His Wife

Chapter 3: Hope Burns Bright

Since he's had no trouble carrying lumber throughout the day to make a pretty penny, he had no trouble carrying the corpse of my ex boyfriend to the backyard where he stores the extra lumber that he doesn't sell. He was originally going to work for a company or some other really sophisticated job until he realized he could make the same amount of money, if not better money, lumbering wood, mowing lawns, and plowing driveways. Because he had Calvin's body over his shoulders, he still had a free hand to cling to me, which he did. He didn't even bother holding my hand. He only showed his dominance more by dragging me by my arm. That gesture let me know exactly where I stood with him. I was nothing more than a dog on a leash to him. Always was, always will be.

There were still a couple of chairs set out by the wood pile because we'd normally sit and drink by the fire every weekend that we could, including in the winter because there wasn't a week that the woodpile wasn't there other than when Joseph would take some time off of work or focus on his other tasks. I normally enjoyed sitting by the fire with him and sometimes he'd throw huge bonfires that everyone was invited to, only you don't sit if you don't bring your own chair. He had so many friends and people he knew that he'd have around every once in a while. I wonder how that's gonna work now that he killed Calvin and is holding me as a hostage in my own house? I wonder how he's going to keep me here when he leaves for work? Does he even realize that he flipped his entire life upside down? I have quite a few questions for him but I'm not sure if I should just ask them because I'm not even sure if he even has the answers. I wonder what's even going through Joseph's head at this very moment? I'm sure his heart is completely torn but of course, instead of showing me that side of himself, he's going to burn the body of the man I cheated on him with. Does he even feel anything towards this man or me right now? Or is his mind completely clouded by his wrath?

When we reached the pile of wood, he threw the lifeless body on top like it was nothing more than a hollow doll. All it was was the cherry on top of a sundae, and the cherry is always the first thing to go.

He cracked a joke which made my eyes widen with complete shock, "It's a good thing you weren't fucking a lard ass or I'd for sure be screwed. I could barely carry this scrawny ass on one shoulder."

Is he really complaining about carrying the man that he killed on his shoulder right now? Maybe he wouldn't have to carry him if he didn't kill him but I bet that didn't cross his mind. He had no real reason to kill him because I didn't want to leave him for Calvin, I wanted to leave him because he messed shit up with me all on his own. But of course, he'd rather kill the man I was seeing than admit that. It may even be possible that he hasn't admitted that to himself.

I eyed the gasoline and the pack of matches when he picked them up as I stood behind him helplessly. He popped his head back to view me like an animal when it hears the snap of a twig, probably to make sure I wasn't going to sneak off or something. Though I really longed to, I was still completely paralyzed with fear. It felt like I was nothing more than a machine of his that was programmed to follow his every command.

He asked me kindly for once instead of ordering me, "Evangeline, can you sit down? I'm starting the fire now."

He probably only wants me to sit down because he's afraid I'll run off when he has his back turned to me. As much as I'd love to make a run for it I have nowhere to go, especially without my car keys.

Once again, he popped his head over his shoulders to view me, who was still standing in place. I'm not his little puppet and he needs to know that. Plus I really don't want to sit down right now. This is not exactly the place where I want to get comfortable.

He said through gritted teeth, "Evangeline, I'm asking you nicely, and we both don't want me to use force, so sit down."

With my arms folded, I asked him, "Why do I have to sit down?" I bet he'll give me some vague answer like he always does instead of just telling me the truth.