Roast and Chiffon Cake

Coral Quilt

Jack was as late home as he usually was, but this time Alice wasn't happy to see him. She didn't wait at the door to give him a kiss and she didn't have dinner on the table waiting for him. She had a wine glass in one hand and a headache in the other.   

His footsteps were heavy and slow, like he knew she hadn't left, knew that she couldn't leave. He hadn't expected the attitude though, hadn't expected the empty bottle of wine and side eyed glares making the air thick with tension.

    "I'm gonna leave, Jack."

    He sighed, hearing the same promise to the same argument a thousand times over. "I'm sure you will, Alice."

    But then he notices the bag beside her feet.

    "I'm going to leave, Jack."

    His brown suit-jacket is hanging over his arm, tie undone and limp around his neck. "You can't, Alice. Clearly you know that since you're still here."

    She's standing up, tears in her eyes and desperation in her voice. "I tried to bring you with me, I did. But now I won't, now I'm going to leave, and I'm going to live far away from you."

    She's up and he's grabbing her, refusing to let her reach the door. "I did this for us, I did this so we could be together, and you want to ruin it?"

    She's pulling her arm away, but now he has both of them, and he's backing her up against the wall. "You didn't do this for us, you did this for you. All you want is the perfect life!"

    Her wrists ached. "So I'm going to leave, Jack."

    His arms are now blocking her in, gelled back hair falling in front of his angry eyes like it always did in the late hours. "No, you're not."'

    His shirts wrinkled, and she just can't stomach the idea of having to iron it in the morning. "What if I got you somebody new? Somebody else to live your perfect life with?"

    He was still staring, but his knuckles were a little less white against the walls. "What are you talking about, Alice?"

    "What if you had somebody else? What if you let me leave, and I got you a new housewife, a better one. All you have to do is let me leave, and I swear to god you'll get the best one there is."

    He's scoffing, but looking mildly intrigued, so she keeps talking.

    "You said that Frank was working on something, something to bring people here. Surely we could use that for you, use that to replace me." She's desperate, she knows she is, and so does Jack, so she's praying that this works.

/~/~/~/~/~/

The room was underground, or at least that's what it smelt like. There was nothing but a desk and a machine of some sorts on it, the screen a bright white as Frank typed something on the keyboard.

"You're lucky you've got such a nice husband," Frank hummed, reading something on the screen before typing something else in.

Jack had blindfolded her before she'd even seen the car, refusing to let her see where she was or how she'd gotten there. "Don't think I consider him much of a catch."

He was wiggling a little device on the table, the arrow on the screen following its movements. It was mesmerizing, seeing something new, and for a brief moment she wondered if Jack had actually been a part of something greater than himself.

"Jack's been soft since he got here, thought he'd work into the role, and maybe this is exactly what he needs."

She bit her tongue, the screen dulling to a monotone grey when he clicked on something.