Everyday Afterlife

Rupture

"So, what did you do while you were away Dean?" I ask pointedly, distracting myself from the horror on the television.

"Huh?" Dean mumbles. "What are you talking about?"

"Who were you with?" I snap back.

"I..." Dean chokes on his own saliva, searching for an excuse and comes up blank.

"Don't lie to me Dean! I've had it with your bullshit," I glare through bloodshot eyes. "And washing your clothes and drying your dishes! To hell with all of it!"

Dean shrugs sheepishly.

"Say something goddammit!"

Dean's face is flushed red.

"You reek of her perfume! Who is she?"

Dean's strong arms take hold of my wrists. "It's nothing I swear!"

"Liar! How can you do this to me and Grace?"

"Come on, what do you want from me Fee? The world's already going to hell, do you really have to make things worse with the Spanish Inquisition?" His hands bite at the bone of my arms.

"Let go of me!" I seethe. "Let me go!"

I feel the rage of the banshee from earlier. Her icy fury swells within and I prepare to unleash upon my husband. But before I can, Grace toddles out of her room, oblivious to our feud. Dean releases my arms, picks up Grace, and storms swiftly into our bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. I hear coat hangers clatter and drawers open roughly. Dean mutters to himself about "the crazy bitch" and something that sounds like "dead friends". A suitcase zips up, and then I hear a long silence... broken by a booming roar and the punching of drywall.

"Hey! Let Grace out of there!" I try to force the door open, but it's locked. "You can smash up the house if you have to but give me Grace!"

The door opens just wide enough for Grace to fit through and she runs into my arms. "Mummy!" she sobs through terrified tears.

Dean makes three trips to his ute and back, his arms loaded with bags each time he goes out. I simply sit and hold Grace to my chest. "It's okay sweetie. It's okay." Dean flicks his wedding-band at me from his middle-finger on his way out the front door.

"That's the last paycheck you'll get from me Fee," he quips with a smirk.

"Give my love to Pop and all the rest. They're your only friends now." The stained pine door slams. The driver's side door of his ute slams. The tyres spin gravel round and round until they start digging at the dirt deep underneath. With this last show of bravado, Dean exits my life and I sit in the cool evening air under the veranda.

No ghosts. No Dean. It's just me and Grace now. And I can breathe again.