16: MEADOW

"Onyx, I've been doing a lot of thinking since you've been away in Vegas."

"And?" he says, taking off his shoes and then his socks.

He returned from Vegas a few days ago, but there's been an abnormal strain between us. He's silent whenever he's home, and he's been lost in thought.

Today, I had an epiphany. I truly love my husband, and he's stood by my side even when I was behaving like a bitch. I want to save my marriage.

I walk around to his side of the bed, grab his shoes and tie, and take them to his closet.

"What were you thinking about?"

"The way that I've been acting since the assault, and how I have pushed you away."

"Yeah?"

I turn around to find him standing in the doorway, leaning against the door jamb and watching me.

"I know that I haven't been easy to live with these last several months. And I'm sorry that I've made it difficult for you. I've just been in this place that I don't understand. A place that is difficult for me to find my way out of."

Onyx continues watching me, and I can't help but wonder if all my thinking and praying came a minute too late.

"And I know what you're going to say," I say, walking toward him.

He lifts an eyebrow and shifts his shoulder but doesn't say anything.

"You've done everything you can to help me, and I've resisted every effort. I'm not quite ready to go to counseling just yet, but I do admit that I need it."

He nods and waits for me to continue.

"What I'm sure of is that I need you, Onyx. I can't make it through this thing without you. Maybe it was too much to put on you alone or even myself. But I want my life back. In fact, I want it to be better than before. Do you think that's something we can work towards?"

I rest my hands on his shoulders and look up at him. Onyx glances away from me, and it tugs something in my heart.

"If that's what you want and you're willing to work at it, then I am too."

I smile and tip up to kiss his lips. There's no passion in the kiss he returns. It's perfunctory at best.

Onyx turns and heads away from me and towards the bathroom. I stand watching my husband walk away from me and taking his heart with him.

I know that Sharla went on that trip to Vegas with him. I called the office this week to ask for her under the guise of wanting to discuss the mural, but I was told that she was out of town on an exploratory trip and wouldn't be back until the end of the week.

I asked if she could be reached by cellphone, and I was told that she could. Then I asked a simple question, "She's currently three hours ahead of us in Vegas, correct?" and I was assured that I was correct.

My heart dropped, and in the days following, every horrible thought raced through my mind, especially whenever I couldn't reach Onyx in the evenings. He called me every night to check on me, but our conversations were brief and stilted.

I walk into the bathroom where he's already stepped into the shower. Removing my clothes, I step inside the shower with him, and he stares down at me in confusion. A frown mars his face, and I wait for him to pull me to him and hold me close like he once did whenever I would join him in the shower.

He simply sighs and says, "I'm tired, MJ."

"I thought that I might wash your back for you, O."

He nods and doesn't say anything else. He allows me to wash his body, but I feel him erecting barriers of steel that are more impenetrable than those that I've already erected.

When I touch his dick, it doesn't even grow hard. It remains flaccid in my hand, and I bite my lip to keep the tears at bay.

I finish washing him before I step out of the shower and change into my nightgown. I glance at his phone lying on the nightstand. I walk around to his side of the bed and slowly drag my fingers across the screen.

It flickers to life, and I see a text from his sister, Danica. Unable to stop myself, I unlock his phone and go to his messages.

There's one name in his phone that's unfamiliar, but it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who it's from—Sharla.

I hold my breath and listen for him in the bathroom. He's still showering. My finger clicks the message, and I hold my breath.

SW: I want to thank you for dealing with our past so we can both be truly free for our future.

ME: Not necessary.

SW: What we shared the other night meant a lot to me. I don't think that our friendship has to end, though. You've made the lines pretty clear.

ME: I can't afford to go there, Shar.

SW: Not saying that we have to go there, but let's talk about it.

ME: Why?

SW: Too much history to ignore pretend we can work together comfortably without acknowledging that VERY BIG BLACK ELEPHANT present in the room when I enter. Our friendship doesn't have to end just because of what we did.

ME: We both know that it does. The temptation is too great, and it will always be that way.

SW: Maybe it will be, maybe it won't. Don't want shit to get awkward.

ME: Neither do I.

SW: Then let's just move the way we did before Vegas.

ME: It's hard to keep my hands off you.

SW: Then don't.

ME: Don't you tempt me.

SW: ??

ME: I love my wife. I'll never leave her, Shar. I just pray that she can forgive me for my indiscretion.

SW: You plan to tell her?

ME: I have to. I've never lied or kept a secret from her before. I'm not about to start now.

SW: Good luck.

ME: Thank you.

––––––––

Setting the phone back on the nightstand, I breathe in deeply before I turn and climb into bed.

Pain rips through me, and I'm tempted to confront him now. I'm tempted to leave now, but I won't. I need to think this through.

When he comes to bed, he pulls the covers over his shoulders and turns his back to me. I close my eyes and allow the tears to fall freely.

***

"Your lunch is in here, Onyx. Do you have time for breakfast with me this morning?"

"Uh no, I don't. But I promise that I'll be home in time tonight for us to have dinner together."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, baby. I promise," he says.

"Have a great day at work today, Onyx."

"I will. Are you going to the studio today?" he asks hopefully.

"Yes, I think I am."

"Good," he says, turning away from me and grabbing his keys.

"Don't forget dinner."

"I won't. Have a good day," he says before closing the door leading to the garage behind him.

I walk to the stove, remove the pan of eggs, and carry them to the sink. Scraping it all into the sink, I rinse the pan and set it inside the dishwasher. I grab the sausage and hashbrowns and toss them into the garbage before rinsing those pans and setting them inside the dishwasher, too.

Thoughts of that text message and images of what might have happened fill my mind. The pain in me is too great to ignore.

I didn't sleep at all last night. My thoughts ran rampant as I plotted my revenge. Now, I don't want revenge. I just want to leave.

After everything has been rinsed and stored in the dishwasher, I turn it on to wash. I walk out into the garage, grab the tire iron that's lying in one corner, and head back into the house.

Unlocking the China cabinet, I take the tire iron to every piece of China in the cabinet. These were gifts from his mother on our first anniversary.

I grab a butcher knife from the knife block on the counter and move from the dining room to his office.

I take the tire iron to his computer. Then I go crazy using the knife on his chair and the couch across from it. I head to his bar and take all the bottles out, including his Hennessy Paradis, the Macallan, and the Dalmore twenty-five-year-old and pour them down the drain of his sink.

I bash the bottles on his desk and then return for the Dalmore forty-year-old that he was reserving for a special occasion. Opening the bottle of malt Scotch whisky, I pull it to my lips.

Closing my eyes, I savor the taste of tropical fruits and rich toffee as it goes down. Setting the bottle aside, I continue destroying everything in his office, including his cabinet of sports memorabilia.

Heading upstairs, my next stop is our bedroom. I pull out suit after suit and take them outside to the backyard. I haul his suits to the fire pit at the rear of the yard.

It takes me several trips to get all his suits and several other favored items of his and dump them into the fire pit.

When I'm finished, I pour just a little gasoline onto one of the suits before I drop a match inside.

I grab the water hose and turn it on before I take a seat a few feet away from the barrel on a wrought iron chair.

"Burn, baby, burn," I mumble, watching the fire lick at the clothes inside.

Once it's burned enough, I turn on the water hose and put out the flames. I head back inside and set an alarm for two hours from now.

Climbing onto the bed stinking with the stench of fire, I close my eyes and rest. Only part of the pain that I feel in my heart has been addressed.

How could he do this to me?

***

After the alarm went off, I lay in bed a little while longer, crying and wallowing in misery. But after a while, I'd finally gotten up, showered, dressed, and waited for my husband.

Finally, I wrote a letter to him that I stuffed in an envelope. I took the clothes that I'd packed and placed them in the rear of my vehicle, and then I drove to his office.

At a little after eight o'clock in the evening, everyone is gone except for Onyx. There's only one other car in the lot, and it belongs to Sharla.

The reason that I know this is because she's standing beside her driver's side door, and he's standing in front of her. He's staring down into her face and saying something to her.

She's nodding, and she reaches up and touched his face. She leans in and kiss his lips, but he pulls away.

It's too late for that now. He went to a place that he shouldn't have gone. Worse still, he broke the sanctity of our marriage and the vow of trust that we shared.

I love Onyx, but how can I ever forgive him? How could I trust him again?