Cold Silk

It had been three days sine Alec had been fired. Three days since him and his wife Lindsey had spoken. The fight that brought about this fast for words had started as any other daily fight. However when Alec carelessly blurted out that he had been laid off, Lindsey changed. Something in her face screamed in his that not only did she hate their marriage and what they had become, but that he was now nothing to her. A worthless waist of her space and time that she would try to further avoid. She spoke just a few last words to him saying that she would work over time until he figured something out, and then went into her office, and her new bedroom, pulled the already made bed out of the couch, and slammed the door without a second glance or a second thought. He wondered how she would possibly pick up more shifts since she always seemed to be working. But he wouldn’t ask, he couldn’t speak. At a loss for any and all words.
The first two days he went through the phone book, looking for a place to call, a place to rely on with the important task of making him worth something again. But Alec was easily discouraged with the image of his wife’s hatred for him in his mind at all times. He found nothing and would eventually end up belly up on his bed, in his room. This room was truly his room because only he slept there. The only time Lindsey came in was in the mornings to get dressed for work. She must have entered that morning with such stealth that not even a single floor board creaked. She had left the door to the closet open, probably as not to wake him, and he could see that it was a mess. One that had gone undetected in the battle field of house. He rose and entered the walk in closet Lindsey was so excited about when they purchased the house three years ago. He looked at all his business suits he had no need for now, pajamas were all he needed to fail stylishly.
He realized then that just his section was messy. Lindsey’s side was of course organized by what seemed to be color and when she would need them. To the right were her stiff work clothes and to the left it slowly merged into huge oversized sweat suits. The only thing she ever wore in his presence. She found no need to be sexy for him; in fact she wished he didn’t look at her body at all. The pristine nature of Lindsey’s half of the closet was so like her. Things were either perfect, or destroyed with her. This was much like how she viewed their marriage. Alec would have said they were fine, she, however, saw nothing but debris of a blown to bits love life. They hadn’t been intimate in over two years. Alec wasn’t sure what caused them to go south, but what he did know was how much he hated the cold chill of the sheet when he would roll onto her side of the empty bed. He wished he could level with Lindsey, be a success like her, and then maybe she would want him like he wanted her. He had never felt like he was as good as her, no matter what. He slid into her closet space, a place he hadn’t dared go in quiet a while. He could smell her skin. The smell was intoxicating; as if it was a forbidden fruit he smelled for the first and only time, he breathed so deep as to savor that smell forever. He thumbed through her clothing, eyes shut, imagining her slipping off each piece, sexily for him. His hand fell upon a section of silky garments, tucked toward the back, which delighted his senses. As he pried open his eyes he did so to the clothing surrounding the smooth flowing material. What he found made him stop dead, his body stunned. A wide selection of lingerie stared back at him. None had the tags. None he had ever seen. Some faded in color, others missing beads from their intricate design. All had been worn, and none had been worn with him.
Alec felt the silk turn to stone in his rough hands. How dare Lindsay be with other men while he stayed, tried to make it work, tried to be like her. He felt his face hot with rage. All the late nights, it made sense, she wasn’t mad that she would have to work more but that she would have to cheat less. Lindsey had taken his already feeble world and pummeled it until he felt numb. She had pushed him to a breaking point. All he wanted to do was return the favor, obliterate her perfect little world. He grabbed every item, yanking it from its hanger. He threw some pieces, just like she had thrown away all his love. He tore other pieces, just like she had torn the two of them apart. When he was through both sides of the closet were equally messy. Alec had accomplished his goal of being like Lindsey, of leveling with her. He felt strangely satisfied. For once in their three years of marriage, Alec felt he was finally equal in some way with Lindsey; they both were nothing and hated each other. And he was happy that Lindsey would feel as small as she made him out to be. He sat in on the end of his bed and waited for Lindsey so his face could scream in hers that she was nothing to him, without him having to say a word. And so that she would then realize that she was not perfect, but rather destroyed.