First Time For Everything, Even Death

***Sensitive content warning: Sexual violence, physical violence, abuse***

“If you don’t think you can handle it, you can still back out.”

I have never so much as gotten a parking a parking ticket and now I’m going to commit cold blooded murder.

As my mom would say, “First time for everything, even death.” I just don’t think she meant it this way.

“Lauren, are you listening to me?”

I snap back into reality.

“I said now is your last chance to back out, it’s now or never.”

“Shit or get off the pot” grandpa would say I think to myself. Are these constant reminders of the lost a sign that I’ll be with them soon? No, I can’t keep thinking like that. I’m the one in charge today.

“Yes I am ready. I am not backing out. I am doing this.” I say with my head held high but my shaky voice doing an awful job at masking my fear. I never thought I would find myself in this type of situation, but then again I don’t think anyone ever does.

“Okay good. One last time then, I'm tracking your location and is connected to your ear piece in the van. I’ll be parked nearby as backup for you just in case.”

All I muster up is a nod of agreement. I hold my breath as I walk up to the door. I put the keys into the door and unturn the lock. The familiar blare of the TV greets me first.

“Hi honey,” my husband chimes from the next room.

“Hey, how was your day?” I ask like I normally would.

“A bear. But glad it’s over now,” he responds. “I already dropped Lilia at my mom’s house to get a jump on our weekend alone.” he responds.

“Thank you for doing that. I’m sorry it’s so late I was going to order dinner but everything is closed now. I’m gonna work on making something and I’ll come get you when its ready.”

I head to the kitchen and when I am almost done with his favorite, chicken parmesan with pasta and I call my husband to dinner.

“I’ve got your insulin ready to go on the counter for you probably best to take before we eat. The sauce has a lot of sugar don’t want your blood sugar to spike.” I offer as a warning.

“Thanks darling.” he remarks as he injects the needle into his stomach. I try to take a few deep breaths and keep my composure.

It was always a flaw of mine that the unfamiliar no matter how enticing or forbearing sends me into an anxiety sprawl. I try my best to control my breathing without making my coping so obvious. I wipe my sweaty hands on the kitchen towel and when James is not looking I swipe it across my forehead for good measure. I just pray I don’t break out in hives.

“I am in charge today.” I recite in my head like a mantra. I remind myself of why I am doing this and the anxiety subsides enough for me to be able to think.

I wonder if he can tell how on edge I am. If the perfectly normal words I am perceiving are actually happening. Yet, an animal can sense fear so I remind myself to hold it together. As I set the table, the blasé conversation amongst us almost makes me think James is the lucky one for being so close for dead. This silence has become a common occurrence in this marriage, if that’s what I even still want to call it. Calling myself his wife feels like a title I no longer want to claim.

As we sit down for dinner, I let James drone on about his usual complaints to distract from my heightened vigilance. It’s not working. James won’t touch a bite of his food or a sip of his wine. I would be a fool to think he just happened to not be hungry for the first meal in his life.

That’s when I hear it. “Hey hon” he quips. If I wasn’t so on edge I would have hardly noticed the subtle change in his voice. There was an added annoyance in his inflection. I knew what was coming before he opened his mouth.

“You didn’t want me to drop Lilia off at my mom’s this weekend to enjoy a weekend together did you?” He questions clearly already sure of the answer.

I try my best to not react, but I know he sees right through me.

“What why would you ask that? What else would I have in mind? We’re you expecting a surprise?” I retort.

“No honey I wasn’t, but I think you were.”

“I’m not sure what you mean by that?” I play along,

“Cut the shit Lauren, you and I both do. Do you really think I wasn’t going to find out about your little escapades?” James hisses. He has dropped whatever decent tone he began the conversation with. All I hear now is pure malice.

“Baby you’re scaring me what are you talking about?” I say in a higher pitch tone, the baby voice that usually worked on him yet he remained stone-faced.

“You haven’t touched a bite of your pasta Lauren. I see you watching me like a hawk waiting to see if I’ll eat mine, because you poisoned it you fucking bitch.” James quipped clearly not holding back. The charade had ended.

I gasped. “James what the hell is wrong with you? Why would you think I poisoned your food what is going on?” He usually believed cluelessness.

“It’s really time you drop the act Lauren, you think I don’t have cameras, you think I don’t know what’s going on? Doesn’t take an idiot to see you’ve barely touched me in weeks. Of course at first I thought there was another man, but one search of your google history led me to something much more sinister—my wife is trying to kill me. I’m not eating this shit or anything in this house for all I care, I don’t trust you. I’ll be getting my affairs in order and going to the police with my evidence tomorrow. I want you out of this house now.”

I think about arguing keeping up the rouse, but all I say is, “Yeah James the jig is up. You and I both know where all your income is coming from now and as long as it’s from trafficking young girls, I won’t ever look at you the same way. Good luck going to the cops, if you do so will I. And if I can’t kill you, I’ll divorce you.”

“Get the fuck out of my house now!” he hollered.

“Our house.” I say as I turn off the television and walk out the door without more than the coat I grab on the way out.

After a few hours of waiting in the van, I go right back home.

The house is quiet as I expected with no stupid television blasting this time, finally. I take James’s phone that I stashed earlier in the evening and place it on the counter.

I walk up to our bedroom to find the door locked. It’s an old, pesky, lock. It often gets stuck, and without a second person on the outside to help, there is no way of getting out. I asked James to fix it months ago—no luck on that it seems.

When I do open the door I find exactly as I suspected, my husband’s lifeless corpse nearly blocking the door. While I’m no detective, it was clear to me he tried escaping to reach for help that was never coming to his locked door.

I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. My plan really worked.

James always thought he was smarter than me and he was always wrong. His underestimation of me is exactly the reason he was so lazy and unsuspicious. I tracked and followed him one night after too many red flags. What I found was worse than anything I could have imagined and I knew I could no longer stay married to that man, one way or the other.

He is so predictable the only thing he cares about it sex, so much he will ignore anything else. He always wanted to have me try something new for him, like I was a toy to him. When the sex began to dry up he had to know why. I’m sure my perfectly curated search history ended with a lot more than he bargained for.

He made it easy for me with his own ignorance, the man couldn’t remember when or how much Insulin to take if his dear wife hadn’t done it for him. The amount I gave him will never show up as suspicious, but coupled with not eating it was presumably too much and sent him into a diabetic coma just as I had hoped.

Yes, I could have gone to the police, but then I would lose everything as his wife that I worked my ass of for if they seized our marital assets. I’m taking my daughter far away from here and never looking back. I feel bad for Lilia, but I’d rather her have a dead dad than one that does such inexcusable things. She’ll never have to know the awful things I had to find out. I made a choice for myself and for her to never deal with the utmost disappointment that someone you love could be capable of such evil.

I check his nonexistent pulse for good measure and then give him as nice kick to his balls as hard I as I can without bruising his corpse, because fuck him that’s why.

“How’s that for something new for you honey?” I say with a smirk.

I swing out back to see my backup at the ready.

“Is it done?” he asks.

“Yeah, it dad it is.”

“Ok kid, let’s get the hell out of here then” my dad says as he dials 911.

I have to remind myself to cry when I pick up Lilia and tell my mother-in-law her son is dead because in actuality, I couldn’t care less.

I am glad he is gone. I am in charge now.