As he walks in the door, coat draped over his arm, both hands full from the work he brought home. Waving his leg back and forth trying to shut the door behind him with his foot. He dumps the piles from his arms onto the countertop and sighs as his keys slide across the imported granite and crash against a nearly empty bottle of wine. He loosens his tie and stretches his collar as he pours the remaining vino into a whisky glass from the night before. As his lips absorb the wine he looks up from the glass to see her sitting there…. waiting. He’s been going in earlier and working later nights recently, yearning for her attention or perhaps just trying to buy her love. Somewhere, somehow, they slowly began to grow apart. This all seems so odd for her he thinks, but he goes with it, it’s what he always wanted all along. Wrapped in the finest stitched leather chair money can buy he sees his wife, the lights are dim, but its only her silhouette. Blocked by the chair the view of her is from behind. Her head is relaxed and her hair teased, her elbow rests on the arm of the chair gripping the stem to their finest crystal. She waits patiently, slowly rotating the crimson colored wine. He watches as the wine rises to the top of the glass, sticks for a second then slowly collects itself at the bottom. He can tell she is finally wearing the lingerie he bought her two anniversaries ago and the tip of her heel is peeking out just past the love seat. Confused, he tip toes closer, this isn’t like her he thinks. Nearing closer he starts to untuck his tailored shirt from his slacks as he curves his hands to meet her tense shoulders his chest touching the back of here head. As soon as his skin meets hers he hears it, the unmistakable sound of a cylinder rotating then locking along with a click…click…click. She can feel his his heart race through her body. Her lipstick stained lips mutter the words any man treads to hear. We need to talk.
Without saying another word, he knew that she now knows.