Chapter 6 She Has To Go

STORM My wife was a strange creature. I didn’t know if to be angry or amused. I knew women who could shop but never fifteen thousand dollars in six hours. My eyes were still wide. Of course it was nothing to me but still, a tough pill to swallow. She had no care, moving her head and shoulders as she drew on her iPad and typed on her laptop. In a way she looked in a zone, absorbed. What was she doing? I tried to recall the little I knew about her only to recall a name. Her hair was better, her face not bad. A frown was inched deep in my face, being disturbed by a text buzzing my phone. I snapped back to work. I had to bare five more hours before getting to the house to sleep. I was at my sleep deprived breaking point, barely concentrating. Once again I found my eyes on the creature I was tied to. Her hand was greedy, crumbs on the corner of her lips as she chewed only for her to take another large bite at her pie. She loved food, just devouring it all to take a cookie next. My distaste grew with my scowl, looking away. Her music could be heard from where I was, sure she would go deaf at some point. I was not sure I would mind. A sigh left me, feeling petty and childish. The past days just hadn’t been the best and I couldn’t concentrate. Five hours had never passed so slow and by the time the jet landed my patience and anger was at the roof, about to rip at the seams. We took cars to the house, my leg shaking, counting down the minutes. The fact that I had to share my apartment just sent me even further in the pits. I had designed the flat to have one bedroom for that very reason, no guests allowed. The realization had my mood sour even more. There was only one bedroom. I had to share a bed with her, again! “Sir.” I nodded my head as I stepped out in the underground parking lot. The other guards were already offloading the bags. I marched on to my private elevator but once again I was reminded of this creature still with those large green headphones, iPad pasted on her face, drawing with her pen. I wanted to look, to see but I was a grown man, a very successful man who shouldn’t have been curious about what his wife was doing, probably doodling. Yet somehow, I found my neck stretching with no luck. It was as if she could see me, pulling her iPad even closer to her face. I narrowed my eyes, the elevator doors opening. We walked to the apartment, home sweet home but not anymore as someone wondered past me, still absorbed in her world only to knock the corner of the couch and nearly crumble down. “Ooof.” I don’t know why seeing that brought a smile on my face, turning around as she stumbled, shame leaving her red. Some of that anger chirped away. I put my bags down, the guards in to leave her bags and finally I understood. So many paper bags. I did not even want to think about it, going to take a shower, slipping into bed afterwards. She was no where to be seen and I was grateful. Was I a child for moving to the middle of the bed, spreading like a star fish to occupy all of it? I sighed into the pillow, throwing the second one on the couch by the window to drive my point through. Finally I could sleep. I had a very important meeting in the morning and I had to be sharp. My eyes closed, silence yet I found myself wondering. Where was she? What was she doing? It lingered in my head more than I would have liked, tossing now and again. A knock nearly had me screaming in anger, lying down unmoving. The door opened, feet patting with the music heard from her headphones. “Hi, I got pizza, you want a slice?” When did she get a pizza and how? I hope she hadn’t asked it delivered because I would murder her myself. But somehow I stayed unmoving only to feel stupid. Did she know I was awake and fake sleeping? “Okay, I will save it for you. Night.” Her voice. The door closed, still holding my breath to let it out a few seconds after. The hours passed, still, eyes forcefully glued together yet no sleep. ‘Just get up and look so you can sleep.’ I sighed, pushing the covers over to slip out. My feet moved, the irritation deep. I walked out of the door, the light from the television the only source of light but it was not a movie playing. A house plan was displayed. I walked to the kitchen, pulling a glass which caused some clutter. By the time I turned back around the television was blank, making the room dark. Light only poured from the tiny iPad and laptop. I frowned, not liking this. I wanted to ask her what she was doing, and demand an answer. It was my house! I had a right to know. Irritation grew, drinking the water to place the glass down. Her head moved, pretending as if she hadn’t seen me. What was she hiding? I hated secrets, hated liars? I walked back to the room, closing the door to fall back in bed. Ten minutes later I realized my curiously had only gotten worse. I sat up, pulling up my phone and made a call. The call went through. “Sir?” “I want you to find out everything about my wife, the file should be on my desk when I get in the office.” “Yes sir.” I dropped the call, the time blinking three in the morning. My head, my eyes, and body aching. I groaned out in frustration. One thing was clear. She had to go. My wife had to go.