Second Time Lucky
She was alone as she kneeled beside the overly fragrant bushes. Her body hunched up as her knees dug further into the mud feet away from the entrance as the touchy couple sat on a bench. Just like she was alone two days earlier in the store picking up items from the reduced isle, just so they could eat for another week relying on her small salary alone.
Alone. The letters fell apart, spinning in her mind as if taunting her, before coming together one more time before fading to a picture of her marriage. She could still remember every detail. How they posed for the picture and right before he whispered I love you. Her head turning at just the right time as the photographer, who was more of a family friend than anything, snapped away. Truth, beauty and love he called the picture when they picked it up.
Realisation hit her like a brick wall. She'd been alone in this relationship for a while. Ignoring all the warning signs and red lights. Insisting to herself he was just tired, quiet or that it was her, always moaning and grumbling just like he told her, and after all his word used to be her law, wasn't that love? She asked herself. No the truth echoed back.
It was just her refusing to believe this could happen to her, innocent, happy-go-lucky her but it did. The one thing she wanted to avoid after seeing her own parents marriage end. Her mother got lucky with love after and her dad didn't. Was this It for her now? They always said she was just like her father and she loved it, but now it didn't seem so fair.
She was nothing more than a shell of the girl who met Mike. Over time erased by him into the perfect, ignorant trophy wife that those of her past no longer knew. If only she realized before when her calls from friends began dying down until she had no one left.
"Well no longer"
She murmured aloud as if cementing it as truth in the air. Raising her hand to her eye she wiped away the trace of the only tear she'd shed for him and their marriage, before dusting herself down and heading back towards the red truck that awaited her.
The red Chevy truck was another thing that would have to go as It stalled the second time on the short journey as she turned into her drive. Climbing out of the iron heap she slammed the door and marched over to the front door. Her mind-set on nothing but the goal at hand. "Goodbye and fuck you" She smiled, a worthy title for the current scene before her.
As soon as she stepped over the threshold of the house she once believed she'd raise her kids in, the pent-up anger and frustration hit her like a slab of concrete. How long had she been fed lies? How long had she been content with her imaginary version of events?
Like a guard dog catching a scent she launched herself into action. Grabbing a black bag from the kitchen before pounding the stairs that would take her to their bedroom.
To any stranger this bedroom could pass a show room in Ikea. The only thing that made it theirs where the withered books that stood on the night stand to the left of the bed, and the black and white picture of their wedding on the right.
The bed was made up in the royal blue bed-set they got when they were married which she found ironic. Making her way over to the closet she slid open the door that opened up his side. Her hands grabbed whatever stood in her path, pushing the fabric to the bottom of the bag.
She wondered how many of these clothes he worn with that skank. Did the other girl even know about her? Know that the clothes she was taking of dirt bag Mike his loving wife had bought for him.
Yeah, dirt bag Mike, It had a certain ring to It.
Stopping for a minute she made her way over to the bed they once shared and perched on the edge.
Biting her lip she refused to look at the picture that showed a happier time, instead reaching her hand out and pushing the frame down.
Grasping the bag full of clothes tighter she left the room, running down the stairs as she dropped the bag at the bottom of the steps before turning into the front room.
For the first time in two years she realised what the odd feeling around her was. The feeling that long ago associated itself with this house. What echoed of the painted walls and stoic furniture. Loneliness.
She'd been living on her own for a long time. Her marriage only existent on paper and rare times where they'd be in the same room before he had to go to "work" The only other proof of their connection was the pictures of their wedding. The one in their bedroom and the other on the mantle piece.
How long? She questioned herself. How didn't you know? Her conscious asked back. She knew for ages but feared the truth. Something in her always told her this wasn't normal.
But she always pushed it to the back of her mind. It was her nagging too much, or he was just tired just like he always told her and she never thought to question him. He loved her and his word was law.
But the deeper truth why she ignored sat blazing in her mind, staring at her with its creepy knowing smile.
She thought of her parents once more and how love was more like luck. How her father had his broken and how he become a withdrawn version of his former self. She always loved the comparison, but now It didn't seem so great when she was facing the rest of her life alone at only 23.
She sat back on the sofa making herself comfortable as she gathered all her strength. Awaiting the tidal wave of shit that was soon about to hit her in the form of her scum bag husband.