why don’t you ask him

red door

She was walking fast down a paved road, in the middle of a tree infested neighborhood. Her stride was determined. She was not going to take it anymore. Not at all. She was going to get to the bottom of their problem.

She left their cozy home, left her half-full cup of coffee tilting on the armrest of their old faded couch, and slammed out the front door, looking for an answer.

She knew he was with her best friend and she was going to confront them. Now! She knew what they were doing. Listened to him tell his lies as she sat idle in their otherwise normal life.

Fleetwood Mac was blaring in her ears. ‘Why don’t you ask him if he’s gonna stay’ the words screamed as she stomped her feet hard as she walked along the quiet road. She used every last bit of strength to work herself into a frenzy. The more angry she felt the less worrisome she would be about her behavior.

They’d been married for years. And years. They’ve had their ups. And their downs. But nothing like this before. Never.

She pounded her fist on the peeling barn-red front door. Cautiously, ever so slightly, it opened. She used her foot to kick the door in, revealing her husband in the background. ‘Just tell me that you want me!’ she heard herself scream.

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