She doesn’t hear me and walks straight by me. She doesn’t see me either.
I decide to watch her. Really watch her. Pay full attention to her. She vigorously washes pots and pans until they shine and scrubs the bathroom with bleach. She doesn’t go out much, stays home, reorganizing the shelves and drawers, and cries. I try to reach for her, talk to her, comfort her. She doesn’t notice me. She cries alone.
Had we had a child or two, she wouldn’t be alone now, and would that have helped? We had decided to wait to have a child. For all the parties we attended to cultivate my clients and trips we took to entertain them. We’d been married for six years, and I was busy, trying to be successful, the husband who provided. Now, I’m dead and have nothing to do but just watch my wife.
Does she miss me?
She wipes her tears and sighs.
Where did he hide the damn information about his secret accounts!?