Who: Marco Medina What: Going to see the ex-wife. Going against restraining orders. When: Saturday morning Where: Madrona Rating: PG-13 Status: Complete
He could've named every kind of green around her picturesque little house and still it wouldn't have covered the way it felt to see it. To smell it. Picture perfect and sanitized, like a postcard. Rows of flowers and perfectly trimmed undergrowth. Bicycles and SUVs, sushi for lunch and jogging, early in the morning, with a Golden Retriever on an extensible leash. Ipod tucked into a breast pocket. In and out. In and out.
He wondered that she still liked pink. The powdery kind. The old-fashioned, lady-like kind. Was it her commitment to family values that made her cling to it like some vestige of her femininity? It had earned her the whole nine yards, the house, the dog and the husband, so he figured it did the trick.
Boots crushed twigs on dry pavement.
It was all supposed to have been his - except for the husband. She had taken that from him with her deceit and her contempt for his wishes. His desires. How to break a man in seven days.
No. It had been longer than that.
The days blended together, stuck to each other like honey, sweet and healthy. Wholesome.
He wondered if he could take a bite of her marshmallow house and it'd still standing. Looked sturdy enough. Looked suburban enough. He made his way up the driveway, heart in hand - just like it was before. She had a nice porch, flowers hanging in pots, a doormat with a 'Welcome' stamped in capitals that looked like it had been made out of human hair. Maybe her husband's.
He didn't bother knocking. He knew she wouldn't be in yet. Another lap around the block. She always did ten. Having watched her for the past week, he felt he knew that much. Like he knew her. Intimately. Nooks, crannies, mistakes and deep recesses where she hid her evil.
A flash of pink behind the hedge.
Marco drew his hands to his chest, like trying to bottle his fear. Didn't his shrink say he had to face what made him anxious? Exorcise the demon to defeat it.
He gathered his courage and--
The kitchen knife felt heavier than the last time.