Anniversary of a Lie

After sending off the last of the guests, I dragged my exhausted body home. What should have been a celebratory party turned into my punishment site.

The house was a mess with things knocked out of place. The sound of Harvey's sobs came from the bedroom, and he was crying so hard it seemed he might choke on it.

I had only seen him cry like that on the day he lost his wedding ring on a trip. I had spent hours soothing him until he calmed down and bought us a new set of rings. And now, his tears were flowing for someone else.

Bending over, I picked up a pillow from the floor and asked softly, "Is there something about the house that makes you unhappy?"

Instead of answering, he asked in a broken voice, "If I had answered her call last night, would I have been able to see her one last time?"

"And then what?"

My words stopped him cold, and he had no answer.

A heavy weariness settled over me as I gathered the scattered items on the floor. Suddenly, he shot up from the bed and dragged out a suitcase. Turning around, he opened the closet and began stuffing clothes inside.

The shirts I had ironed, folded, and sorted into neat stacks were now tossed in like rags, forming a tangled mess.

"I've packed for your business trip. It's the set on the far right."

Ignoring me, he rummaged through his clothes faster and faster, flinging them everywhere. When he couldn't find what he wanted, he started panicking. He grabbed my shoulders and shook me. "Where's that shirt? The white shirt with the ink stain on the collar?"

"It was yellowing, so I donated it. You already have plenty of white shirts."

His eyes flashed with a ferocious glint, and his voice sharpened. "Who told you you could touch my stuff?"

And with that, he slapped me hard across my face. Dazed, I stumbled back against the door, clutching my stinging cheek.

After life started getting better for both of us, I would donate clothes I could no longer fit into. He used to call me kind for that and said I could do whatever I wanted with his old clothes.

Now, my chest felt hollow. He wasn't packing for a business trip at all. All he wanted was to wear that shirt from Cassie to meet her one last time.

In truth, our anniversary wasn't until two days later, but he had to travel for work, so he decided to move the party up. I had found it troublesome and suggested keeping it simple. "Why not skip the party this year? Let's just have dinner with the family."

He had gently kissed me then. "No. You deserve a party and the best of everything, babe."

And now, he had canceled his business trip just to show up at Cassie's funeral. But what role would he claim there? A friend seemed too insignificant, and an ex-boyfriend would only invite mockery.

As I watched him frantically pack, I slipped off our wedding ring before leaving it on the shoe cabinet by the door. Perhaps it was time to reconsider whether we had any reason to continue this marriage.