Writing Prompt

I stared at the red liquid as it swished around my glass impatiently; the food grew cold as the minutes ticked on. I huffed before taking a sip of the wine. I sighed, my worries and anxiety making the red wine tasting like a thick sour and tart syrup, I grimaced at the taste before setting down my glass. The silence was starting to get to me; ‘Where is she? She said she’d be home after dinner.’ I huffed, starting to become worried. I bit my lip as I took another sip of wine, trying to drown my worries. It’s been two hours since dinner ended. My ears perked up as my wife walked through the door. I stood up immediately, worrying clear on my face. "Are you okay, my love?" I asked, watching as she took off her heels; Her hair was messy and dishes, her dress slightly wrinkled, her makeup was slightly smudged. She rolled her eyes but gave me her sweet honeyed smile. Gods, how her smile makes me weak... "I'm fine darling, I just went out for a few drinks with Mark." she replied, gently caressing my cheek. I sighed in relief, leaning into her hand, knowing she was safe with my brother, "thank the gods.. I was worried," i had mumbled, "You worry too much." She remarked, abruptly taking her hand off my cheek. "I only worry because I care." "Yes, but you care too much, darling." She plucked a cold biscuit from the table as I stood there, gazing at her. She made a displeased face at the scold biscuit before she santured off to the bedroom to turn in for the night. I couldn't help but sigh, feeling a terrible feeling in my chest and gut. 'What did I do wrong?' I thought before I downed the rest of the thick red wine, following in my wife's footsteps to turn in for the night. Unable to stop feeling like something was a miss...

It was a typical night. Carlita was crocheting a shawl while Davy was idly flipping through an old magazine. Dave Matthews Band played on the stereo and half a bottle of the good red was gone. Pretending to read a news magazine, Davy shifted over and over again in his favorite chair. A half smile flirted across Carlita’s lips as her hands moved rhythmically. Davy’s phone beeped. Fumbling his magazine into his lap, Davy lurched for his cell phone. His face brighten as he scrolled through his messages.

ElizaDoNothing: No one understands me like you DavyNotDavie: Ive never felt this way. Im like a schoolboy and we haven’t even met in person or spoken on the phone ElizaDoNothing: You are my shining star Davy DavyNotDavie: Are you sure we can’t meet this weekend for coffee or something? ElizaDoNothing: Im so sorry my mother is sick you know real sick so many medical bills DavyNotDavie: Oh no Im so sorry baby is there anything I can do ElizaDoNothing: You too goodYou are good enough to eat

Behind his hand, Dave chuckled. Suddenly, Dave looked up and his face pinked. “Something came up at work, hon,” Davy said. “I’m going to get things sorted out. It should just take under an hour.” “No worries, sweetie. I’m going to catch up on some reading.” Carlita continued crocheting as Davy hurried out of the living room. She picked up Davy’s discarded magazine and looked at the cover headline, Love Bytes: How RomanceBots, Love Scams, Predators are Changing the Face of Dating Apps. Carlita tossed the magazine back on the sofa. She gave a harsh laugh and poured herself the rest of the good red.

You got his number and thought I would be mad

But actually, I'm kinda glad

I don't know what happens on your screens

What words are said, what messages he reads

But the only reason he talks to me is because of you

And there is no mistake we can ever undo

I like him

You kinda like him

He likes you

And he talks about you, it's true

I like him

I don't know how he feels because I'm not him

Does he like me?

Are we not meant to be?

I'm here, right here, not apart by one mile

But your there, right there apart by every mile

You may feel confident behind that screen

But I'm here and I'm not you, not trying to be mean

But there is no memories you can erase

No time you can repace

And it's awkward for me here

And there is a lot of stuff I cannot hear

I bet ever since y'all were texting about crushes he knew

So let me tell you this now, what you did to me, I will never do to you

But it all happened

But not it the way I imagined

You got his number and thought I would be mad But actually, I'm kinda glad

I don't know what happens on your screens What words are said, what messages he reads

But the only reason he talks to me is because of you And there is no mistake we can ever undo

I like him You kinda like him

He likes you And he talks about you, it's true

I like him I don't know how he feels because I'm not him

Does he like me? Are we not meant to be?

I'm here, right here, not apart by one mile But your there, right there apart by every mile

You may feel confident behind that screen But I'm here and I'm not you, not trying to be mean

But there is no memories you can erase No time you can repace

And it's awkward for me here And there is a lot of stuff I cannot hear

I bet ever since y'all were texting about crushes he knew So let me tell you this now, what you did to me, I will never do to you

But it all happened But not it the way I imagined.

They had only been talking for a couple of months but she could already feel herself breaking her own rules and falling for him. Given the many betrayals and heartbreaks she had been dealt in the past, she began to feel alive for the first time in a long time. He seemed to be everything she needed. He always seemed to be the reason a smile appeared on her face. The way he insisted that they talk on the phone just so he could hear her voice. The good morning texts and conversation that continued throughout the day. The comments that led her to believe he was infatuated with her and that he had been for some time. His claim that he had never done nor felt anything like this before. Even the many instances where they unintentionally crossed each other’s paths. Everything about him seemed too good to be true.

Home at last, a familiar sight awaited me inside. The couch untouched and made perfectly, vases with fresh flowers stemming out, the birch wood table and a 4D tv. My house was one no short of luxury but i am not as lucky as it seems. At this point i did not know the fact that shakes me to the core today. While i was downstairs my husband of 10 years was fucking our maid. My trust was violated that day. I knew he was working at home lately, so I decided to walk upstairs. As i tiptoed towards the room, planning to scare him, I heard the bed creaking. Curious to know why I pushed the door open. The maid had pitch black hair tied into a high pony on her head, her skin was ghostly white and she was crying. My husband was on top of her moaning. Her mouth was covered. It was clear she didn’t want this. I lunged towards them, grabbing the emergency knife in the draw. His back gashed open spilling its crimson contents outwards. I heard a sigh of relief from the girl as his hand fell off of her. He wasn’t dead just injured. The woman was a lesbian and he said he could “change her” but i as a person know that you sexuality cannot be changed by men, in-fact I’m a bisexual. I love this women and we are now dating and as of my husband he died after i rubbed it in his face that I got the bitch. Now who’s oblivious?

Emma’s phone buzzes once again, illuminating the bedroom. The sudden burst of light consumes my view. She snatches the phone from the dresser and clutches it tightly to her chest, giggling slightly. I peer at her under the covers, trying to snatch a glimpse.

“What is that?” I ask her calmly. She pulls the phone down, locking her screen with a click. She offers no response and snuggles beneath my shoulder. I reluctantly let her crawl back in, ignoring her little secretive message.

I sink back down into my pillow, shutting my eyes at long last. I hear wailing next door and so I’m pulled out of bed for the fourth time this evening. I make my way into the baby’s room, stepping on at least 3 stuffed animals as I try to navigate to the crib.

Baby Charlotte giggles at me, spitting in my direction. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her from the crib. She giggles once more, hitting me on the nose with her small hand.

I rock her back and forth gently, soothing her down within a few minutes. Soon she lays asleep in my arms, holding onto my thumb with two of her fingers. I peel her off softly and gently lie her back down.

I make my way out of the room and walk back to bed. I catch Emma laughing at her phone once again. Her phone flashes as she takes a picture of herself. I give her a quizzical look, trying to make my displeasure more obvious.

Things like this keep happening more and more often and yet she never has any explanation. Emma always just blames me for trying to start something when I’m just worried that something is going on with her.

I trust her wholeheartedly but something seems off. I crawl back under the covers, the bed groans at me with the additional weight. Emma scoffs next to me and I don’t even need to hear her to know what she’s thinking.

I’m too fat, too ugly, too different from what I used to be. Her eyes no longer light up when she sees me, my presence doesn’t make her smile. Our worlds are more separate then they ever have been before.

But, I still love her and I know she loves me too. There is nothing that could possibly come between us.

It was barely 7AM and Helen was already driving herself crazy. She hadn’t slept in days. Hadn’t eaten, bathed, or bothered to run her fingers through her hair since she came to find her beloved home reduced to ash. She still hadn’t heard from her husband since before the fire, who was on yet another fatally-timed trip with his business partner somewhere without reliable cell reception, and the radio silence had her spinning. The only solace she had was in the form of a mostly-burned up folder containing various tax documents and receipts she’d found near the final flames that took away her home. She’d been staring at them for so long, so many days now, that she was certain she was seeing patterns where maybe there were none. “Someone’s lying to me, I know this for sure. I’m just not sure why they’re lying, or exactly what they’re lying about, or even how long this has all been going on… Okay, so what I really know is next to nothing, but I think it’s starting to add up and this all seems very fish-“ Helen was interrupted mid-sentence by a waiter loudly clearing his throat. He was dressed unusually chic for someone working at a dingy dive restaurant, and he was standing a little too close considering her eyesight was at crotch level. Opting to crane her neck to look him in the face instead, Helen said, “I’m sorry, are you waiting for me to order? If so, I’ll take an unending supply of black coffee and some personal space, thanks.” And with that, she immediately went back to muttering to herself over a mess of rustled up papers and wrinkled receipts. The man took a step back and laughed. “I’m not here to take your order and I’m not your waiter. I’m the owner. I came over here to ask why you’ve been scaring off all my regular customers the past two days by talking to yourself about conspiracies and god knows what else. Don’t you have a home or a padded cell you should be doing this in?” As rude as the words coming out of his mouth were, he managed to say it with a beguiling smirk while sitting down at the table next to her. Begrudgingly, Helen forced a smile and asked him his name. “It’s Marcelo, and you haven’t answered my question.” Helen shuffled her wrinkled and torn pages together, attempting but failing to control their unruliness before stuffing them into an equally dismantled folder and setting it aside. Sighing, she said, “If you must know, no. I have nowhere better to be, and if I did, I certainly wouldn’t be here. I came here to use your Wi-Fi because it’s free and there’s never anyone in here so I thought I’d be left alone.” Sucking air in through his teeth, Marcelo said, “Ouch! While I’m sorry to intrude on your privacy in my wildly unsuccessful establishment, I’ve decided I can’t sit idly by while you spout nonsense about your husband and his partner planning something as ridiculous as nuclear war or whatever in their downtime.” Helen’s jaw dropped. “I… I didn’t realize I’d been talking loud enough for anyone to hear me.” Again, Marcelo laughed. “At first, I tried to mind my business. But now that you’ve clearly been up for days without sleeping and have gone down a rabbit hole that would rival Alice in Wonderland, I can’t sit back and watch you continue to grasp at conspiracy straws any longer.” Helen, getting defensive, said, “Wait, I don’t think I need some stranger to come in and-“ Marcelo put his hands up and said, “Sorry, that probably sounded harsher than I intended. A lot of what I say does.” Rubbing the back of his neck in a kind of humanizing gesture, he continued, “What I should have said was since I’m familiar with what you’re going through, maybe you’d like an outsider’s perspective on the situation.” Despite his demeanor softening, Helen scoffed. “No offense,” she said now with her own sarcastic smirk, “but I can’t imagine a lowly restaurant owner would be the right person to help me with something that goes this deep” Marcelo shrugged and said, “I thought you might say something like that”, and stood up. Before he walked away, he handed Helen a napkin with writing on it. It said, “Your husband burned your house down. He’s fucking his business partner.” At this, Helen laughed incredulously and called out, “Oh yeah? It’s really as simple as that, huh? And how would you know?” Turning toward her one last time, he said, “Let’s just say I’m a guardian angel… one who was paid to burn the house down with you in it, but didn’t.” And with that, he walked out of the restaurant’s front doors. Furious, Helen sprang to her feet in an attempt to run after Marcelo but due to lack of food or lack of sleep or most likely both, she collapsed. When she came to, Marcelo was long gone and a concerned waitress was kneeling beside her. “Where’s Marcelo? Can you tell me where I can find him?” The waitress raised her brow and said, “Who’s Marcelo?” Confused, Helen pleaded, “The owner of this place! I need to find him, please.” Looking puzzled, the waitress explained, “The owners are a lesbian couple and they almost never come in here.”

When we got married we had the prettiest wedding. Me and him instantly knew that more children was the best option for my daughter so she wouldn’t be lonely. We had two boys and another daughter. As we grew old together we decided to recreate our first date. We walked for hours and didn’t wanna stop we never got tired next to each other we kept on walking and talking to each other we knew we would stop eventually. I didn’t want it to be any time soon. I promised him near the end of our walk that the we would come again. The following year we found out Jake had a deadly disease called Tuberculosis. We knew he wouldn’t live longer but he still wanted to walk again. We fulfilled all of his wishes his last two wishes were to change his will and leave everything to me and the kids. His last wish was to go walking with me together. We walked for hours until I said I love you and he said he loved me then he smiled and said bye. He right there passed on Friday 11:06 the same time we met and I saved him. I am glad that me and him could have 37 awesome years together walking and watching the sunset every day.

I know he’s lying. He has to be. When Henry and I got married, he told me that golfing was for loser old guys who only care about retirement. Henry’s more adventurous than that. There no way he could ever be golfing with his buddies. It’s ridiculous.

Henry and I have been married coming up on 6 years. It’s been crazy. We both never planned on settling down, so it was insane to think getting married was truly what we wanted. I never expected to become Mrs. Mackenzie Powler, but it’s what I had signed up for, for a lifetime. We always thought that it was better to be married to each other, than someone who wasn’t brave enough to experience life. That’s the one thing I knew was right about us. We brought out the best in each other, and never held each other back.

He knows I never expect anniversary gifts. It’s very unlikely he’d be getting that. I mean, maybe he went to visit his Mom or something. But would he lie about that? No. It was something else.

Bringgggg! Bringgggg! “Hello?” I answered in a muffled voice. “Henry, where are you? I’ve been waiting here for 20 minutes!” A woman exclaimed. “Who is this?” I asked, confused. “Alexa,” the woman answered. “Who is this?” “It’s Mackenzie,” I started. “Uh, how did you get this number?” “I-uh.” I heard mumbling and breathing on the other side of the phone. Then the woman hung up before I could ask any more questions.

“I knew it! That bastard! 6 years I wasted on him!” I yelled. Then I stopped. I might’ve taken that call the wrong way. Who knows? It might have been a colleague. Or maybe a friend he was meeting. He knows how I get jealous, maybe he just didn’t want me to get upset. I decided to confront him later… but I couldn’t stop overthinking everything. I pressed the re-dial button in the phone and the woman answered. “Hi Alexa. I’m so sorry about that phone call, I didn’t realize who it was. I get nervous when people I don’t know call the house. I’m Henry’s sister Katie,” I lied. “So tell me, is Henry there yet? What are you guys up to today?” “Oh hi Katie, thanks for calling back. Henry isn’t here yet, but we’re going to take a couples pottery class. I’ve been begging him to do it with me for almost a year.” Me face dropped. A year? He was cheating on me! For almost a year! “I have to go Alexa. I have to go find my husband—I mean—brother,” I quickly managed to squeak out on the phone.” I slammed the phone down.

Later that day, when Henry came home, I was prepared to guilt trip him like never before. I was so ready to confront him. “Hi hon, I’m so glad to see you!” He exclaimed. He hugged me tightly. I didn’t hug him back. “How was your day? How are you feeling?” He asked me. “Fine,” I replied, turning away. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine, I said a little louder.” “Well, it seems like you’re mad,” He explained. I turned around and put my cookbook down on the counter. “You know, a really sweet lady called today. She had the wrong number. Her name was Alexa. She asked for you, but I told her it was the wrong Henry. You don’t know her, do you honey?” I asked sweetly. “Uh… no. I’ve never met anyone named Alexa in my life.” “Cool,” I replied. “How was golfing?” “I won!” He exclaimed. “Great,” I whispered. “Henry?” “Yes?” “We’ve been married for almost 6 years. You know, I’ve been thinking that maybe we should do more activities as a couple. Maybe a pottery class?” I smiled. I could tell he was nervous. He was practically sweating. I ignored his little gulps. “Or did you have someone else that you’d rather do it with?” I frowned and crossed my arms. “Mackenzie, I can explain!” “Oh I’d love to hear a way to wiggle yourself out of this one.” I chuckled. “Mackenzie, it was temporary, I swear! I was going to break it off with her really soon. Please believe me!” “Hmm, sounded like your one year anniversary with her is a perfect time for a break-up, too bad she won’t see it coming,” I said sarcastically. “Honey,” “Don’t call me that. “Please. It wasn’t that serious.” “Lying isn’t going to make this any easier,” I explained. “Whatever Alexa said, it’s not true!” “So you are having an affair, yet I’m supposed to trust you over the person you’ve been two-timing? Sounds reliable!” I yelled at him sarcastically. “Mackenzie! This would ruin my reputation! Don’t do this to me!” He begged. “Not even an apology. No “I love you’s”. No “I want to work through this”. All you care about is yourself, Henry. You wanted excitement too much to be in a committed relationship. You have to give up the fun of dating, to gain the commitment and love you have during marriage! I have given things up for you! But you just couldn’t help yourself? Could you?!” I yelled angrily. He rolled his eyes in disbelief. “Get out!” I screamed. “Have a good life! You’ll get your divorce papers in the mail at your Mom’s!”