House of Cards

Chapter 3.

I close my hidden Google Doc: my savior from my mind. I couldn’t keep a real diary. Caroline would surely find it. Keeping written mementos of my life was an easy hobby for me. It had been three years since the last time I made an entry and it felt odd not to lapse back into the habit. I live within the pages of my secret document. It was a pure miracle my girlfriend hadn’t found this email because she knew all the others. Or maybe she knew this one but decided to not rip me of this one calm.

I lay back on our bed, staring at the ceiling and entering that cave again. I close my eyes for a quick second and feel a tiny droplet grace my cheek. I love crying. It makes me feel better and like I wasn’t pretending. I feel like such a clown sometimes. I think about the ones at the circus: they’re always having to put on a smile for others. I was just the same. I smile for my love.

My tears can only roll for so long because at that moment I hear her. I feel a loud pang and a burning sensation in my chest as I hear the modern door shut. I walk to the front living room of the large penthouse to greet her.

I see her cross over toward the kitchen and rest our groceries on the marble countertop. She takes off her mask and hangs it on the little hook on the wall. She wore a simple blue skinny jean and a t-shirt marked 'Chanel' was tucked into her pants. I watch as her short, blonde, bob cut whips around hastily. She cut it two years ago.

She looks at me for a second and I give a weak smile as I sit on the 'L' shaped couch. She smiles too but her gapped tooth makes no notice. When was the last time I saw her diastema? Oh, it was last night. Sex is a total blur to me now.

I sit awkwardly with my hands clasped together on my knee. I was shaking only slightly.

I watch Caroline’s lips slowly tilt downwards and I am immediately frightened.

“Bonjour,” she says quite cheerfully but I can tell her eyes were devoid of any joy.

My heart abruptly quickens its beats. I respond neatly and fast. “Bonjour.”

“Why did you respond like that?” Caroline asks dourly, anger lacing her breath. Her whole body suddenly contorts into an all too familiar stance I wish I hadn’t gotten used to. Her eyes are dead set on my face and animosity brews from within her. It stinks in the air and she is only getting started. I look down at her hands and they are starting to twitch.

I’ve learned how to be utterly sangfroid in these situations and honestly I don’t know how. I close my eyes tightly and my body shudders. I hear Caroline’s malevolent steps charging towards my being and I prepare myself.

Strange. It seems she has stopped short in front of me. My pupils meet hers and my lips part slightly. She collapses into my lap. I hold her by her waist tightly and whisper, “Where are you?”

She desperately combs through my messy black hair with her fingers, studying every strand. I see her eyes observe every speck of my face; every pore; every bruise. I see water well up in her bottom eyelids. My eyes stay trained onto hers and finally she finds me. Her love. If I was lucky, I could pull her out of the dark she too often fell into.

Caroline slowly approaches my cheek with her lips and deeply kisses the spot. My jaw clenches as I hold back a whimper. She holds the kiss for five seconds before pulling back. “It hurts?” she asks caringly but I know what comes next. Her features harden and she gets off my lap. She makes the shape of a gun with her fingers and taps her temple three times. “Well guess what?” she turns to go to our bedroom, gun still to her head, “This does too.”