kidding. You look like shit.”
He continued walking past her desk toward the hall to his office. “Try not to flatter me, darling.”
She was always very forward with him, but he liked it and encouraged it. The two playfully picked at each other almost every day, and in many ways he believed it kept them both sane. Ben’s team, in general, fostered a good, playful relationship.
Ben sat in his office with the door locked and waited. He thought of how he would say it, how to respond if she went on another emotional tirade where she begged for forgiveness or where she fought hard to persuade him she hadn’t done anything wrong. He knew it was coming, and even though he shouldn’t have worried one bit about how she responded or felt, somehow he still did. He wanted this to be a moment for her where she realized she needed to change her life around and be a better person. He doubted that would happen, but wanted it badly, not only for her own wellbeing and future but also because he wanted her and her family to move on as soon as possible.
He sat at his desk, deep in thought, and waited for night. Then he returned home.
He walked in the front door, and Rachel was sitting on the couch. The house reeked of pot; she had clearly intended to light incense, but must have grown too tired to light it as it remained unlit on the coffee table with the lighter set right next to it.
She was not expecting him home until the next night, so she had her tablet laying out still with a video of two guys fucking a girl in a gym locker room. She didn’t know Ben saw it, as she hurriedly pushed the button to put the tablet to sleep.
“Hey baby,” she said. “I didn’t expect you home.”
“My training ended early,” Ben replied as he went to sit on the love seat next to her. “Got home yesterday evening, actually.”
She looked confused, and slightly worried. “Yesterday? Why didn’t you come home? I wish you would have.”
“Rachel, I saw Aaron come into our house last night. I know what’s going on.”
“Oh,” she paused, trying to figure out how to respond to his abruptly calling her out. “Baby, he was just dropping by something I left at the gym. Why would you think–”
“Cut the shit, Rachel. I saw you kiss him, and I’ve heard a lot worse. No telling what else went down here last night… in my house.”
“No, no, no, baby,” she said as she began to cry. “Please understand.”
“We are getting a divorce, Rachel.”
“No, no, no,” she said, “he made me do it! I would never choose to hurt you.”
“It’s finished, Rachel, I can’t take this heartache any longer.”
“He raped me! I swear he made me let him in!”
He chuckled in a disgusted manner, and got up from his seat. “Oh, please – Rachel, I saw for myself. You’ve done this before. I’m not putting up with this anymore.”
“Baby,” she pleaded, “I need you.”
“We’re finished, Rachel,” he said as he walked out of the room.
She sobbed, cried out for him, then literally screamed as loud as she could. “Ben what is the matter!? I want you but you work all the time and don’t act like you love me anymore. I feel so unloved and now you’re blaming it all on me!”
“Rachel, you are a pathological liar and you’re convinced that this must not be your fault. I’ve done everything I can to help build a stronger marriage. This divorce will be on your hands.”
She grabbed him. “Please don’t say that word! Daddy won’t let that happen.”
“Daddy doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself!” Ben shouted. “And your Daddy doesn’t have anything to do with me or my choices anymore. And you can tell him I said that when you move back in with him.”
Ben started walking to his home office, which was upstairs. It was where he planned to sleep that night. He was halfway up the stairs when she said calmly, “God wants us to be together. He shared this vision with me. I am a better person from within because of us going to church and getting involved in the marriage classes. You’ve been with me through the dark times. I’m coming out of them! Can’t you stand with me now through the good?”
Ben had his back to her the whole time. He just stood there, looking up the stairs and listening. It was symbolic in many ways; he was facing up finally and realizing there was something higher and better than what he had and where he had been in life, but the simple reality was that Rachel was still trying to drag him back down into a pit of unfaithfulness and misery in which she was deeply rooted. In many ways, he felt sorry for her.
“Tomorrow, you will pack your things and go somewhere,” Ben said, still refusing to look at her. “And you will not be welcome back in this house. We are done, Rachel.”
“No, no, no,” she said as she began to cry again. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”
“Go to your parents’.”
“I can’t,” she said, still whimpering and sobbing. “I don’t want to go there… I want to be at home with you, like I should be.”
“This is not your home anymore,” he said. “This will never be your home again.”
She was an emotional wreck. He peeked back, and she had fallen on the floor. She was propped against the wall and crying hysterically. Emotions always got the best of Ben; he hated to see even his enemies in this type of pitiful display. This time, though, he felt nothing. No remorse and no sympathy. He had given in so many times because he did not want to see her hurt, even when she had pained him. It would go on no longer.
She cried and wailed, now laying in the fetal position. Instead of walking down to comfort her as he always did, he just walked upstairs, never looking back.
3: And Silent He Was
Quia pi-us es!
Translated to: Thou art merciful. The last line of Requiem.
The audience erupted in applause. Dwight turned to them, bowing to recognize their appreciation for yet another work of art he had just displayed in this rural, cultureless town, all the while embracing the implied notion that he was, in fact, a big fish in this small pond. He then moved over, pointing with his entire hand toward the choir, which drew more applause. Ben stood there, enjoying the moment, but realizing that this six-month preparation process had just culminated with a production that lasted slightly less than one hour. He always dealt with depression once something like this ended.
In college he acted in both stage productions and film, so he stood there recalling the feeling of life slowing down when a project like that ended. For him, it was never a good feeling; he missed the hustle and bustle of going non-stop to achieve a goal, so the thought of summer approaching with nothing to keep him busy except for work proved deflating. And now that Rachel was out of the picture, he expected to have more time on his hands. At least he could finally spend the time focusing on how to make himself happy.
The house lights turned on and the audience began moving to the lobby. An announcement played over the speakers: “Ladies and gentlemen, we thank you for attending tonight’s Freeden Community Chorus performance of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Requiem. We invite all of you to join us now for a reception in the lobby.”
Dwight had already worked his way into the audience, taking compliments that blew his head up like a hot air balloon. He loved every minute of the attention he was getting.
Ben walked to the backstage area to grab his phone and keys from a bench in the dressing room. Dr. Colin Johnson, a fellow bassist and well-respected seventy-two-year-old local doctor who was nearing retirement, approached him. “We did well, I’d say!”
Ben nodded