“Just go, Walter. Find somewhere else to stay for the night!” she said, slightly shaking the door as she did so.

     “Marie! It’s me, Walter! The same man you have a beautiful, intelligent daughter with! The man you met fifteen years ago on that wonderful night in October! The man you’ve loved ever since! You love me Marie, you love me!”

     “GO, WALTER! Leave! I don’t love you. I HATE YOU!”

      Those three words out matched any others. He looked at Marie- her permanent beauty, for the first time, irrelevant. She seemed harsh, she seemed cruel, and above all, she seemed justified. He gave up, slaughtered her hopes of any continuation with one cold action. The moment in which their love died went exactly like this:

   Walter’s face tightens. He becomes furious. He hurriedly walks out the door. Marie suddenly realizes the eternal consequence of his departure, and addresses him eagerly.

Marie: No one will help you Walter! What do you even think you’re gonna do!

  Walter stops in the middle of the street and turns his face up towards Marie. He takes out his phone from his front pocket and begins to scroll down his contact list.

Walter: Well, I’ve still got those reservations.

    He looks back down at the phone, pauses, presses dial, and puts the phone up to his ear.

Walter: And, I’m pretty sure I won’t have any trouble finding myself a date…

****

    And then he said “Hello,” to some other woman.

   “Hey baby, what are you up to tonight?” Marie had thought she’d heard him say as he walked towards one of their cars across the street. But she wasn’t sure of it, and, watching his car casually drift into the distance, she realized that she was incapable of feeling securely sure of anything anymore.

     She let the door swing slowly shut, and floated up the stairs. She gradually understood, with each slow step, that things could never be the same. She reached the second floor, and peered into the room on her left. Marie sighed.

     Poor Dawn, she thought. She would feel so guilty when she heard the news- naively believing that she had played some major part in the destruction of her family life.

    I’ll show her it’s okay, I’ll hold her close and let her know that everything’s gonna be fine…

    She let herself into the laundry room, looked around, and then sat down amongst the dirty piles of clothes like a giant upon the colorful, rolling hills of heaven. She felt safe, really safe- fading fast into a deep slumber…

    An hour later she awoke.

    “Mmmmmph,” she groaned as she threw her elbows up and outward and began to yawn. She looked around for a moment, wondering why she had been dozing and for how long, and then she remembered. Fright took her over with the same intensity and surprise of a lightning strike. She no longer felt the confidence of strength by her side. She felt cold, weak, and so alone. She got up quickly and went into the hall. She saw Dawn’s room, and the anxiety began. What if she couldn’t provide for Dawn alone? What if she couldn’t do anything alone? Should she of let Walter stay-forgiven him and agreed to move on?

      She rushed down the stairs and rapidly made her way outside, off the porch, and into the street upon which Walter had been standing an hour before. It was night.

 “Walter! Walter!” she called as if she was expecting him to still be there- frozen in the most devastating moment of both their lives. “Oh, Walter! Walter!”

       And then, as reality set in, her beautifully round, transcendent eyes poured forth the tears of an indescribable sorrow. Their flow smudged her dark blue eyeliner into a distorted mess. Her vision became a blur.

       “Why me?” she cried towards the great night sky. “What wrong did I do? What have I done to deserve this?”

          She peered endlessly upwards, hoping for some heavenly answer to reign down upon her. The sky considered, occasionally blinking, or sending some thought shooting across its eternal blackness. And then, just before she gave up, just before she returned to live amongst the ruins of her life, she heard it speak:

         “Probably nothing,” it said. “But don’t ask me.”