The room was silent, all except for the raspy wind, sounding like whispering women. Hermione Granger sat perched stiffly on the couch in front of the fire, a hot cup of tea in her lap and her eyes fixed upon the front door. She was yet again left waiting. Waiting for her husband to come home. Her mind was spinning, she suspected why he wasn't home, but she could never prove it.
The front door opened slowly, and her husband quietly entered their home and closed the door, trying to be sly and secretive.
"What are you doing my love?" Hermione said, her voice a thin whisper. Her husband jumped and turned to face her.
"Hermione," the redhead said, as if caught red-handed. "Thought you'd be in bed by now."
Hermione looked at him with an expressionless face, "when you didn't come home for dinner, I figured you were staying late at work."
"That's no reason to stay up for me," he said, as he walked towards her, but faltered before deciding to sit in the opposite chair.
Hermione continued to stare at him, but her hurt showed through her eyes and he looked down, afraid to even make eye contact.
Merlin, give me strength, Hermione sighed mentally.
"I'm going to bed," she said and stood up.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
It was the second time that week, Hermione thought as she sat, yet again, on the couch, waiting for her husband. The clock upon the mantel chimed one in the morning and Hermione sighed and put her tea down, it wasn't worth it.
Ron came home the minute she stood up and awkwardly stared at his wife.
"Late night at the office," he lied. Hermione could practically taste the dishonesty. She raised an eyebrow.
"Again?" was all she said.
Ron smiled, but it wasn't the same as it used to be. "Yeah, we have a lot to do this week, I have to write up a lot of reports for the missions we have done over the month. You know the end of the month is the hardest."
"For whom, Ronald," Hermione sighed, she was tired. Tired of waiting for her unfaithful husband to come home. Tired of worrying about the wellbeing of a man who didn't give a shit about her. Hermione was tired of loving a man who didn't love her back. She didn't know what she had done wrong, she was a good wife. She had her own job, but made it home in time to have dinner ready when he came home. She had loved him and kept it fun and sexy in the bedroom, so she certainly wasn't lacking in any area. Had she not paid enough attention to him? What had she done wrong?
"Hermione?" Ron asked, his brows furrowed.
"I'm tired, Ron, so so tired." She sighed again.
"Then go to bed," Ron frowned, confused.
Hermione nodded and sighed.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Hermione was pissed. Third time this week. She didn't even bother waiting up for him this time.
When he came home, he slipped into their bed, making sure not to even touch her. She waited until he fell asleep before she started to cry.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
"Who the fuck do you think I am?" Hermione said. Ron jumped three feet before turning around with wide eyes. He stood there speechless, his brows pressed together tightly. He was extremely disheveled, but the most incriminating evidence was the smear of bright pink lipstick on his neck and lips.
"I am a good wife, Ronald. I worked so hard to build up this relationship, I made sure I was home before you were so I could make dinner because I loved you. I am a good wife. I loved you," Hermione spat, her eyes blazing.
"Who the fuck do you think I am?" She repeated, loudly and harshly. "I can smell her on you; her horrible perfume. Every time you came home I could smell it. Every time you kissed me I could smell it. I could smell her. I didn't make the connection until I came to visit you at work."
"Hermione-"
"Seriously? Your goddamn secretary?!" Hermione blazed on. She was yelling now. "You weren't even smart enough to pick someone I wouldn't meet so I wouldn't figure it out? To think I married your stupid ass."
"Please Hermione-"
"You lied to me! For months! I was a good wife!" Hermione yelled. "You didn't marry some hussy off the street who wasn't smart enough to tie two strings together. No. You married me. You married one of the smartest fucking witches in this goddamn generation and you think you could get away with lying to me. That, what? I wouldn't figure you out?"
"Hermione please, it was a mistake. I love you," Ron tried.
"God! You seriously have the audacity to say you love me? You choose now? What about the months you came home late? I waited for you, every single time because I worried, but then you always had the same fucking excuses. I waited because I loved you. I thought that maybe I wasn't good enough. Maybe I'm not trying hard enough. Maybe I'm was trying too hard. Maybe I'm not giving you enough of myself. Or maybe, I don't love you enough." Hermione cried, her voice cracking. "I am a good wife!"
"Hermione, I'm sorry," Ron said, as he sank down on the couch. His head was clutched in his hands and she sneered. "I'm sorry. We can work through this, right?"
"I regret ever putting on that goddamn ring." She snapped.
Ron didn't say anything, only stared at the floor.
"Why, Ron? I just want to know why?" Hermione asked, reigning in her temper.
Ron looked up, "It-It started at just a one time thing. We went out to celebrate a great mission, and had too much to drink. After that day we avoided each other for a week, but then it happened again. And then again." Ron sighed. "I couldn't control it, it just happened."
"It. Just. Happened." Hermione repeated. "You couldn't control it."
Ron nodded.
"Who the fuck do you think I am?" Hermione exclaimed once more. Her eyes were teary and she quickly blinked. "I'm not stupid, Ronald. I was not born yesterday. YOU make your life choices. YOU made the choice to sleep with that bimbo. You did, not anybody else, so don't blame anybody else for your mistakes. You only have yourself to blame. Own up to it Ronald. Own up to the fact that your decision cost you your wife, and your marriage. Own it."
Hermione stalked upstairs and started to wave her wand. Her belongs shrunk themselves down and fit into her small purple beaded bag.
"What are you doing?" Ron cried out.
"What do you think? I can't do this anymore Ronald," Hermione said as she grabbed her bag. "I'm done. I can't sit and wait on the couch for you any longer. I wasted enough of my life with you, I won't waste anymore."
Ron followed her as she marched back down the stairs. He tried to talk her out of it, even suggested marriage counseling, but she ignored him.
"Keep the house, and your money, I've got my own." Hermione said, moving forward. She opened the front door, the door she had spent so much of her time staring at. That damn door was forever burned into her brain. She turned back to face him and slipped off her wedding ring. Tossing it at his feet, she turned and shut the door as she made her way to her freedom.