I look at the clock. 11:47PM. Hindsight. It comes too late to do anything more than cause hurt. Unless you hit your target.

He texted me at 5PM saying he would have to stay late at work again after ignoring my message for hours asking if we were still on for dinner at Romano’s. It started months ago but just every few weeks. It wasn’t suspicious at first. Not until I saw the Instagram account. The one I wasn’t supposed to find. That was four months ago. Now, this has become a weekly endeavor for him. He doesn’t know that I know anything, or that I have evidence. And that’s not the only thing he doesn’t know.

I now sit, pictures, screenshots, and bank statements all lying around me. Seven years of memories and love drowning in Patron. But the real treat is my new toy. Yes, you see, I’ve made some loaded purchases myself. So, as the clock turns to 11:57PM, I patiently wait these last few minutes before he tries to quickly sneak into the house and up to the shower; the cylinder spinning and the hammer weighing heavy on my mind.