void
I watched as Orson stared intently at something outside the house, as if it were a ghost. He stumbled while closing the door and rushed upstairs like the wind. I could hear him rummaging through cabinets and drawers on the upper floor.
“Orson? Are you okay?”
No response.
Curious, I climbed the stairs two at a time and peeked through the doorway of the room. I watched in astonishment as my husband carelessly tossed his personal belongings into a large suitcase lying on the floor. His gaze was vacant, his face furious; like an elephant, he destroyed everything in his path.
“Orson! What on earth are you doing?”
“I’m leaving, Bree! I’m leaving! I don’t know what’s going on with you! These last two weeks, you’ve been cold, distant. All you talk about is Katherine, only Katherine. Fine, I’m not going to sit here twiddling my thumbs, waiting for the day you suddenly throw divorce papers in my face. Not a chance!” he yelled, spitting with every word. His face turned shades of red, darker and darker; his eyes filled with tears of anger and helplessness.
“Don’t be ridiculous! You’re making things up! For God’s sake, Orson, you’re blowing this out of proportion.”
“You don’t talk to me, you don’t touch me, and you lie to me! Oh yes, I’ve discovered your falsehoods. Now explain yourself, because I don’t understand why you’d deceive me like this—it simply doesn’t make sense!”
I was stunned. Could it be... that he knew? I couldn’t understand how he might have found out. Was it my change in behavior? My good mood over the past week and a half? I felt my heart sink deep within me, my mind completely blank. My memories with Katherine flashed before me, like scenes from a movie: our first kiss, caresses, whispers, the first “I love you”...
It was true that I could deny it, call him crazy. Whatever his evidence, it could easily be dismissed. “Oh, Orson, stress is making you overthink,” “Orson, it’s just a cake event; it’s not like we’re having an affair,” “Orson, you’re imagining things... I love you.” But each and every one of those thoughts disgusted me, twisting my insides into a tight, painful knot. No, I couldn’t lie to him... It was time to confront the truth.
“I... I...” I began to cry. “Orson, it was so sudden... And... no, I didn’t want this. But you can’t control what you feel. Katherine and I... Orson, I think I’m happy. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to deceive you, but...”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“My affair with Katherine, of course! Orson, I don’t know how you found out, but I’m sorry you learned this way. I... I love Katherine.”
He stumbled and turned pale. His mouth fell open unconsciously, and he had to sit down.
“I was talking about the lie relating to Dylan...” he murmured.
٭٭٭
After hours of intense debate, shouting, and accusations, Orson left the house, taking a suitcase and a knife to the heart with him.
٭٭٭
I didn’t know what to feel, I didn’t know what to do. Where did I leave the Chardonnay bottle?
٭٭٭
“Bree? Bree?” Katherine’s voice sounds distant, muffled. I feel her gently patting my face, trying to wake me up.
I wake slowly, opening one eye, then the other. I’m lying on my bed, dressed only in a robe and a cheap bra. Katherine sits beside me, her sweet face etched with a worried smile as I sit up. A sharp headache pierces through me; everything spins. My eyes burn. A cold layer of sweat creeps from head to toe.
My last memory of the previous night... Or could it have been the afternoon? It goes back to uncorking my fifth bottle, maybe the sixth. The void left by Orson’s departure, the pain of our final goodbye, the way he found out about everything... I did it wrong, all wrong. And now, all I had was a new recycling bag, a terrible headache, and an imminent divorce. I buried my face in my hands, inconsolable and lost. To think that less than a day ago, everything was perfect, peaceful...