Sharon slipped the letter into her husband’s travel bag hoping he would read her deepest confessions while he was away on his hunting trip. If it upset him he would have hours of peaceful contemplation in the woods to calm down and think. She hoped he would return ready to work with her on their mess of a marriage.
But he found it before he left.
“What the hell is this?” Matt demanded in a whispery shout, trying not to wake the children. He waved the sheaf of hand-written pages in her face as he confronted her by the dresser.
Sharon grabbed a fall sweater and turned toward the bathroom.
“I thought you could read it . . . something to think about in the woods . . .”
“You’re my wife!” His voice hissed. “And you have to talk to me through a letter?”
“Just read it.” Sharon started to tremble. Matt grabbed her shoulder and forced her to face him.
“I read the first page. That was enough. This is garbage. I can’t believe you would blind-side me like this.” He crumpled the pages and tossed them at her feet. “Throw that away. I don’t want the kids to find it and read that shit.”
Matt grabbed his gear and stomped out of the bedroom. “Bitch,” he mumbled under his breath.
Sharon picked up the pages of the letter and stood at the window to watch her husband drive away. He had been her best friend, she thought, her soul-mate, and now all she wanted was for him to disappear, have a hunting accident, never come back.
She smoothed out the pages and hid them under her jewelry box.
Copyright 2011 by Debra Chapoton