Tallies

didn’t ask for another one. I was happy. It made me lose friends, my children, everything I loved. I had my single, black tally. Susan had hers. Evidence that we were made for each other, destined to be together. We told our kids how when we first met, we despised each other. However, we soon grew to love each other, the first red tally appearing on my wrist. When it turned black, it was the happiest day of my life.

I remember the day the tally appeared. It was Karen’s first day of school, and Jason was arguing with her about what her class would be like. I smiled, they way they were bickering just tugging on my heart. I love my kids more than I love myself. I’d die for them, and I just miss them so much.

When I dropped them off, I just happened to glance out my window. Little Karen’s teacher was standing outside, and our eyes met. I remember thinking she looked so radiant, glowing like an angel. I remember exactly what she was doing, wearing, feeling. She looked like pure innocence, in a long white skirt and a tanktop so yellow it was like she wore the sun. Her hair, fiery and red, shone so brightly. She was perfect.

I don’t know how long I watched her, smiling and laughing, but eventually I pulled away. I felt… Light. I hadn’t felt this way for so long. It was amazing. I was carefree, nothing mattered. So as I was driving, and I saw the two black tallies on my wrist, it didn’t register. It was so normal. Only when I pulled up to a stoplight, did it hit me.

Two?! I didn’t have two black tallies. Just one, solid, solitary tally. I thought it was a trick until I looked again. Two. There were two. I’d been married 9 years, and now there were two. And all it had taken to unravel it was a kindergarten teacher. I had to pull off to a parking lot, I was almost shaking with rage.

I took the day off work. I called in sick, and then I texted my wife, told her I needed her home. I had to tell her something. I felt sick. I had to tell her, I knew. My wife was the kind of woman who’d want to know. She’d understand how I was feeling, and she’d tell me what to do. One of the main reasons I married her, I fell in love with her, is because she always knew what to do. My wife, my Susan, was the one to turn to in a crisis.

It didn’t go as well as I had thought. She cried, and screamed at me. Our dog cowered in the bathroom. I tried to console her, but she wouldn’t let me touch her. I tried to tell her I needed her help, but she was so angry. And sad. Then she locked herself in our room, and refused to open it. I pleaded with her, but she wouldn’t respond to me.

I was sitting in the living room, curled into a chair and stroking our dog’s back, when she opened the door. She had a duffel bag, which she threw to me without a word.

A pair of my socks were sticking out. I got the message. I left Ziffy, our dog, because the kids loved him, even though he was my dog. I got in my car, and rented a room at some hotel. I didn’t catch the name. Then I called Ms. Summers, Karen’s teacher. I left her a vague message, told her I needed to speak to her.

Now, it’s been almost half a year and I don’t know what to do. I live with Elizabeth now, and we’re both happy, but I miss my kids. I miss Ziffy. I miss Susan. She filed for divorce the day after I told her, and she’s taken custody of them. I only get to see them on weekends now. Liz is still Karen’s teacher, though Susan refuses to come to any school functions now. Karen and Jason don’t really understand why Susan and I don’t live together, but Jason has become increasingly distant from me. I can’t help think that Susan has something to do with it.

I pay child support now. I’ve been having to work overtime just to stay on my feet. My buds at the office have been helping me out, passing me the good paying jobs, that sort of thing. I really appreciate it from them. They’re great. I figure once I get back on my feet, I’ll take them all out for a well-deserved drink. It’s the very least I can do. A muffin basket just wouldn’t do the job.

Despite what I’ve lost, I feel okay. Liz is great, perfect. She’s very understanding of what I’m going through. Karen loves me as much as ever, and Jason, well, I’ll keep trying with him. I’m sure that Susan will understand that what she’s doing is foolish, mean. And well, if we have to share the holidays, that’s okay.

I could always kill her.