Save One Bullet

I had been waiting in Tom's car, hoping to get a couple of shots off before they saw me. But had second thoughts, seeing my future life in prison fly through my mind.

I ducked down below the dashboard and waited until Tom walked the Bimbo to her car. Using the cover of her car door opening and closing I slipped out of the driver’s seat and gently pushed the door shut. In a crouch, I waddled awkwardly around to the back of his car, waiting for her car to back out of the nearby parking space and head for the entrance. While he waved to her, blowing kisses like the damned fool he was, I made my escape and hid behind a trash bin until he followed her out of the entrance of the parking lot.

Once they were both out of sight, I collapsed on the pavement, shaking and hyperventilating, realizing just how close I came to ending two, possibly three lives tonight. As furious as I was, there was no way to justify murder. Did I really want to spend the rest of my life in prison because of that whore?

Our personal finances were a mess, and until that was sorted out, leaving Tom now was a losing proposition. I would be packing up my clothes, having a garage sale, and beginning my life over again at 47 with nothing. That was not happening. I didn’t put up with his shit and work my ass off for the past 20 years to be homeless, in debt, and single. I needed a plan and I needed to keep my mouth shut until my plan was put into action.

Staying out of sight of the security cameras, I retraced my tracks back to where I’d left my car and sat for a good twenty minutes, just drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, and thinking. I could not face Tom tonight. I would crumble and confess what I knew. I needed to keep this information between me, myself, and I.

Pulling out my cell phone I pushed his number and left a text message, ‘Hi, Hun, the nursing home called tonight about Mom. She’s having a bad time, so I’ll be spending the night with her. Sorry- love you. Tanya.’

Good. Now all I had to do was find a motel that wouldn’t blink twice at my weird get-up. I needed an anonymous place to get my thoughts in order before I screwed this up royally.

20 years, I thought bitterly. 20 years of always listening to this jackass and doing everything he thought was best for us. Good grief. What the hell was wrong with me? Our house had already been mortgaged a second time and once again we were looking at another bankruptcy, with our debts piling up even worse than before.

“I need a new car. I can’t be driving around a piece of shit to client’s businesses”’, he had explained to me like I was a toddler, incapable of making sense of the grown-up world of business.

I had folded, thinking he knew best. After all, I was just a substitute teacher in an elementary school. What did I know? What I knew was we couldn’t afford to live his lie. He was the only one who couldn’t see it. A country club membership with golf games every weekend. Dinners at the club that we paid for with an already over-extended credit card, which the bank was one payment away from snatching from us. His pricey suits and Italian shoes. He was able to impress Miss “I’m getting a raise.” I guess that was worth it to him.

Now we were in a world of financial hurt and if I left him now, I’d be leaving with the clothes on my back unless the credit cards took those back too. Hey, maybe I could get a job on a street corner? Or not. Who wanted to pay for sex with a 47-year-old woman who was going gray and had put on an extra two dress sizes during the pandemic?

Tom didn’t even want this for free.