. His body was freezing cold.

 I shrieked out in horror. I turned to see his face was tinted blue. At that moment I knew that this wasn't just a normal blackout this something much more terrifying I had killed my husband and in this instant, I saw what happened when I blacked out.

 I passed out for 10 minutes and awoke to my alter ego putting benzodiazepine in Georges spaghetti. I sat there across from him at our dinner table and watched as he took his first bite and as he did. I felt nothing and absolutely everything. In this second I felt waves of hurt and anger and waves of uncontrollable nothingness. His face took a look of distaste and he swallowed and took another bite and then another and another. When he was subdued I put him in the car and drove to the bridge. I waited until the coast was clear and put his legs over the ledge and pushed his back. I watched as he dropped. I felt complete and utter happiness or at least think I did.

Thereafter, I had awoken and realized what I had done in a descent into madness I figured if I was crazy to just amplify it by ten and tell them that I was hallucinating when they came to ask I would say I had no idea that he killed himself and that I was just plain old crazy and use the lost of my 3 miscarriages as the “trauma” that had ended in my psychosis. Fast-forwarding to the police my plan was secured. I put on makeup to give the illusion I hadn't slept for days and I bit my nails to nubs. I was ready. I was smart and this was a secure option. I was gonna plead insanity because that was better than prison.

“Here please come in you'll see he's right there in the kitchen.”