The Door

It could be the television? Might she have left it on this morning when she left for work? She could not remember having turned the set on, but then she couldn’t remember closing the bedroom door, either. A cold current of fear shot adrenaline upward from her tailbone, expanding through her chest, down her arms to spark her fingertips... an alert, something was not as it should be.

She didn’t normally come home for lunch, but she wanted him to find the bottle of “Old Fitzgerald Bourbon” when he got home. It was an expensive, and rare treat. He would be ecstatic!

She laid the card with its sexy message and the beautifully gift-bagged bourbon on the granite bar-top. “No,” she knew, “the sounds coming from the bedroom were not the television.” Her heart began a slower beat, a cautious beat, a life unravelling beat. A strange taste bit the tip of her tongue, metallic and sharp. She tip-toed to the door. It could not be... not on Valentine’s Day, of all fucking days?

Twenty years crouched behind that door, waiting to pounce. Can there be a fear greater than twenty years lost? Of a lifetime spent wasting? The door stared back at her with immeasurable dread. Twenty years of life, of love, and children raised. Twenty years working, and saving, and laughing. It just couldn’t be... not today. They had reservations for tonight at ’Velencia’s”, for Christ’s sake! They were supposed to grow old together. It was that time for them! Could he really be in there banging some twenty-fucking-something-year old intern?

But what if it wasn’t some intern? What if he was in love? Her mind raced, looking for missed clues. How long could this have been going on? He was with her on Valentine’s Day. What did that mean? Was it just an easy day for a star-struck seduction, or was there more to it?

Her lip was trembling now, joining her fingers. Her chest was weighted, crushing her breath. What if it was Lucy? What if she lost her husband and her best friend in one life-draining swoop? What would she do then? That would be unbearable, would it not? He and Lucy had always been close, casually flirtacious. They were even cute together, how they got along so well. “Oh, God... could she have been that blind?”

And what would she do? Not about the cheating, but with the rest of her life? She did not want to be alone. She loved her life, the life they had built together... she loved him! Perhaps she should sneak away. She could act like it never happened. The kids were at college, they would never have to know. These things passed quickly sometimes, if left alone.

There was a, “shush”, from behind the wall. They heard her. They heard something. She began to panic. Should she run? She reached for the knob, and threw the door open... loosing the beast that would devour her.