Broken Vows

Broken Vows

Dew covers the window, briefly impeding my view of you, my dear husband. I should be thankful, since watching you flex your muscles for the giggling blonde sickens me. My jaw aches as Blondie touches your arm and your lips curl in a smile. That’s what I call her, “Blondie.” Others would perhaps go with something more vulgar, but you know me better than that, don’t you?

Just like I know you better than Blondie knows you. She hasn’t spent nineteen years with you as Mrs. Nathaniel Wilson. Is your ring such a burden that you had to remove it? Mine is ever with me around my neck, since it no longer fits, yet I don’t want a new one, this one is still perfect, even if our marriage isn’t.

I keep my wedding ring, closer to me than our wedding photo. Our wedding photo stays in my purse, with me always. Oh, I know it’s old fashioned. You always thought I was old fashioned, though. Isn’t that one of the things you like about me?

You leave your laundry lying around for me to clean and fold. You leave the toilet seat up for me to constantly put down. Little things that most women don’t like to do for their men, but I’ve never minded taking care of you. Even making you fun meals gives me pleasure. You’re the love of my life, of course, I’ll always take care of you. I always carry you with me, my love, even if you no longer carry me with you.

My hands tighten around the steering wheel while you hold her in your arms and kiss her.

Sharp anger courses through my veins. You’ve never kissed me with such passion! Trembling, I shift to the right, my side pressing into my metal coffee mug. “Ow!”

It’s enough to remind me to be more discrete. I slide lower. As I think about what punishment will suit you best, I almost miss you getting into your truck. I’ll never understand what drew you to the dark blue diesel truck, but I never could refuse you anything – even while I still drive this rust bucket.

Oh, you’ll deny the affair – you’ve denied things before. Remember the time we went grocery shopping and you insisted I liked oatmeal, refusing to get cereal? Our argument was so heated, security came and kicked us out of the store. You have such a horrible memory, don’t know? Otherwise, why would you be out with other women instead of at home, in bed with me.

As you drive away, I rub my wedding ring wondering what I should do next. Should I confront her now or later?

But Blondie is already inside, making my decision easier and giving me more time to contemplate what form of discipline will work best with you and best for our marriage. As I drive past her house, my cell rings. I’m late for work again. If I’m fired and you become our sole supporter, you’ll only have yourself to blame. 

I do the best I can with my greying hair and smooth out the wrinkles in my scrubs. Somehow, I make it through the work day, even after several reprimands. All I can do is think about you with Blondie. Will you be with her again tonight?

I beat the steering wheel until my hand hurts. It’s not fair! I’ve been the dutiful wife all these years and you’re destroying our marriage without giving me a chance to fix it!

It took all day to think of the perfect punishment, but now I know what must be done. There is retribution to be had and I will dole out justice quickly and fairly.

Speeding through two red lights, I vow everything will come out today.

Finding you, my darling, is always easy with the cell tracker app. I roll my eyes. Of course, you’d choose this dump for your liaison; decent people no longer come here. As if proving my point, hoodlums lean against the poorly graffitied wall, taking up the entire sidewalk.

I wait for you inside the safety of my locked car. I don’t know how much longer you’ll be inside, so I quickly dig through my purse. This time, I’m prepared. Your cheating will end today, sweetie, that I promise you.

The hoodlums laugh, up to no good already. Their victims, an elderly couple trying to get into the movie theater. One masked man shoves the old man. I hesitate to get out. I’ve never liked bullies, you know that, but I don’t know how to help him. Thankfully, you make the decision for me. My heart melts as I fall in love with all over again. You’re a hero, scaring away the hoodlums and help the elderly man up.

Trembling, I wonder if there’s a chance for us after all. You’re alone and acting like your old self. Hope blossoms in my chest. We’re going to be okay. I know we will be. You’ll remember how much you love me. We’ll get counselling. We can move. I’ll switch jobs. It’s not a big deal. Our future shines brightly in front of me, a beacon of hope.

Until…

My guts twist.

…Blondie skips outside and takes your hand.

Grabbing what I need from my purse, I take a deep breath. I take my vows seriously. Obviously, you don’t. After tonight, you will. That’s another vow I intend to keep, you’ll see.

Until death do us part.

I shove the car door open. As you walk, hand-in-hand, with her, I gulp down the rising bile. You asked for this!

“Hey!” One of the masked hoodlums comes back. This time he's brandishing a weapon.

“No!”

My life.

My heart.

My world.

I run.

“Nathaniel!”

I'd do anything for you, even now, my love.

POP!POP!POP!

Your stunned face fills my vision.

Something bursts through my chest and trickles down my stomach.

My love. My heart. My world. You do care. You do love me. Your lips move, but I can’t hear you. Then all at once everything comes into focus. Pain. The taste of blood. The smell of asphalt.

“Is she going to be alright? Who is she?”

“I don’t know, honey.” 

Anger, a more familiar, more welcoming feeling than pain, courses through me. I’ve taken a bullet for you and you’re still lying!

“HusbandmarriedI…” I can say no more, but the physical pain is nothing compared to the agony of my breaking heart.

“You’re married?”

“Of course not! Call 9-1-1! Someone stop him!”

“What’s this?” Blondie kneels next to me, picking up the proof of your infidelity.

Although I’m drifting, I smile. I told you, everything will come out today. Floating in the sky, I see us. You. Me. You are my world. My heart. My everything. My body lies at your feet as you stare at our wedding photo.

You see? I keep my vows.

Until death do us part.

“I love you…” I whisper from above. “Always.”

# 

Nathaniel Wilson shudders as he stares at the photo. The paramedics work on the woman’s body, but he no longer sees them. The vein in his temple pulses erratically, as he finally remembers. Instead of paramedics and police, he is surrounded by friends he hadn’t thought of in years.

He was eight, fingernails covered in dirt.

His friend, Tommy, said, “You’ll love her for always? Gross girly cooties and all?” 

The girl beside him chewed on her lip.

“Sure,” he shrugged. He gave her a plastic ring he’d gotten from a quarter machine glad to be rid of it. He’d wanted the glow-in-the-dark slime, but the ring had popped out instead.

Tommy snapped a picture of them.

With the snap, the girl’s name comes easily. Darla Hammonds.

The photo floats to the ground, landing beside a ring on a broken chain; pink and silver plastic he’d given a girl when he was just a boy.

He picks it up, surprised his hands aren’t shaking.

“You sure you don’t know this woman?” An officer asks.

His mind races. How is this possible? “I haven’t seen her in almost twenty years.”

“How do you explain this?” The officer holds up two IDs – Nathaniel Wilson and Darla Wilson. “Is this your address?”

“I live alone.” The vein pulses harder. He stares past the IDs to the rusted car. He’s seen that car before, he’s sure of it.

He glances at Darla’s body.

There’d been an incident at a grocery store last year. A woman yelled at him about cereal. She wanted Fruit Loops. Although he tried getting away from her, she kept screaming at him. Security was called and she left.

All the confusing moments in his apartment flood him – missing groceries, food portioned out that he never remembered making, washed and folded laundry he knew he didn’t do, his Wi-Fi usage going up, the toilet lid always down.

He grasps his girlfriend’s hand, grounding himself, as the realization dawns on him. A doctor had diagnosed him with parasomnia. He’d always thought he was going crazy, but…

he hadn’t lived alone after all.

END