A Kiss Goodbye

She married the man she hated most. Of course, it was never by her own will. Her father insisted that it was in everyone's best interest. Marrying Herman Williams would be the best choice she would ever make. Becoming the wife of a CEO would be wonderful and happy no matter what. Finally, she caved, and after fifteen years of marriage she still hated him all the same. The extravagant parties and expensive clothing meant nothing to her. The money was worthless if it meant she had to lie in the same bed as that man for the rest of her life.

Her father was happy, of course. He had never had access to such riches and loved every bit of the lifestyle. Mr. Williams had agreed to let the old man live with them as long as he stayed out of the way. He kept to his own part of the house, equipped with his own maid. Still, it wasn't enough. The money was all he wanted, but he couldn't get it himself. Mr. Williams would have to be dead, but he was in perfect health. That is, until three weeks ago. Mr. Williams seemed to be falling ill, and it certainly wasn't an accident. Mrs. Williams and her father had been conspiring against him for quite some time.

One thing she had always been sure of was that Herman was a monster. Not only did he beat her on occasion and verbally abuse her, he was a known cheater. She caught him on many nights sneaking around with other women. Usually, they were thin blondes, probably half his age. Sometimes, she would run into the women in the dining hall the next morning. Herman wouldn't even try explaining himself. In his mind, his wife was his property. She would do as he pleased and never question a thing. He pushed her around and let her serve him night and day. As he showed his mistress to the car, he kissed his wife at the door.

"Goodbye, darling," he said to her, smiling. "I'm dropping Ms. Dixon off at the airport. We can go out for lunch later."

"Of course, sweetie. Let's meet at noon," she replied, smiling sweetly. If he had known better, he would have realized that the hate in her eyes was plain to see.

He gave her a quick kiss and backed away. He had a funny little habit of licking his lips after every kiss. It was something his wife hated, yet needed in order to get her way. Mr. Williams climbed into the sports car and left the driveway. She ducked back inside and shut the door behind her. The housekeeper was still in the dining room, tidying up from breakfast. Besides her, the house was empty. Quickly, she grabbed a box of tissues from the next room and wiped off her lipstick. The red color smeared on the tissue like blood. She smiled after crumpling it up and tossing it into the garbage.

Poison was the greatest idea she ever had. Her father would be elated when he heard that Herman Williams, the man worth four million dollars, had died of unknown causes. His daughter, the loving wife of Herman, would inherit everything and his family would be as rich as ever. Their plan had worked. It was so simple, yet so genius. Just a bit of arsenic was all she needed. The plan had been going on for weeks now. She mixed a tablespoon of arsenic into her lipstick, which she applied every morning. She kissed him goodbye and promised to meet him for lunch, then removed the toxin from her lips before it could do her any harm.

Herman had already seen the effects of the poison at work. The vomiting started just after the first dose three weeks ago and had progressively gotten worse over the following days. Bald spots appeared in his hair. He mistakenly blamed it on nothing but age. Somehow, he managed to hide it from the rest of the world. His wife watched him from behind closed doors, knowing that he was slowly dying. Any day now, she would be free of him, and she could hardly wait.

She smiled as she imagined the days following his death. An autopsy would be performed, since he appeared to be perfectly healthy. The arsenic wouldn't show in the regular tests, and they wouldn't even look for it without reason. All she needed to do was pull off the role as a grieving woman who just lost the love of her life. She would wear all black to the funeral and cry as his eulogy was read. Her father would take her home and there they would dine on silver plates without Mr. Williams's eyes boring holes into their souls. The thought of the freedom overjoyed her to the point at which she was pacing back and forth, practicing her responses when people began paying their respects and leaving flowers and cards on the porch.