The Secret Life of Blythe

14. Leo

I watch from the window as leaves.  Her surfboard has a shiny new case and she's somehow attached roof racks to her car.  Did she do that herself?  I ponder.  Why didn't she ask me to fit them for her? I love making her happy, I would have done it the minute she asked.  I feel like apart from the obvious, somethings changed.  She's cleaning the house like it's contaminated, the place looks like it's not lived in anymore.  I daren't touch anything with the way she's carrying on.  It's not lost on me how little personal items are around, it's almost like an air b and b these days.  An even bigger alarm bell for me is the private banking card she was twirling around last night.  I hate snooping on her but I feel like she's slipping in to some kind of alternate universe to me.  Is this what I've set off in motion, by letting myself get close to Gia? Have I put my wife's mental health I just the same shit state as mine? The surfing would suggest I have. I run to the toilet at heave in to the pan, throwing up what was left of last nights dinner. I end up laying out on the floor until I can stand on my own two feet again.

Once I've put my head on straight, I carry a cup of coffee to our office and turn on the computer.  Prior to this last week, we both used this place as much as the other but somethings changed.  This no longer feels like my space, I note sadly. 

The windows icon offers me two accounts, mine and hers.  I deliberate for far longer than I should as I break a cardinal sin and I choose to log in to hers.  Her password's still the same as it's been for the last couple of months, I'm thankful.  Her desktop looks normal.  No files.  I open the browser and look at her history.  No history.  Then I fire up her emails.  There's nothing out of the ordinary.  Sent box is empty.  I click on deleted and thats when I see that there's several from the last few days.  Like, twenty odd emails that she's sent.  I open up the latest one.  What the fuck? She's doing a computer engineering course?  Since when has she been interested in that? I notice several emails to a professor at the college.  My heart bottoms out at what I might find.  I open the whole conversation to see that she's having an in depth discussions about structural engineering with him.  Like deep, intellectual conversations, about the integrity of an existing structure and how one might survey such a thing.  I'm baffled.  The next email shows her conversing with an Art connoisseurship about her love of Art.  I see that she has employed this person to do some research on her behalf and draft her several collection catalogues.  Is she fucking nuts?  The next email is between her and the head of the electrical and electronic engineering department at the university.  The conversation reads like it's coded.  She's providing him with an NDA and her Lawyer will be in touch to discuss the obvious.  He's replied by saying it's his honour to help? A fucking NDA!? What the hell does she know about an NDA? And who the fuck is her Lawyer?  Is she talking about me?  She's never discussed anything with me that might warrant her needing an NDA. 

I keep clicking through when I see an email from one of the most prestigious law firms in California.  She's on first name terms with one of my idols.  Jeremy Smith, and he's so far up her arse it's laughable.  He's tripping over himself to help her.  Some of the related emails have been deleted for good, but I do see something about an NDA.  He's her Lawyer? I feel so belittled for a moment, why couldn't she ask me to be her legal person on those matters? The love of my life and mother of my son, thinks so very little of me to even have a conversation about her new hobbies and interests.   It's sad that I've caused this, real sad. Before I click off the law firm emails, I notice them talking about a transfer of deed in to her name to add to her portfolio.  Portfolio? Do I even know this woman? I look at the dates and see that all of these emails are only a few days old.  I can see all the original introductions.  It's like overnight she's morphed in to a different person.  Probably around the same time that I did, except as usual Blythe's interests are respectable and mine are anything but. There's another email from Citibank, kissing her arse but nothing else of real interest other than a discussion about cyber security and one other where she's enquiring about a new top of the range security system and that she wants to learn more about laser trip wires.  The fuck? I click out and google the private banking requirements and my eyes bulge when I see you have to have a net worth of least twenty five million.  I knew her father left her with close to two million pounds within all his savings and insurance policies but why the hell would she hide that from me.  I've never asked for a penny from her.  In fact I've always tried to be the provider.  I suddenly find myself feeling very lacking.  Art, engineering.  I would love to share her passion if thats what floats her boat these days.  I remember when I walked in to the garage that day and she was balancing a huge magnet over the floor.  She was conducting an experiment I realise now.  So why the heck did she play the dumb card and tell me that bollocks about concrete cancer? I just presumed she had baby brain or something with the way she giggled about it.  I shake my head and decide I've seen enough for now so I click out and shut the computer down.  I see that I've been in here for half an hour and need to get going.  I leave the kitchen as I found it and dress in my favourite suit before setting the alarm and leaving through the garage.  Great, another full day in the courts for me whilst my wife is at home doing god knows what.  I'm almost frightened to leave.  It's no wonder she looked so happy when I said I had work.  She's busier than I am, much, much busier.