The Home Wrecked

She knew that he had been with another girl simply by his smell when he walked into the door. A mix of his Old Spice cologne and a mix of something fruity and fresh, something she would not wear. Every day she would find its scent when he came in to give her a kiss after a long day of work. But she hid it well, much like he hid his own secrets. Or so he thought. It was not by scent alone that put this horrible idea into her head. She had been busy at work, busy writing for her next novel, and he was busy too. His company had been putting him on overtime almost every week. Or so he told her. Who knew, maybe he had concocted this entire thing up after a quickie session with his new love. Maybe this new one gave him the idea. If there was any sign of disgust, it wasn’t shown.

“Hunny, I’m home.” He said as he came in. He seemed less tired these days, he must have been with her today. She dreaded thinking about her. Not wanting to measure herself up to this mysterious third party, she chose to think elsewhere. Needless to say, less writing occurred and more cleaning around the house. In fact, she had organized all the books in her study, first by year written, then year published, and finally alphabetical.

When he finally came into view, she faked a smile, a smile that didn’t faze him one bit. He would put his bag down in the kitchen, as he always did, sneak up behind her and catch her off guard for a short yet romantic peck on the cheek. It was things like this that had her won over to him. He was everything that she ever dreamed of and more. At the time, he did everything right. She loved him for what he was, and what he wanted to do. But it was his smile that got him. The smile of hope and deceit at the same time. Her friends loved him, and always asked for him. Her mother told her that he was the one for her, she knew it. Everything seemed so right.

But that was years ago. Now everything changed. Now meaning the time since that love blossomed. Of course it had changed when she found out he was with another. It wasn’t so much this girl, although she did play a major part. More or less, it was about how he felt he could trick her. Like she wouldn’t notice his change in mood and such. How he started to care so much about how he looked when he went to work. How he would go far lengths to justify his story. Apparently, their definitions of love were different. They did the same things, but he wanted more. He wanted the side dish and the main meal. He, as she would think, got greedy and got caught. But this minor victory could do no justice. She knew the costs that such truth would create. He still loved her, made love to her, and cared. Drastically changed and at the same time, not at all.

She hid the feeling of defeat as she opened the wooden back door into their yard and signed before yelling. A small boy was hard at work fighting the imaginary goblins in his mind. He saw her and paused. The fantastical sword battle would have to wait another day. Dad was home.

“Come in Danny, time for dinner.”