9. DIFFUSE

There was a time when Fridays brought a smile to his face. They meant good food and warm, red wine that mellowed the sharpest of moods. Through the diffuse vision of his inebriated eyes he would stare at Maggie, taking in her pretty, bow lips and pale, white skin, wondering how he got so lucky.

That was all before. The honeymoon period, a time for showing only the good, for pretending to be somebody you weren't. They ate each other's lies along with the blue-veined cheese. Drank down falsehoods like the finest vintage.

Now, he only knows it's a Friday because of his students. Like rats in a cage they act differently, they fidget and chat, pass notes and make gestures. They look happy. Excited.

It makes no difference to him. He stays in his office until late, studying texts, ignoring cleaners, swallowing thick, strong coffee as if it's the elixir of life. Always delaying that moment he has to go home, trying to find an excuse to avoid it. Because she might be dead, but her memory lingers on. Clinging to the roses she planted outside their cherry-red door, another lie to appease the neighbors, a way to mask the disorder within. Nonetheless, he gathers up his books, sliding them in his bag alongside the cellphone flashing with too many unread messages.

On campus, the air buzzes with the possibilities of youth. Students run past, hair flying out behind them, laughter cutting through the breeze. Try as he might he cannot escape them. They surround him like a swarm of bees, barely noticing his disdain, ignoring the way he flinches when their arms brush his. All heading for the same side of campus, where the faculty parking lot abuts the sports stadium—the Mecca for this crowd of traveling pilgrims.

When he climbs into his car, it's like the eye of the storm. Calm, yet strangely alive. Thoughts of Bella Swan merge with memories of his wife, stretching his sanity until the membrane is thin. One tug away from breaking.

Escaping one maelstrom for another, he drives to his house—the place he used to call home—ready to confront the demons that remain inside.