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Rated: GC · Short Story · Gothic · #1071791
Darling...the story of a immpintent man who believes his wife is cheating on him.
Darling…
“Mister. Nothing is forever. Only death is permanent. Nothing is forever, except what you did to me.”
~ Ian Fleming, Diamonds are forever.

She came in late, as usual. She always came home late. Every single evening, she would arrive sometime around nine o’clock. I had hoped that at least on this one night she would arrive at a normal time, but she did not. I always heard her say that she had lots of work to do, but I knew what it was she did those evenings before coming home. She had a man, another man, someone who could please her more than I could. Ever since the accident I had not been able to please her, not the way I used to. I knew that she had found another man as soon as possible, the whore.
That is all I can see when I look at her now, a whore. Another man’s whore. One day I will make her pay.
She walked into the kitchen and smiled at me, “Hello Henry, I’m sorry that I’m late, but I was held up at the office.”
“That’s the third night this week, when are you going to tell him that you have a husband whom you must return to?” I asked hoping that I still sounded normal.
“She; my boss is a woman, and she knows I must return home, but she insists,” she said condescendingly. It made me sick to think of her wasting these lies on me.
“Oh yes, I am sure she insists. Now come; Dinner is getting cold,” I said smoothly as I gestured through the door into the dining room. I watched her walk through, and I followed her, watching her neck. Her beautiful neck. I noticed that she did not wear the diamond necklace anymore, the necklace I had given her exactly one year ago on our anniversary. I guess she thought that if she no longer slept with me then there was no obligation to wear the jewelry I had given her either. I felt anger surge through me, but I managed to suppress it.
I pulled out the chair for her and watched her sit down stiffly, as if trying to not expose herself to me by leaning down into the chair. “So, how was your day?” she asked as I seated myself.
“Well you know same old… Someone came to the door trying to convert me, but I managed to convince him to leave,” I said as a sly grin spread over my face. Too late did I realize I should not have said that.
“Henry, you told me that you were working on your anger. I hardly think threatening a salesman is controlling your anger,” she scolded me.
“I did not threaten him, I just asked him to leave,” that did not invite more conversation. The grin had disappeared from my face and I looked hard at her. She diverted her eyes and went back to her soup.
We ate for a few more minutes then she looked up at me again. Her blue eyes questioned me, why are you so cold tonight? What has happened to you? We used to talk, laugh, we used to love. I did not want to hear it, but the words were unspoken so all I had to do was avert my eyes and I would not hear them. She had ended our love by abandoning me, and going to another man. The whore. I began to fume with rage, but I managed to shove my thoughts to the back of my mind.
“Henry?” she had spoken, she had broken the silence, and now I had to look at her, “Henry, is there something wrong?”
“Oh, nothing in particular, it’s just I don’t get to see you as much as I wish I could,” I looked her right in the eye, and saw no hidden messages this time, she was not telling me anything.
“Oh darling I know, but I really have to work, I don’t get paid that much and if I ruin this story that will be it for me,” it sounded sincere, but I knew she never called me darling unless she was hiding something.
“You’re lying to me,” I hissed at her as I rose and began to walk towards her. I did not plan on standing, but my legs had taken control of my body and I could not stop myself.
“What are you doing Henry? Calm down, I have nothing to hide from you. Please, sit down,” she said as she rose and began to back away.
“If you have nothing to hide then why are you running,” I snarled as I grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards me. “Come on, darling, you can be honest. I won’t tell anyone I swear.” She tried to wriggle free but I tightened my grasp, then she struck at me with her other hand.
“Bastard!” she shouted it as her nails cut into my face. I stopped and reached up and wiped the blood from my cheek. Then I laughed, I put my head back and howled in laughter. “Stop it Henry, Please!” she began sobbing; tears were leaking from her eyes. I grabbed her other wrist and swung her to the right. She slammed into the wall and stopped fighting. She turned her head and looked at me; tears running freely down her face, “Please Henry, just calm down, take a few breaths, clear your head.”
“My head is clear, I know exactly what I want,” I said, and then I began to laugh again as my hands slowly crept up over her body feeling all of her curves. My hand moved further up, I ran my fingers over her body feeling every part of her. I felt her begin to squirm but I just held her tighter, “What is it darling; I used to do much more to you, why do you cringe at my touch? Is it because I’m not him?” I hissed as I lifted my hand from her breasts and put it to her neck.
“What! You are out of your mind!” She shouted, and would have gone on if my hands had not suddenly clamped around her throat. I do not know what came over me, anger filled my every thought and blood lust had taken control of my hands. I felt nothing and thought nothing, I just squeezed harder and harder. All she could do was gasp. I grinned and laughed as I tightened my grip. Her gasps filled my ears and bored into my brain; I could only silence them by squeezing even harder.
“Don’t worry Carol, darling, I won’t hurt you. I’m only playing,” I hissed as her nails clawed into the back of my neck. “It’s ok, all will be fine. I’m just having some fun.” Her eyes started to bulge, they pleaded with me, I just looked away and I did not have to see them, or hear the words they spoke.
My heart was pounding in my head, the world spinning around me. I heard her gasps, her breath getting shallower and quicker. I just closed my eyes and squeezed harder. She stopped fighting and stood there letting me choke the life from her. As I pressed harder I heard her pleading with me, coughing out the words, “Henry, stop. Please. Henry.”
Suddenly she went limp and the whispering ceased. She sagged in my arms and I let her go and watched as she slumped down onto the floor. I looked at her, bruises were already forming around her neck.
I stood and stared at her for a few minutes, and then I walked slowly over to the liquor cabinet. I opened it up and removed a bottle of brandy; I uncorked the bottle and took a deep swig. I tried hard to choke down the tears; she deserved it. That was all I needed to know. I took another swig. Then I myself sunk to the floor and sat there until I emptied the bottle. As I dropped the bottle to the floor I turned my head and looked at her body lying sprawled across the floor, her beautiful body. But it was a dirty body, stained with her betrayal. “Fucking whore,” I whispered to myself as I stood and looked at her. But now she was innocent again, in life she went to another, but as she lay dead she belonged to me once more. She was my darling again.
I supposed that we should finish our meal together. But not in those clothes, for her shirt had been torn. So I carried her out of the dining room and up the stairs of the old Brownstone all the way up to the third floor. Once I had dragged her into our bedroom I slowly undressed her, I slowly removed her clothes, lingering over every touch, just like the first time I was with her. I looked at her, splayed out naked on the bed, for a long while I just examined every inch of her naked skin. “You were beautiful,” I whispered as I leaned over and touched her skin. It was already turning cold; I ran my hands over her for a final time. Then I went to the closet and took out her favorite dress, a beautiful dress made of black velvet; I had bought it for her last birthday. I dressed her in it, and then I myself put on my nicest tuxedo. I picked her up and very slowly carried her back down the stairs to the dining room.
I set her down in her chair, and tipped her head back. Then I uncorked a bottle of wine and poured her a glass, I set it down in front of her and poured myself one. I then returned to my seat. I looked at her and smiled, “To you darling,” I said as I raised my glass, “Happy anniversary.”
I talked with her for an hour as I finished my food. Once I was finished, I carried her back up the stairs to our bedroom and I laid her out on the bed. Then I walked over to the bedside table and opened up the top drawer. Inside was my old service revolver. It had only one round left in the drum.
I bent over and kissed her full on the lips. Then I went and lay down on the bed next to her, my wife, my loving and caring wife, my darling. I rotated the drum until the shell was lined up with the hammer, then with a click I pulled the hammer back. I put my head back, closed my eyes, and placed the barrel of the revolver against my temple. I sighed, tears running down my cheeks, “this is where it ends…”
© Copyright 2006 George Richardson (ghrichardson at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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