Sunlight struggled to break into the bedroom, leaving a dim illumination through the curtains. I wished, as I often did, that I'd purchased the sheer pastel yellow curtains I had fallen in love with rather than relenting to Robert. In my half dazed state, I called out for Robert to receive only the metal flapping of the letterbox as a response. With the house restored to its former glory and all items that I could think of accounted for, there was little for me to do but wait. I hoped he had listened to my many messages.
Shrugging on my dressing gown, the air unusually cold for that time of year, I made my way to the bathroom. The aroma wafting from my pits was sure to frighten anyone who dared approach me. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had a proper bath since Rover passed. Instead, I'd had rushed grandad washes as my family had always called them. I could hear my dad's booming voice as the water ran. Always wash your pits, bits and tits. I chuckled softly. Dad was always the crude one of the family, with a mouth that could make a sailor blush.
Bubbles overtook the bathtub, spilling onto the floor as I lowered a leg, gritting my teeth as the heat bit into my flesh. Robert had always hated sharing a bath with me. Bathing with the devil, he'd often complained as the steam fogged his glasses. Naomi and Rover had taken after him in that department, both preferring lukewarm baths at best.
My head had just rested against the cool bathtub when my mobile vibrated on the toilet lid, falling to the floor before I could scramble to get it. Robert's name shone at me in bold letters. Wiping my hands on the towel hanging within arm's reach, I rushed to answer.
"Thank God! Robert, someone broke in last night. The house was a mess! I don't think they took anything but-"
"I want a divorce."
His voice, calm and collected, ripped through me. Tumbling out the bath, I let out a nervous laugh. He was joking. Right? Pulling a towel about me, still unwashed but no longer caring, I struggled to find the words to string together to create an appropriate response.
"I'm sorry. Say that again. It sounded like you were asking for a divorce."
My heart pounded against my rib cage, threatening to escape, to run away with a little stick and handkerchief hanging over its shoulder.
"That's because I did. I can't deal with your lies anymore. I know everything."
I sunk to my knees, back hitting the toilet, knocking the wind out of me. This couldn't be happening.
"You're talking crazy Robert. We don't need a divorce. We can fix whatever's wrong!" I begged, visions of life alone playing on a loop.
"Can you give me back the years of my life without our other daughter?"
My breath caught. He knew. The realisation that it could have been no one other than Twin B who phoned the other day hit like a train.
"That's what I thought. Save it, I don't need to hear another word from you. Anything you want to say, you can say to my lawyer. I'm done."
The phone clicked in my ear. That bitch! She couldn't have just left us alone. I hated her. Only a succubus would enter a marriage with the intention of tearing it apart. She was no daughter of mine. She was nothing. I wanted nothing more than for her to join Naomi. It was no less than she deserved.
————-
"Do you not think that the only reason your marriage failed was because you couldn't be honest with your husband? That the poor girl had nothing to do with it. You caused all of this and made everyone who came close to you a victim. Why blame someone innocent for your wrong doings?" Ben looks at me, venom in his eyes.
What does he know? He's completely wrong. None of this was my fault. Everything I did was to protect my marriage, to keep Robert close. It was working until she came crashing into our lives. I stand, the chair beneath me crashing to the floor.
"I did nothing wrong! This is entirely her fault. I should have got rid of her when I had the chance!"
Ben shares a knowing glance with Gary, though what they think they know is a mystery to me. Robert, the cowardly fool, should have known better than to think I'd simply leave without a fight. If it was a fight he wanted, I hoped he came prepared.
————-
Robert never rang me back. Never fought for our marriage the way I had done for three decades. In the face of a minor inconvenience he ran with his tail between his legs. I'd curled myself around the base of the toilet, shaking and numb, all the tears my body possessed soaking the floor beneath me. I kept checking my notifications, hoping to find something that would let me know it was all a cruel joke, or a nightmare I'd yet to wake from.
I'd never been hurt like I was then, the knife snapped in my stomach, impossible to remove. Every little movement sent the pain rippling through me. I wanted to vomit, to scream. To take my pain in my fist and force it into Twin B's heart, breaking her ribs until I could feel the pulsating flesh against my fingertips.
Have you ever hated someone? Truly hated them? It leaves you living and breathing in a constant state of red. The thought of their blood upon your hands, the sound of their dying gasp as you stand above them, plants a smile on your face.
I needed to get up, to stretch out the cramps that made home in my legs and arms. I needed a drink. With a groan, I pulled myself together enough to route through the kitchen cupboards in search of anything alcoholic to lift the edge. I winced at the burn of vodka down my throat, letting out a deep ah with my eyes closed. That would do it. I wasn't much of a drinker. In fact, the only time alcohol found its way into our home was if I needed it to cook with or if someone gifted us it when hosting a dinner night. It wasn't a large bottle of vodka, one of those mini shot bottles that I'd bought to try a recipe I'd overheard some of the young mums gossiping about a few months back. I was thankful in that moment that Robert had been appalled at the very idea of it.
It didn't take long for bottles to lay about me, my head swaying as I tried to straighten my vision. The mixture of spirits, brandy and wine left an awful aftertaste. A small hiccup shot pain through my ribs, my watery eyes landing on the knife block just out of reach. I couldn't believe he would leave me like this. Hang me up to dry and expect me to financially support myself. I'd have to leave this home, maybe even my hometown. I wasn't sure where I could go. My parents were long dead, their house sold years back. I supposed I could ask Sophie to put me up, at least for a little while. But it would never do long term, we were just too different.
Humiliation and anger bubbled. I would never forgive him. I threw my rage around, furniture flying about until the house was as upturned as it had been when I came home the night before. Even Naomi's room, previously unscathed, felt my wrath. Her teddies, once littered across her bed, were torn and sprawled about the floor. Her clothes yanked from their coat-hangers. I was sick of Robert dictating where I could go in my own home. If he really believed he was going to leave this marriage, to take half of everything we'd accumulated together, he'd have another thing coming. I smiled at the image of his face as he saw his precious daughter's belongings broken and unrecognisable as I took the kitchen scissors to her many hand-drawn pictures.
He would have nothing to keep her memory alive. I vowed to drag him to the deepest pits of hell. To make sure he suffered for what he was doing to me. I would turn him in to the police, make them believe he'd made my existence unbearable. I'd make sure they punished him until his last breath escaped his lungs. After everything I had done for him, all that I had sacrificed. The audacity of it all. He would get what he deserved. I would see to it.
Don't look at me like that. You have no right to judge me. You have no idea what it's been like for me.
Her pictures floated like snowflakes about the room, not a single piece of clothing or toy left unscathed. Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I fumbled with the buttons, trying to locate the camera icon. With my vision blurred and unhelpful in the task, it took a few attempts. Finally! Standing unsteadily on my feet, I lifted the camera sideways over my head, moving around the room so that every piece of destruction would be evident in the video. With a smile, I clicked Robert's name, selected the video and hit send.
I just had to wait. Closing her door behind me, not wanting to see anything more of her, I stumbled down the hall to the bedroom I would now spend forever alone in. The book Robert was reading, some book about elves and dwarves, Lord of the something - I would feel myself zoning out whenever he tried to talk about it - sat neatly atop his bedside table. A personalised bookmark I'd bought him one valentine's day protruded from the top. See how you and your Hobbit things like this! The pages tore easily, falling at my feet like confetti. Another quick snap of the camera, sent once more with a thrill of anticipation washing through me.
My phone vibrated in my hand. I smiled at Robert's name, taking a few seconds to open the message. In part because I wanted to leave him waiting, but also because the room had started to spin violently. I could feel the vomit gurgling in my stomach. Taking a steadying breath, I opened the message.
"You fucking psychotic bitch!"