Nine Slides On A Silver Flash Drive

I stood at the sink with my hands in soapy water. Six baby bottles sat on the drying mat.

Our two year old son pulled at the hem of Elias’s work pants. He dragged a plastic fire truck over his expensive leather shoes.

Elias did not look down. He pushed weightlifting shoes into his gym bag.

“Could you pick him up?” I asked.

“I need to get moving,” Elias said.

“What are your plans for our fifth anniversary?” I asked.

“Next Saturday,” I said. “You told me you were handling the evening.”

“Saturday the fourteenth,” Elias said.

Elias exhaled.

“Right,” he said. “I actually have a massive workload. Margaret is filling the director position by the end of the month.”

“I am asking about Saturday night,” I said.

“I will put something together,” Elias said.

I scooped our toddler off the floor. I had three more hours of this routine.

At nine o’clock, I carried a laundry basket into the living room.

Elias sat in the leather armchair. Three presentation folders rested on the glass table.

“You look tired,” Elias said. He did not look up from his phone screen.

“It was a long day,” I said.

Elias looked at my faded gray sweatshirt.

“You should put more effort into your appearance,” Elias said. “You walk around in sweatpants every day. It reflects poorly on both of us.”

“Reflects poorly on you?” I asked.

“Other mothers manage to look presentable,” Elias said. “You look like you gave up entirely.”

My jaw tightened.

“I will wear a gown tomorrow,” I said.

“There is no need to get defensive,” Elias said. “A little makeup and decent clothes would go a long way for your self esteem.”

“I am done,” I said. I left the basket on the carpet and walked down the hall.

Vance arrived the next evening. I stood at the kitchen sink and scrubbed the porcelain basin.

Vance stood on the patio holding a pale beer. Elias stood next to the gas grill.

“The new software rollout is a complete disaster,” Vance said.

“I thrive under pressure,” Elias said. “Margaret is looking closely at my numbers for the regional director spot.”

I watched them through the window screen.

“You checked all the boxes,” Vance said. “The career track. The property. The family.”

“But Clara keeps this whole operation running smoothly,” Vance said.

Elias adjusted his metal watch band.

“Honestly, man, if I met her today, I would not even ask her out,” Elias said.

Silence rang in my ears.

“She has aged ten years since the wedding,” Elias said. “She just completely let herself go.”

Vance laughed loudly.

“Marriage is a trap,” he said.

“It is a business arrangement,” Elias said. “She handles the house. I pay the mortgage. But there is absolutely no spark left.”

At eleven, Elias slept soundly on his side of the mattress.

I thought about the conversation on the patio. I had spent five years giving up my technical career to raise his children while he chased his promotion.

The illusion that my husband found me desirable was gone. He openly viewed me with contempt.

The bathroom light at six was unforgiving. I leaned into the mirror and pulled the skin back at my temples.

There it was. The line from my nose to the corner of my mouth. Elias had said it like it was a fact about the weather.

I watched the skin gather under my chin. I had fed two children from that body and it showed.

Vance had laughed, and Elias had laughed with him. I stared at my reflection and wondered exactly how I was going to destroy them both.

Page 1 of 10

Continue Reading →

The post Nine Slides On A Silver Flash Drive first appeared on America Focus .