Short stories

Black widow

Betty hated him so much. It was more physical than emotional. He was a damn bastard. She should know about it before she accepted to marry him. It was like a contract with little characters that no one ever read. Despite the fact she said yes to his proposal, he wasn’t his “master” as he enjoyed naming himself. He was an asshole and she hated his guts with all her heart. She had to face the facts: it just happened to endure more. She took a deep breath before looking at him. He quietly emptied the beer he had just opened. What a big pig! He disgusts me for far too long! Having reached the limit of tolerance, it was time for her to act. She stood up slowly and walked to the counter where the dirty dishes of the meal lay. She took a frying pan before turning to the man who shared her bed and her life for some time.

“Harold?” she said softly.

He turned toward her with a stupid look, releasing a loud burp. She dealt him a violent blow on the face with the pan, hitting the floor hard as he fell backwards. An evil smile on her lips, she approached him to see the result. His face was a bloody mass. He groaned in pain and confusion. Since he was still conscious, he could listen. And she thought she had finally his attention. She leaned toward him.

“Harold? Are you listening?”

He stopped moaning.

“Things will change here from now on. Did you understand me? If you really love me, you’ll agree."

He was unable to answer. She must have broken his jaw or something. She shrugged before motioning to help him getting up. He seemed very hesitant, but eventually agreed. She grabbed a towel to wipe the dishes and applied it gently on his face. She had to stop the bleeding. Then she picked up her bag and keys before driving him to the hospital as an exemplary wife.

“You’ll take a shower every day,” she continued, eyes on the road. “And if your body odor still bothers me, I’ll use the scrub brush. I’m very serious about this.”

She spoke quickly to be sure not to forget anything. There were so many things she hated about this man! She had never thought of being able to hit him. She hat to go through with her idea. Impossible to go back. She made a brief summary in her head. So… I talked about the food, cleaning and washing. Did I forget something…? Yes! Of course! Eyes still on the road, she told him that since she wasn’t working, she was the queen in their home and should handle everything that was connected in some way to the house. So he should give her his paycheck every week.

“The money will be deposited in another bank account which you will not have any access. This is to pay bills, the mortgage… You see?”

She heard him moan. They approached the hospital. She had to find a reason for the state in which he found himself. She quickened her breath, as if she was in panic. She began to mutter that it was impossible. The change in attitude was very impressive. She always had dreamed of being an actress. Tears began to slide down her cheeks, leaving long trails of black mascara. When they reached the emergency room, Betty seemed to panic. Harold was quickly led into the examination room.

“What happened?” the male nurse asked. “He’s badly messed up.”

Betty began to sob.

“It was a mistake!”

“A mistake?”

“You know…” Betty began wiping her cheeks. “There’s an epidemic of robberies in the neighborhood and I… I thought he was…”

She hid her face in her hands. The nurse patted her shoulder, replying to her that this error could happen to anyone. She thanked him for his understanding. She dried her tears. The nurse had to get away from them for a moment to find the necessary cleaning. When the fabric curtains slid off, Betty turned to Harold.