Faithful

Michael had always trusted Emily implicitly. They had been together for over a decade, and in that time, he had never once doubted her faithfulness. An afternoon in late spring sought to change all of that.

He was cleaning out the attic, looking for old board games to play with their daughter, when he stumbled upon a dusty old journal. At first, he assumed it was one of Emily's old diaries, but upon closer inspection, he saw that it was filled with lists of names and dates.

As he read through the pages, his heart sank. Names with dates stretching back over the last several years. All men. The dates started before they were married, and... they kept going.

More than that, there was something written next to each entry. Red handkerchief - black rimmed glasses - wedding band. His mind immediately raced to a handkerchief his wife wore occasionally on her right arm. He hadn't given it to her, but of course he hadn't bought most of her wardrobe so what was another accessory?

Michael's mind raced with possibilities. Had Emily been cheating on him all this time? Not Emily. He refused to believe in that moment that the woman with whom he had spent the better part of two decades with was going behind his back. There must be some sort of misunderstanding.

He was about to denounce the whole thing and just forget that he had found the journal when his finger hovered over one of the dates. It was dated for today, but no cryptic item next to the entry. One Jeremy Rowles.

His heart beat violently in his chest. Emily said she was going scrapbooking with some girl friends that night. Scrapbooking? How could he be so stupid - that's so cliche that he should have seen it. Was it his fault that this was happening? What could he have done.

Michael came down the stairs with an old version of Candyland. He would play the dutiful husband just as his wife had been playing the faithful wife - and when she left for 'scrapbooking' he would break both masks at once.

From an outsiders perspective it looked like a beautiful family of three was playing Candyland, letting their four year old daughter win. Inside of Michael's heart however was a wild flurry of emotion and heart break. After Sara won two games of Candyland he said he'd need a break.

Normally NCIS was his relaxing show in the afternoon, but today all he could think about was how each suspect put on a front. Was his wife - that he had known for years, this good at acting?

He would find out.

"I'm leaving honey!" Emily shouted from the next room. He got up as quick as he could, slamming the la-z-boy footrest down.

"Hey hold on!" She stopped in the doorway, keys in hand, and a smile.

He rushed over to giver her a hug and a kiss goodbye "I love you." He said. He meant it too. For whatever might be going on, it's not as if his love had died down.

Still.

He felt like a fool. She was definitely hiding something. Her smile didn't reach all the way up, and there was something in her eyes. How could he have been so blind? What would he tell Sara?

He watched Sara back out of the driveway, and as she put the car in drive, he was racing to get into his F-150. He had never tailed anyone in his life, but his thought was that Emily had never been tailed either.

Deep in his mind he thought about what he would do once they got there. Would he confront her before - or during? The thought made his stomach turn sour. The early evening turned into night. Right. Left. They had passed Margaret's exit twenty minutes previously. So scrapbooking was a lie. He had been hoping secretly that it was all a big misunderstanding, but he knew.

She wasn't a half mile in front of him when she slowed to make a turn down a dirt road. This was -

He felt hot. This was their cabin. His grandfather's cabin. The cabin that they had spent their honeymoon in. The cabin that she and he - Fury drove him forward then. Anger his only motivation.

He slowed down a tad, reminding himself that he wanted to catch her so she couldn't deny it at all as some misunderstanding. He drove slow. Taking his time now that he knew where they were going he wouldn't have to be so close behind. A dirt road about two miles long, a left and then straight until you get to the clearing.

The trek would normally only take about ten minutes if you drive careful. Michael took nearly twenty. He needed to think. Think about what this would mean for his marriage, and for Emily.

The lights were on in the cabin and his wife's suburban was parked in it's usual spot. He could see a silhouette. His heart beat faster than he knew what to do with. His father went by way of heart attack, maybe that would be best now as well.

He crept up the steps, careful not to make any noise before the moment of horrible discovery.

When he opened the door, despite all of his thinking, scheming, and praying he wasn't prepared. Emily was standing over the body of a man, a bloody knife in her hand.

Michael felt like he was going to be sick.

Images floated in his mind from NCIS, where a serial killer keeps a small memento of each victim as a 'trophy'.

"Emily, what have you done?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Emily turned towards him, her eyes wide with shock. "Michael, I can explain," she said.