Golden Bird

She wanted to slap him, but instead, got up shakily to pour herself another drink. "How kind of you to want to wait until after the holidays to tell your wife of six years you're having an affair with some cute little student nurse who worships the ground you walk on." She laughed bitterly.

"This is more than an affair, Sara. I love Dinah ... and she's carrying my child."

The shower was running in the master bath. Oh God! She should have gone to a hotel. She limped to the hall bathroom, and as she ran the cold water to splash on her face, she hoped his shower was getting uncomfortably hot. He hated too hot showers. She thought of flushing the toilet, wishing him to burn, but he finished before she had the chance. The anger built up inside of her, and she drew strength from it, .She trudged to the kitchen and filled the automatic drip coffee maker. Knowing she should get something in her stomach to neutralize the scotch and champagne from the night before, she searched the refrigerator for something to eat. She discovered some left-over macaroni and cheese. She couldn't remember when they'd had it, but since it wasn't growing a garden of mold, she assumed it was edible and popped the dish in the microwave.

The timer beeped just as Bob appeared from the bedroom. He wore a crisp white shirt, blue and gray striped tie, and gray slacks. His face was red from his shave, and his wet hair was neatly combed. He looked great, while Sara stood at the counter, a forkful of macaroni in her mouth, dressed in her old terry robe. Her hair was a mass of angry snarls and she had traces of black rings around her eyes from the mascara she hadn't bothered to remove. She knew she looked repulsive, but she didn't care.

After setting his suitcase in front of the door and carefully placing his jacket over the back of the Lazy-Boy, he joined her in the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Do you have a lawyer in mind or do you want me to recommend one?" he asked over his coffee cup.

Oh God how she hated that professional detachment. "I'll find my own lawyer, thank you," she replied indignantly.

"Look Sara, I'm really sorry about this. I never meant to hurt you. Dinah was just there-being supportive and caring."

"And I wasn't?" she shot back at him.

He looked at his shoes. "Well, no. You were always working when I wasn't, or vice versa. We've just grown apart." He looked back up at her. "Admit it Sara, we just don't want the same things anymore."