one step forward three steps back
But finally, my departure was inevitable. After a fleeting embrace, I left Katherine's house. Oh, what pain it caused me to leave her!
The first step outside the door flooded my mind with thoughts and worries. All the problems I had pushed to the back of my mind resurfaced again, hammering at my heart.
One step, then another.
Orson. What was I going to do about him? Did I still feel anything for the man I called my husband?
Another step, then another.
I had deceived him, and with every passing minute, my lie grew bigger and bigger. The guilt consumed me; it was horrible. But, deep down, I felt pleasure and satisfaction; I reveled in that guilt. Yes, perhaps I had deceived him. So what? What did it matter? He had lied to me at the beginning of our marriage. Conveniently, he forgot to mention that he had been involved in the murder of his lover. I wasn’t the villain here!
One step, more steps.
And yet, I knew I would have to be honest with him—I owed him that. Because yes, we may have had our problems, but I cared for him. A smile crossed my face as I remembered our afternoons at the cinema, the two of us cleaning, my first orgasm... He had given me so much, and I had given him just as much...
Another step, I catch sight of the door.
The problem was how I was going to tell him... everything. How I was going to approach the situation, or how he was going to take it. He was a rational and calm man, yes, but one never knows how they’ll react to such news. For me, that reaction translated into rage when Rex told me about his lover. But Rex didn’t love her; it was purely physical. The difference was there: I truly loved Katherine, with all my heart.
More steps, more steps.
Yes, I think it would be best to talk with Katherine about how to tell him; after all, I wasn’t the only one involved in this mess. But now, just steps away from my house, I had to raise my head, smile, and hug Orson tightly.
I knocked on the door.
Orson opened, still in his robe and holding the morning newspaper in hand. He seemed surprised to see me there, as if he had assumed I was never going to return, that I would comfort Katherine forever. I expected him to greet me with a warm smile; however, his face was marked by deep circles under his eyes and an expression of displeasure.
“Ah, Bree. How’s Katherine? Has Dylan come back yet?” he said in a neutral tone, not letting his tangle of thoughts show.
“Um, yes, she’s better now. The poor thing was very upset, but fortunately, Dylan came back yesterday, safe and sound. We both talked to her and I think we’ve managed to straighten her out.”
“Ah, perfect.” He moved aside to let me in.
Something caught Orson's attention as he slowly closed the door. He could clearly make out a vermilion red car parking in front of Katherine's house, and the figure of Dylan stepping out from the front door.