Housewife.

It was foggy that day. A slick dewiness hung in the air as Mary gazed out the bedroom window. There was little sun peering through the inky clouds. Freshly washed laundry danced in the yard, strung up on the clothesline only hours before. She hoped the weather wouldn’t ruin her hard work.

Fixing her blouse, Mary hurried downstairs to finish preparing for her husbands return. Robert had been gone for a little over two weeks.

“It will be brief, just outside Connecticut.”

Or so he’d stated before briskly rushing out the door. She never knew where he went. A part of her didn’t want to know.

She had replayed his departure over and over in her head, flipping though an old recipe book as she did so. Robert always expected the finest dinners and desserts from his wife. And to Mary’s displeasure, with little appreciation. Knowing her husband would want something special for his return, she finally landed on a faded card that had long lost its date. Her mother’s handwriting neat and pronounced, spelled out three words: “Chocolate Fudge Cake”.

Perfect! She knew Robert would love it. Mary began to work, mixing together each ingredient with care. She sifted the flour, added decadent chocolate chips and just a pinch of salt. Taking her time, she poured the rich batter into the cake pan and placed it in the oven. He’d be home any minute and she couldn’t keep him waiting. Mary washed the flour off her hands, wiping them on her apron before checking herself in the ornate hall mirror.

She noticed the thin lines forming by her eyes. The tiny grey hairs that began at the crown of her head. Small, intricate details that weren’t there before, all signs of a life long-lived. Shaking her head, Mary turned away from the mirror. She had no time to focus on it now. Sitting down on the couch, she waited patiently.

“Honey, I’m home!” boomed Robert, rushing in with two large leather suitcases. Mary’s head shot up, startled. How long had she been sitting there? It felt like hours. Checking the old clock on the wall, she saw only thirty minutes had passed. ‘The cake should be ready by now’, she thought.

Robert wasted no time making himself at home. He kicked off his shoes, with little regard for the carpet Mary had spent hours vacuuming. She sighed softly as she made her way back to the kitchen.

“Did you miss me?” Robert sneered, collapsing into the worn suede armchair by the window. It’s once brilliant blue fabric had been reduced to a dim grey. Mary stayed silent, taking the fresh cake out of the oven. It smelled delicious.

Working with caution, she quickly iced the cake with fresh chocolate ganache. Not only did it smell wonderful, it looked perfect.

She set the table quietly. Everything had to be picturesque. Placing the cake on a serving tray, she carried it to the centre of the quaint dining table. It looked like something out of a movie, and Mary was quite pleased with herself.

“It’s ready.” Mary called softly from the hall.

“What?”

Robert had opened his newspaper, reading through the tabloids. He folded it briskly before placing it on the armrest.

“The cake.”

Getting up from his chair in a huff, Robert wandered into the kitchen and sat down across from his trembling wife. She carefully cut him a slice, the smell of chocolate filling the brightly lit room. A smile crept across her face. She knew he’d simply love it.

He took a bite. Turning his head upwards to face her, Robert nodded in approval. Mary watched silently.

He took another bite. Something tasted off. Had she made this for him before? Surely he would’ve recognized a flavour like this.

He lifted the fork back to his lips hesitantly, taking another bite. It felt like fire. His chest began to burn violently. Robert felt the pain shoot up his throat, igniting his body with an unbearable agony. In a matter of seconds, the torture was too much to bear. He clutched his chest, catching his wife’s icy stare.

“What... what have you done?” Robert’s face contorted, gasping each word. Mary slowly sat up from the table, walking to his side. Adrenaline flowed through her veins. She lowered herself to meet his ear.

“You didn’t think I’d notice, did you?” Moving the cake towards him, she watched as her husbands body slumped forward.

“The lingerie you carry for her. You left it here. It’s hanging outside for the neighbourhood to see. I’m surprised you didn’t notice it. Then again, you always were an idiot!”

The dead air was brought alive with her small laugh. Robert’s mouth filled with foam, spilling over his lips. Mary glared at him. She felt nothing.

“They know what you’ve done. And now, so do I.”

His face dropped into the cake. The last breath of air escaped his lungs. Cold and lifeless, laying silent in the mess of chocolate. Mary straightened her apron, hearing the clink of the small, empty bottle tucked in her pocket.

She had some cleaning up to do.