The Unwanted
By: Tammi Brownlee
Tags: Creativity, Short Story, Life, Fiction, Writing

Margot stood at the sink, wiping the dirty dish for the millionth time. She stared blankly outside as her children ran around chasing a ball. It had started out a normal Saturday. Pancakes and bacon. The children giggled at her attempt to make smiley faces with the syrup. By the time the pancakes had soaked up the syrup it had become a mushy, sticky mess. No longer resembling a face.

She struggled to smile as she watched her children eat their pancakes feverishly. She started to wonder if they had ever eaten at all before today. When they were done they ran upstairs to get dressed and brush their teeth. Excited that they would finally be able to play with the ball their father brought home from his business trip that week.

But it hadn’t been a business trip at all. Her husband of ten years had finally come clean about the affair she had known about all along. The late nights, the lack of intimacy that she so desired was non-existent. She felt depraved of love, happiness and companionship. Her inner world, her sanctuary was shredded into tiny shards within her body.

How could he had done this to her, to their family, to their children. Didn’t he care. Doesn’t he love us. Questions and thoughts all unanswered as he walked out the door that night leaving her alone. Sure she had asked him to leave, but he hadn’t hesitated. His leaving had dug a large crevice in which she struggled to find her way out of. As though she hadn’t already felt the despair when she discovered him having sex with his secretary in his office. So cliche, she thought.

Visions of them curled up with each other, moaning and softly talking evaded her mind. Her first reaction was to cry, why was it always to cry. Why couldn’t she feel anything other than complete shame in the idea that her husband was a cheater. Infidelity was no longer a taboo word, but in her mind and her heart it was like a knife slicing through the inner layers of her skin. Not deep enough to kill her, but deep enough to hurt.

They hadn’t seen her at first, she hid behind the partially closed door to her husband’s office. They hadn’t even had the decency to close it all the way, never mind locking it. A man approached her as she continued to watch them on the desk.

“Oh hi Margot, um…can I help you find something?” he asked her. She remembered him from the Christmas party last year. His name was Malcolm.

A thud came from the office and suddenly the door was slammed shut and they both heard the tell tale sound of the lock finally being put in place. “No Malcolm, I think I am all set right now. Thank you.”

As she reached the elevator she heard her name being called. Her husband was swiftly walking toward her. She darted to the stairwell and ran as fast as she could, disappearing three floors down. There was no way she could see him now. It would never be the same. Her life would never be the same.

Her husband came home a short time later, but Margot had locked herself in the bathroom. He yelled through the door but she refused to budge. “Just leave, I don’t want to see you.” she yelled through the closed door.

“Margot, I am sorry. Things haven’t been so great between us and I needed some attention.” was his excuse. Words that hurt almost as bad as what she witnessed.

“Leave Daniel. Just leave.” she muttered, tears streaming down her cheeks.

There was no response. Just some feet moving around, drawers opening and closing and then she heard the door shut. But she stayed in the bathroom for what seemed like an eternity to her.

Finally emerging from the bathroom she was greeted by their two children. “Where daddy go?” the youngest, a three year old red haired boy with beautiful freckles asked.

“Business trip honey. He’ll be back in a few days.” Was all she said. They were too young to understand what their daddy had done.