Key Royal

I drove by his house on Key Royal today. It was coincidence. One of my girls needed to see me nearby. Not really. I drove by knowing I would be tempted to peak in. He, his new wife, and my children flew across state to a funeral. The house was clear, except for the nanny who stopped by to use the shower, so I waited.

She left. It was dark outside, but the house was lit by Christmas lights. Green and red tainted the granite pathway leading to the front door, which was always unlocked. I couldn't resist. I thought of my room. I rushed over the pathway - half hoping the door was locked - and in. My feet whisked me up the marble spiral staircase to the second floor. He used to chase me up those stairs, laughing. Steering my way right, I entered my old bedroom. Her underclothes littered the mahogany floor around their bed. The closet was full of evening gowns and parlor get-ups, the sort that I would wear. She wore my colors too. The makeup station looked the same. When I left him for good, I left my makeup, taking only the necessities. She now used my mascara and eye liner - my red lipstick. I looked into the mirror, startled. For a moment I saw a beautiful woman there. I felt the old confidence again. I felt special again. I flicked on the light as I reached for the pink lipstick. It fell from my hand. She was ugly.

I wandered through the house: running my hand along the rails and listening for old conversations. Old talking heads complimented my figure, my hair, and my success as a wife and mother.

"How did I manage?" they'd say.

"He loves me and I love him," I'd say.

"How beautiful! That makes everything work."

Wealth: that's how I managed. I was pampered. Trips to Australia. Expeditions through the Amazon. Daily gifts: jewels, cars, dresses, and whores dashing away late at night. He had a taste for whores. The new wife would see. She will weigh the good and bad. The good: the power to purchase dreams. The bad: an addicted husband.

The patio and pool hosted many parties in my day. The canal twisted around the back end of the pool and I went there to sit along its edge. In the end, when the parties lost their charm, I would sit there with my back turned to the excitement. Now I sat there wishing for another chance. I closed my eyes and slowly turned around. Would I see the party in play? Would I see my husband charming the guests and throwing a concerned look my way? I opened my eyes to see a lapping pool and the back end of a mansion. No people. No laughing. He wasn't there.

I showered. I undressed and used their shower and their towel to wipe myself dry. We enjoyed ourselves in that shower, with its twenty heads gushing water on us as we smiled at each other. I used her hairspray and then left.

Now I'm here, alone, in the house he purchased for me. It's far enough away for no accidental run-ins but close enough for the kids to see me without hassle. I wished I had taken the bad with the good.