Till Death Do Us Part

Her coffee was getting cold. Arabeth looked outside the frost-bitten window, her feet tapping against the hardwood floor. Winter in Alaska was as morbid as it could get; blankets of snow piled up on driveways and streets, and frost gnawed on the wooden frames of the glass. The only thing that stopped her from shivering were the orange lights dancing around the ceiling. From The Diner (yes, that was the name of their local diner), she could hardly see anything, but that didn't stop her from trying. She felt a frown pull at the corners of her mouth.

Where was he? They had agreed to meet tonight, hadn't they?

From the reflection of the window, she could make out a few blurry faces occupying the booths of the diner. She knew a couple of them; it was a small town, after all. When she walked in at exactly 4:35PM (two minutes and 23 seconds earlier than she had planned to), she made sure to greet Mr. Finch. Mr. Finch always sat at the bar table, closest to the register. Since his wife’s passing, Mr. Finch would always come in around this time every Wednesday. He said it was a tradition that he used to have with Mrs. Finch.

Stacey would serve him his usual, two cups of coffee and a slice of chocolate pie. He would never touch the other cup of coffee.

Arabeth and Finch were neighbours, and she would help him mow his lawn every now and again. Well, Tom would mow his lawn every now and again. She would take the role of the supportive girlfriend and cheer for him while he heaved the lawnmower around. Tom was very good with his hands, and Finch loved him. Arabeth wondered if he’d like them to go over again soon.

Speaking of Tom, where was this guy? It’s been long enough, hasn’t it? She had been so good, never dropping her eyes down to her phone to check the time. After all, she didn’t want people to see her worried. Not yet, anyways.

She couldn’t help it this time, and with an eagerness that almost felt animalistic, she reached for her phone hungrily. Her screen lit up. 5:27PM. Nothing, as expected. She pressed on Tom’s name and her eyes followed to the last message he sent last night.

Good night, beautiful. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Xx

“That’s strange, he’s definitely meeting me today,” Arabeth audibly commented, and she could feel the person sitting behind her turn at the sound of her voice. Still, she willed herself to focus on the screen.

So now she knew that she had been at the diner for at least 52 minutes and 23 seconds. Still, no sight of Tom. His house was only a 10-minute drive from here. 20-minute drive if there was bad traffic.

Tommy lived in a quiet neighbourhood. It was his parent’s house, but after his dad passed away, his mum went to live with a friend and left the house to him. He quite liked having his own space, being an accountant, and appreciated the peace and serenity his neighbourhood offered. Arabeth always thought it was dull and mundane, but at least he liked it.

It was funny, though, because he never asked her to move in with him. Perhaps he was too busy to think about it, but he did give her a spare key. She had to work for it too, grovelling and whining about how she wouldn’t be able to surprise him after work, or water his plants, and he finally caved in after nearly four months.

“Hey Ari, darling, fancy a piece of apple pie?” Arabeth’s thoughts were interrupted by Stacey, the diner’s server. Stacey felt like a second mum to Arabeth; since this was the only local diner in the town, the youngsters practically lived here. Stacey always offered a warm smile and a toasty piece of pie to those she called ‘her family’.

For a brief moment, Arabeth allowed herself to think about her own family. A brother who became too successful to stay in touch, a dementia-ridden hag for a mother, and a dead father.

She smiled, “No thanks, Stace, not right now anyway.” Actually, it seemed to be the perfect time to bring up the topic. At least three minutes have gone passed since she last checked the time. “I’m waiting for Tommy, but he seems to be late.”

“Honey, I thought you two broke up!”

Arabeth sighed. She knew she had to be patient with Stacey. Well, it wasn’t just Stace, everyone had been asking the same question recently. Honestly, gossip travelled fast in a town like this one! She wondered which of their friends made up this rumour. It was a good thing that she had practised for this.

“We just have some arguments here and there. You know how men are, Stace!” Arabeth rolled her eyes. “It’s nothing too serious. He begged for my forgiveness this time, but judging by how late he is, I think I’m going to have to reconsider!” She joked.

Stacey laughed with her. The laughter sounded genuine. This was going well.

“Oh, thank goodness, Ari. When I saw him come in with Bel two weeks, I thought the two of you ended things for good! I’m so happy everything went well,” Stacey beamed, but the damage was done.

“Bel? Isabelle Turner?”

“I’d say so.”

Whore.

Arabeth felt herself tighten up. Ducking her hands underneath the booth to hide her shaking, she recomposed herself. Two seconds was all she needed.

“Ah. That’s his work friend. Good at her job too, or so he’s told me. I heard she’s happily engaged,” as she said this, she felt her fingers twist, nails scratching and pressing against the palm of her hands.

Bitch.

Hearing Stacey’s heels clink further and further away, she dropped her smile and grabbed out her phone. Now would be a good time to call, she thought. It has been too long.

Trash.

As expected, he didn’t pick up. When Tom bought his car, a Honda Civic, she had offered to pay extra for built-in Bluetooth to connect to his phone, but he refused.

“Better safe than sorry, especially when you’re driving out here, Ari,” he had grinned. Always the careful one, that’s what she loved about him.

In fact, there were so many things she loved about him. His dad jokes, the twinkling in his eyes when he winked, the feeling of his lips against hers. She loved that she was his, and he was hers.

When she heard the beep, signalling her to either end the phone call or leave a message, she hesitated. It only took her 1.5 seconds to make her decision, though.

“Hey baby, it’s me. I see that you’re being careful on the road as always and ignoring my call, but I'm just checking if you’re okay. We were meant to meet almost an hour ago, so I wanted to make sure that you didn’t forget. Or decide to ditch me. Or both,” she laughed, it felt appropriate.

“Anyways, I’ve called in sick tonight so I’m happy to wait for you at the diner until you show up, I can’t wait to see you. Please let me know if there’s anything wrong, or if there’s something I can help with,” She paused again and let out what seemed like a shaky breath.

“I love you, Tommy. See you soon.” As she hung up, she caught another glimpse of the time. 5:58pm. It has been one hour and 23 minutes since she’d first arrived.

She suddenly felt a little nervous, they hadn’t spoken to each other since that last fight. She couldn’t, for the life of her, remember the exact reason as to why they fought. She probably complained about how he was always so busy and never made time for her. What did he respond with? Whatever, it wasn’t that serious. After all, he did agree to meet her today. He also asked her to bring the spare key with her. She wondered if there was anything wrong with his front door. She would have to ask him when he got here.

As if on autopilot, Arabeth reached into her bag and wrapped her hand around the stiff edges of the key, almost as if it could disappear any minute. Brushing her right thumb against the tip of the key, she pressed until she felt a drop of hot sticky substance run down her thumb. A wave of pleasure rushed through her as she worked hard to stop her body from shaking. Slowly, she dropped her head back, and she felt at ease.

Outside, the steady snowfall had turned into a full-blown storm. The snowflakes looked like icicles as they pelted down onto the hood of cars. She knew that most of the customers had left by this point, probably rushing to pick up their children. Or rushing to go home and prepare dinner. She allowed herself to wonder what that would feel like. Rushing home to cook dinner for Tommy.

She had never thought about the possibility of becoming a housewife. She always saw herself as an independent woman who was quite happy to be alone for the rest of her life. But after she met Tommy, she often found herself daydreaming. Dreaming about kissing him goodbye as he left for work, humming to herself as she wiped the tables and mopped the floors. Heck, she even had visions of herself in a pink apron, cooking his favourite pasta! She was hopelessly devoted to him, hopelessly in love with him.

It was impossible to see herself with someone else. She wished she could say the same for him.

It was an accident, that Tuesday night. She was never meant to be there, but she was. There.

He had texted that he was working late, so she wanted to surprise him. It was around 8:45PM. It had been raining too, and she remembered this because of those muddy footprints that snaked around his front patio. Two sets of muddy footprints, so she should say. The light to his bedroom was the only light illuminating the whole house.

She recalled being quite frightened; whoever tried to sneak in seemed to be in a hurry. She didn’t know what came over her, but she followed those footprints and, as silently as she could, treaded into the house. Perhaps it was the thought of Tommy being hurt that pushed her into the living room, or perhaps she already knew what she would see. Still, she didn’t forget to grab a carving knife from the kitchen on the way up those stairs. After all, safety first, right?

She didn't have to walk much further to see it. To see them.

Thinking back, she wondered if she had locked the front door. She was being ridiculous, she knew, but as Tommy would say, better safe than sorry.

In fact, she was sure that when the police dug up Isabelle’s dead body from Tom’s backyard (they’d definitely bring the dogs to sniff out his place, that’s for sure), they would find that fucker’s fingerprints all over her filthy body. Arabeth didn’t even have to do a thing.

As for Tom, well, he would be a harder one, but the police could probably argue that the blunt force trauma on the back of his head was the result of a lover’s (or cheater’s, she should say) quarrel gone wrong. Tom then flipped out, and stabbed Bel 58 times. But as he dug her grave, he felt so bad, felt so dirty. How could he have done such a thing? What was his mother going to say? How will he ever look into the eyes of his beloved girlfriend? With all that guilt suffocating him, he decided to shoot himself in the face.

Tommy was right, guns in the house do come in handy sometimes. 

Of course, she knew how to play the innocent partner card, she’d seen her mother do it before. It really wasn’t that difficult. She had painted herself as the perfect girlfriend, and even took the time to leave extra photos of the two of them around the house.

Her left foot was starting to feel numb, but she couldn’t move now; red and blue lights danced in the distance. She placed her right hand back into her bag.

With her other hand, she picked up her ice-cold coffee and sipped. “Coffee’s sweet today, Stace!”

Before she could place the mug down, Arabeth heard the doors burst open. She didn’t look up, but she wondered back to last night. Tommy’s phone. She was sure she had turned it off before stuffing it back into his pocket. God, her memory was getting worse and worse, she’d have to talk to her therapist about this when they meet.

“Excuse me, Miss…uh, Miss Waterstone?”

Arabeth knew what to do. she had practised for this.

“Yes, sir?”

She allowed her eyes to meet the policeman. With his eyebrows furrowed, Arabeth could see the regret that laced at the corner of his eyes. The look seemed familiar to her. She pressed her right thumb harder.

She could feel her eyes watering. She only needed four seconds.

Her Tommy was dead.

She let out a scream.