Insight

Marrying her was the biggest mistake of my life. As if revelation, the thought rushed into his mind as the cereal bowl whizzed by.

“You knew all weekend? And didn’t care to tell me?” She stamped her foot.

“I can’t talk to you about this,” he said. “You’re too crazy.”

“But you quit? Last Friday? You just up and quit?”

When they’d first met, her hair was blond, flowing around her shoulders. Now she’d had it slashed into short dark spikes.

“I couldn’t take it anymore. And… well…”

She waited impatiently. “Well what?”

“Well, Don said some things that really pissed me off.”

“Jesus. You couldn’t overlook it? For the sake of our health insurance, rent money… And my classes, how will we pay for them?” She wilted into a chair. “I can’t believe you did this to me. To us. Again.”

“Well, hey, I can drive you to school.”

The two older kids left the kitchen with their mother. They had places to go, even if their father wasn’t going to work. After all, it was Monday.

He bit into his toast while the baby banged a spoon on the highchair tray. I’ll tell her tonight. That it’s over.