God Ain't Gonna Help You Now

I’m in love. L-O-V-E. It’s a wondrous thing, these feelings. I’m in love with a man. That man is mine. We have loved each other for a countless age (…okay, maybe only a year and a half), but we love each other very much, like an old married couple.
His job takes him away from me. I don’t really know how his job can afford to send him to these places, but they do it somehow. Last week he returned form a trip down south in Florida. He was there for two weeks! Now, he’s in Hawaii for a month. A whole month! He knows I don’t like it, but he says he can’t help it. I don’t understand why he flies to the other side of the United States for a meeting he could have in the building he works in.
I have been waiting in airports for him longer than any plane ride. It was an hour yesterday, and three hours last week. I’ve made friends with several attendants and security guards. I don’t mind waiting; I would see him sooner than if he took a cab home. Today he is in Hawaii; I wish I was with him. I’m always the one stuck in our apartment, only leaving to go to the market down the street. I already know I am doing to envy him when he gets home, because of he tan he is going to get. He told me that he only has meetings from the morning ‘till mid-afternoon. Once his meetings are over, he’s gonna hit the beach and get really tan. I, on the other hand, have a lovely tan from the florescent lighting in our apartment.
I was cleaning yesterday morning, and I found his wedding ring in his bedside table drawer. It was in the way back, as if he was trying it hide it. I asked him why he took it off, and he said it was because he didn’t want to lose it in Hawaii. He acted strangely afterwards; I don’t really know how to describe it. He just gave me an odd look and resumed packing. If he didn’t want to loose it why was it in the back if his drawer?
The strangest thing happened to me today. I got a bill from a credit card company that I’ve never heard of. I usually leave the bills for my husband, but the letter had the words “Urgent!” and “Final Notice!” stamped all over it. I opened it, and mused over the numbers. I had no idea what I was looking for, but just as I was reaching for my checkbook, a rather large sum caught my eye. It was a huge amount of money going toward…plane tickets. Was this how he was getting all the ‘free trips’ to sunny and exotic places? By using OUR money? We can’t afford that! We live in a tiny apartment in New York, for God’s sake!
Wait a minute…two tickets to Hawaii? I’m still sitting here, and what, does he need another seat for his luggage? Then he must have-…no, no he wouldn’t do that to me, he loves me…Doesn’t he? Oh, stop being silly, of course he does! He wouldn’t do that to me.
…Right?
I don’t believe it. He did. We shall be having a little…chat when he gets home.
* * *
He’s home. I stayed here, making him take a cab. I am standing at the sink, filling a glass of water.
“I’m home!” he says in that sickeningly sweet voice.
“I’m back here,” I call back, forcing myself to sound happy. Which I’m not. He could have stayed in Hawaii for all I care. He walks-no, waltzes into the kitchen. Looking nice and tan…yelch. So fake looking.
“I’m gonna hit the bed,” he says. “It’s midnight in Hawaii.” He turns to leave, but I call him back. I sat down my drink on the counter.
“I have a present for you,” I say. The taste of false happiness on my tongue is making me sick. I made that weak brained thing of a man walk over to me. I took his hands in mine as I locked my eyes with his. “I know you haven’t been very good to me. I know about what you really did in Hawaii,” I say, finally allowing my voice to sound cold and sharp.
“What are you talking about? I was in meetings or at the beach,” he says calmly, but I can see he is tense. I drop his right hand and lifted his left. I show him my index finger and stick it in my water. He tries to pull away, but I had waited for so long to do this.
I put my wet finger on the nail of his ring finger, and began to slowly drag my finger downwards. “Stop,” he says, “you don’t know what you’re doing.”
I smirked. “Of course I know what I’m doing. I know exactly what I’m doing.” I can see the pure terror in his eyes. “Let’s just say that I made a little call to your office while you were gone. Imagine my complete surprise when they told me you didn’t get to travel,” I say, drawling out my voice. Never before had he seen me like this. I was always quiet and timid, I almost never objected to anything he said or did in fear of being rejected.
The makeup on his finger is wiped away, to reveal a solitary tan line across his finger. I look into his eyes, and see a variety of emotions. Everything from fear to sadness, even one of pity. “This is very interesting,” I say. “Your wedding ring is upstairs in the drawer, just as you left it. Yet, you have a tan line that would make me believe you were wearing it the entire time.” I’m having fun with this.
“Y-you don’t know what you’re talking about. I can explain!” he cried. I drop his hand and lean back onto the counter, waiting for his answer. He looked to the ceiling, as if God was going to put words into his mouth.
“God ain’t gonna help you now,” I say. “He isn’t gonna tell you why you bought two tickets to Hawaii, but I was still sitting here all alone.” I drill my eyes into his. He looks at me, his mouth hanging open as if he was going to say something. “Now darling,” I say, sounding sweet but dangerous and cruel. I grab his tie and lead him out of the kitchen. “I’m sure you are just exhausted from your long light. You go and rest; I’ll see you in the morning.
* * *
What the morning saw was a horrible sight; a man lay spread-eagle on a lawn, a kitchen knife in his chest and a wedding ring in the toe of his shoe. The police were called, and the man was taken to the morgue. The police searched the house and found a woman hanging in a bedroom, a smile transfixed on her face and a wedding ring on the floor below her, snapped in half.