Poor David. He’s so tired. I don’t even think he feels guilty anymore. Somehow he’s rationalized his affair with Kylie and he’ll tell friends he stayed with his pathetic wife as long as he could, long enough to get his youngest daughter through high school. But he just had to leave.

Poor Jane, he’ll tell the guys at the club. She’s gone mad. I did all I could for her, but I had to save myself. You know what I’m saying, dude?

Oh, David. You are so wrong. You are mine, all mine, until I’m finished with you. You should realize that. Oh, and just to prove my power, watch this.

“Oh, David. I accidentally broke something again. I’m so clumsy these days. I didn’t trust myself to clean the kitchen. I was afraid I might break something else but I’d hate for Betsy or you to cut yourself in the morning. Do you mind sweeping up?” I’m so pathetic. Helpless. But he thinks this is the last of it. His final night of penance before freedom.

Big exhalation. “What did you drop this time?”

“You’ll see.” I smile and take a drink of wine as he saunters into the kitchen.

A moment later he’s back, broom in hand, eyes flashing at me. “You did this on purpose, I know you did. My parents gave us that rooster for our wedding. It was an expensive antique. Priceless.”

I stare at him. Had I known it was worth something, I would have thrown something cheaper. Oh well. “I never liked it anyway.”

He holds the broom like a golf club, and tries to resist a retort. And fails. “They feel the same about you.”

I put my hand on my chest, feigning surprise. I don’t want to fight with him tonight. I just want him to sweep up the mess, perhaps cut himself superficially on a jagged piece of broken porcelain. And then I want him to sleep on the couch, where he belongs. “I’m going to bed. You can sleep on the couch.”

“Fine with me,” he yells.

I grab my wine, the wine bottle, and head toward the bedroom. I can feel how much he wants to tell me to stop, to make me obey him, to make me fall in line. But he’s never been the strong one, not from the very beginning. And besides, he has a mess to clean up in the kitchen.

I smile, imagining him with his broom and dustpan. He’ll check to see if the rooster can be glued together, salvaged in some way. But it can’t. Some things are too far broken to fix. Roosters. Marriages. Lives.

I know he’ll be gone when I wake up in the morning. The next time I see him will be at the graduation ceremony.