Loving Her

I saw them tonight. I stood outside our window in the crunchy dead leaves, curling my fingers around the window sill. They met warm wax, tingling, and burning at my fingertips. She had placed a candle on the window, indeed a romantic gesture for their infidelity. I peered inside.

Their silhouettes danced in the warm candles glow. She looked happy, and my blood was cold. The wax had hardened on my fingers, and so did I. Apathy grew in my stomach and spread. When I left them, under the candlelight, I could only think of revenge.

Tonight I am going to kill my wife.

I've been pretending to believe her. I've been acting as I care. She slips past me out the door under the guise of a girls' night. She lies through her teeth but I've devised a plan. I chose tonight long ago; it's our anniversary. I intended to celebrate.

Yet, when I came home tonight, the house was immaculate. I found my wife in the kitchen laboring over my favorite meal. She turned to me and smiled, feeding me a bite. The gesture made me falter. Love intruded my mind, and I began to question myself. What if we can work this out? What if she still loves me?

She approached and draped her arms around my shoulders, whispering sweetly near my ear. "Happy anniversary, baby." I embraced her, and guilt tugged at the corners of my mind. The sedative I bought that afternoon bounced around in my pocket as she guided me to the bedroom.

"You are so warm." She said, and I smiled, grateful for the praise. I was deprived and desperate for her approval. She used to think I was attractive. She used to call me brilliant. Would your mystery man plot your murder? Would he make sure you were his and no one else's?

"I love how protective you are." She was laughing, and I had to question if I was thinking out loud. We had reached the bedroom, and she leaned against the closed wooden door, turning to me. "I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" I asked and felt the excitement well inside of me. She was trying. Maybe we could make this work. She nodded. Her curls fell in front of her face; I had to peer through to see the chocolate eyes beneath. There was something in them. Like she had pulled my card. She knew something about me that was detrimental. But she just pulled open the door, and the room filled with warm candlelight. It lit up my face, and rage soared behind it.

I had been teetering between madness and love, and insanity won then. The candle brought me back to that chilly night, and all I could see was red, red, and the memory of her and lover. So oblivious to the world around them and who they hurt.

I grabbed her and threw her to the floor. She struggled and screeched in terror. But I pinned her arms down with my legs. I barely notice her efforts to deter me. My eyes were ablaze, and the veins in my neck and arms protruded as I squeezed the fragile muscles lining her neck.

Her face swelled from the pressure, but I couldn't stop. I tried, even when her face turned purple and red, and she stopped struggling. She had to pay for embarrassing me. She had to pay for lying to me. She had to be punished.

I tried to increase my strength further to finish what I started but found I could not. I began to feel a burning pain. It felt like venom moving through my blood vessels, replacing what was there with poison. It started in my hands, the muscles melted, and I could no longer squeeze. I lost complete control of my limbs. The burning pain traveled down my arms and legs, locking my body stiffly and forcing me to the floor.

I gasped for air, but it seemed my lungs were missing. My chest heaved, and I arched my back, groaning, and trying to reach my wife. At my most vulnerable moment, when the venom was seeping into the folds of my brain and erasing me. She came to my side.

She clasped her hand on my cheek, using the other to massage her bruised neck. "Honey, I poisoned you. I know what you've been planning. I know you were going to kill me, and I could not let you have the satisfaction." She slapped my face to wake me from slipping into the dark bliss beckoning for me.

"Do not die before I finish telling you all I have planed. I forged your signature on the life insurance policy. My lover and I will live happily on your money. In your home. While you rot away where no one will ever find you." I could no longer speak, but I burned with rage. My destiny was sealed, and my wife had bested me. I was slipping away quickly and in this last moment. I felt an admiration for my wife. My wife, who had outsmarted me and known me so well.

She did notice me. I watched her move over to the candle with labored breath. I choked out my last sentence. It was the only thing I could think to say. "I love you."

"I know." She said and extinguished the flame with two fingers, draping us in black.