A “masterpiece” in red and black was written across both doors of my Audi, which had only been in my possession for a little over a month. The marking is permanent. Lines that are thick.
Chaos that is abstract. Simply looking at him and asking, “Where did you get the markers?” was all I could do since I was unable to even talk. His body became numb.
They refused to look at me. Later on that evening, when I was searching for the vehicle keys belonging to my wife, I discovered the cap of one of the markers in the envelope. I challenged her, expecting her to either deny it or apologize for it, but all she did was say, as calm as she always is:
It was my intention to find a method to cause you pain.
After then, she left, despite the fact that she was aware of the affair. In the kitchen, I stood there, clutching the cap of the marker, and my gut was twisting like a towel that had been wrung out. I was really taken aback by what I had just heard.
It wasn’t because I didn’t deserve it; rather, it was because everything about it was so cold and planned. It wasn’t as if we hadn’t encountered any difficulties. It was us.
Still, I was under the impression that we were coasting. Marriage was not glamorous, but I believed we were coping despite the fact that we had two jobs, a mortgage, and a kid who still soiled the bed regularly. We were not, as it turned out.
I remained seated with the hat in my hand as I followed her into the living room. “What exactly does that imply?” I inquired about it. “Did you intend to cause me pain?
Why not via our son? The woman did not turn around. She did nothing more than sit on the sofa and promptly began scrolling through her phone as if she were anticipating the delivery of a pizza.
Miles, do you believe that you are the only one who gets to play out their emotions? Her voice was not very loud. I am exhausted.
It made me feel insignificant. It would have been better for me to say anything, anything that wasn’t defensive. The only thing that was said, however, was that “It was just one night.”
She laughed ferociously and cruelly.
“You believe that could make it even better?”
I turned my head to gaze out the window. The night has fallen. As the glass was being tapped against, a little rain had begun to fall.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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