Till death do us part. The words dripped with bloody irony. Like a stranger, I hid in the tree shadowed darkness. Even though this was my house, I was unwelcome. Tonight, I was the odd man out.

From my vantage point, I intently watched the bedroom window. For weeks I suspected this, but tonight it was verified. As much as I wanted to, I could no longer deny it. What should have been one silhouette grew to be two, and my imagination filled in the rest.

Looking back I never would have guessed this would happen to me. This was the stuff of books and movies; writers and directors crafted these scenes into fiction. In plotlines there are always warning signs. Did I ignore them?

Our wedding was bliss, it seemed like fiction, almost too good to be true. It went smooth like silk, not a single hitch. Apparently, they had all culminated into a goddamned devastation. What once was a relationship was now being murdered by faceless shadows above me. Sadly, one of them was my world.

My hand shook as I reached into my waistband. My fingers touched the cold steel of a semi automatic. Hatred and pain intermingled to create dangerous concoctions, as deadly plans sprouted roots. I wondered how it was going to feel to kill my wife of ten years. Would that time be wasted? I thought so.

The shadows above me continued the carnal dances. I waited patiently for the movements in the house to subside, as vomit crawled up my throat. I could almost imagine the bastard of a man buckling on pants and grinning a smug smile.

I listened intently until I heard the back door’s characteristic creak.

Straining my eyes, I tried to catch a glimpse of the man fleeing. After several minutes I started to second-guess my eyes. Maybe I missed him.

After a deep breath I stepped from the brush, crept to the front, and tried the door. The lock designed to keep danger at bay was in full force. Too bad I had a key.

“Honey? I’m home.” It surprised me how calm my voice remained.

Footsteps on the stairs and there she was. The adulterous bitch. Her hair was disheveled, and her body sported faded pajamas. I could only imagine the excuses forming in her mind.

“I was just reading a book,” she
inconspicuously checked a wall clock, “you’re early aren’t you?”

Was that panic I heard?

“You look terrible. Is something wrong?” She sounded and looked so concerned. “Your face looks flushed.” She came down the stairs and gripped my arm. My flesh tingled as if in the presence of some evil thing. I didn’t resist as she led me into the dining room and sat me down. I was in control. Tonight would go my way.

“What’s wrong? How was work? Did something happen?” She disappeared into the kitchen and I heard glasses being pulled from the rack. I didn’t even know how to begin telling her how I felt. How much did she already know?

“You’re awfully quiet in there,” she called from the unseen, “you haven’t answered me, is something wrong?" Ice clinked into glasses.

I didn’t have the energy for conversation. Looking around at the memories on the walls, I just wanted to scream, Was it worth it?

Pictures smiled from the walls forming an audience. The happy grins seemed to be mocking me, but after closer inspection the smiles looked forced.

She quickly reappeared holding two glasses of golden liquid, and she set one before me. The sparkling brown liquor reflected the lights of the room. Beneath the table I gripped the hidden weapon preparing myself. Should I ask why, or just shoot?

A baby’s cry shattered the silence and destroyed my resolve.

“Addy’s up,” she said, “I’ll go get him.”

Footsteps on the stairs, and she was gone.

A cold sweat came over me. Hot memories melted my nerves like ice. I remembered clearly the day Addy was born. He was such a beautiful child. The birth of life. The first sight of our child. As much as I hated her now, I still loved her. What was I doing?

I pulled my hand away from the gun and rested it on the rim of the glass before me. We could talk it out and maybe settle something. Maybe even without the courts. I silently toasted to Addy; he deserved a father and a mother, either together or apart.

I tilted the glass and pounded the drink. The alcohol warmed my body and I hoped my spirits would follow suit. I could hear voices on the stairs. She and Addy were talking in baby talk. She really was a good mother.

Suddenly, I felt so hot. The alcohol maybe? I fanned my shirt to beat the heat. Footsteps on the stairs, she was coming down.

My mind suddenly flashed and I was looking at the ceiling. (cont'd from the print edition)Was I lying on the floor? How did I get here? I thought the gun was beside me, or was it? Thoughts flittered and escaped like moths.

“Honey?” Her voice sounded slow, and the syllables elongated. The concerned voice I expected was now void of compassion; it now seemed so menacing. The room around me blurred and danced with stars. The thought to move crossed my mind, but nothing responded.

“Honey, you okay?” Her tone added to the coldness spreading through me.

My vision bubbled and popped like a lava lamp. Addy fussed somewhere close. Was she still holding him? There was a distinct creaking. Someone came through the back door. My chest was heavy and breathing became very painful.

“Hey baby,” an unfamiliar voice that could have been Satan himself echoed.

Suddenly it became all too clear as she cooed, “Addy, say hi to your new daddy.”

Footsteps across the room then darkness.

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