I stopped talking to him for nearly two years. I cut all kind of social interaction with him: live meetings, phone calls… everything. The only time I would see him would be during court, and on that battlefield I was dominating. I’ve won every single battle, gained full custody of my two sons and earned half of his properties.
It all goes back to that Sunday morning, when he woke up in bed next to me, tired of going back to his mediocre job the next day. He got hit by this common Sunday feeling of anxiousness mixed with a nostalgia of turning back young again, to that time where ambition was only limited by one’s own creativity. Excitement boosted him out of bed, striking me in shock, out of my sleep. With his eyes wide open as if he were having a “Eureka moment”, he eagerly described his plan with some hand gestures. He wanted to quit his engineering career and run for the parliamentary elections. Apparently it was his lifetime goal to serve his country. Not taking him seriously at first, I ended up organizing his campaign, knocking on people’s doors, hosting events and attending political receptions to promote him as a serious candidate. The awaited day had finally come… and he had succeeded!
That night we went out to celebrate on a rooftop club downtown. I had forgotten how fun it was to party. Ever since I got pregnant, we got busy acting like parents, we forgot that we were a young couple after all. The glass of Mai Tai acted up fast in my veins straight to my brain, and suddenly I was hugged by euphoria. Looking down at the view of the illuminated skyscrapers gave me strength, and the victory stimulated a sense of pride in my chest. I turned around to search for my husband in the middle of the crowd and it took me some time to finally distinguish his blonde hair, gelled to the back. He was talking to a young female, whose head did not even reach his shoulder. Both of them were wearing formal attires, but what was happening between them definitely wasn’t. I kept watching them closely because I knew he had something for petite women. She reached her left pocket and removed what it seemed to be an envelope or a piece of paper – I couldn’t tell since some guy blocked the view at that moment – and passed it to my husband. They hugged and went in separate ways.
During the next few months, my husband got a lot of TV coverage. He was discussing political and social issues and his views attracted new supporters. He endorsed environmental and economical projects which as he explained in one of his interviews, would not only boost the economy but also appeal investments from all over the world. However, what boosted were the zeros on his paychecks rather than the economy of the country. He showered me with unexpected gifts and the people with anesthetic lies. He disgusted me. Even more than the smell of feminine perfume and alcohol stained on his shirt. That’s when I decided to file for divorce because I could not live with this hypocrite anymore. I also went down on the streets with a group of protestors to fight corruption. I was the woman behind his success and I wanted to make sure that I would be the one to sink him down.
That’s the full story Mr. Officer. I had nothing to do with his death. The doctor’s report showed that he passed away from natural circumstances due to his unhealthy lifestyle.
“Thank you ma’am” said the officer “you’re free to go”. I got up from my chair and as I was passing through the door, the officer started speaking again: “Excuse me ma’am. You mentioned a young woman giving a piece of paper to your husband on that rooftop. How is she related to the story?”
“Well…” I hesitated “We went back home that night, and while the alcohol had extended his REM sleep, I looked in his pocket and found the piece of paper. The woman had signed her name Lila at the end of the message that said:
“So this was nothing more than a business meeting” supposed the officer.
“Yes. Some unfinished business.” I replied, and then left the building.
I woke up the next morning, not being able to concentrate as usual before taking my coffee so I made myself a cup. I sat on the kitchen table and opened my mac to check my emails. Among the spam emails and advertisements that snuck out from the junk folder, I opened one specific message that looked intriguing:
Ms. Deputy sounded so beautiful. I’ve been working for so long to hear this word. I tilt my head to the back, took a gulp of coffee and savored the taste of victory.