I said, “Whatever's going on between you two is none of my business. I'm only here for the pillow.”
Gretchen wore the look of someone waiting to see how long I could hold out. She flipped back the smoothed-out comforter.
Underneath lay a row of neatly arranged pink lace-trimmed pillows.
Beside them sat a box of ultra-thins.
Gretchen followed my gaze to that opened box of ultra-thins.
She didn't say a word, just waited for me to blow up first.
Still, I only said, calm as ever,:
“I have other things to do. Hurry it up.”
“Then let's check the dressing room next door.”
I followed her into the dressing room next door.
An open suitcase sat on the floor.
It held a few clothes, and on top of them lay an unopened box of ultra-thins.
Gretchen said, “I'm packing. Tomorrow I'm flying overseas with Michael to catch a game.”
Seeing me keep my face cold and refuse to take the bait,
Gretchen deliberately added another line::
“The World Cup, once every four years, so popular plenty of people can't even squeeze in to watch.”
“A world you can't squeeze into, yet you keep spending time trying, always thinking you can change the ending. But the seats are fixed!”
“The ones who can't squeeze in were never going to.”
My patience was wearing thin. My voice came out cold and hard::
“I'm only here for the pillow. Michael's yours, a gift from me!”
She froze for a second, then put on her innocent, sweet-poison act::
“Sandra, what are you talking about? Don't get the wrong idea about me.”
“I was only telling you about the World Cup. I didn't mean anything else.”
I stressed each syllable and said it again::
“I'm only here for the pillow!”
Her expression turned hard to read, and then something seemed to come to her::
“I just remembered where it is. Come with me.”
I followed her to a third room.
The room had been set up as a cat den.
The moment I stepped in, I saw it: the rectangular sleep pillow, white with mint-green embroidery, sitting inside the litter box.
Reeking of cat urine.
I stared at the pillow fouled with cat waste, and rage surged through me.
Gretchen explained in that calculated tone, half innocent, half maddening enough to kill::
“Sorry about that, Sandra. My cat's just so naughty.”
“It's only a pillow. I'll buy you a better one.”
“And honestly, Michael spoils that cat way too much.”
I raised my hand and slapped Gretchen hard across the face::
“You did this on purpose!”
“Sandra!”
Right behind it came Michael's sharp shout.
He pulled Gretchen into his arms, gazing with pained tenderness at the slap mark on her cheek.
Gretchen wept, the picture of fragile pity, putting on her understanding act::
“Michael, don't be harsh with Sandra.”
Michael frowned and scolded me: “It's just a pillow. Was that really necessary?”
My eyes went red with fury, and I raised my hand and slapped him too::
“It was!”
Michael's face snapped to the side, a pink slap mark blooming across it. He glared at me in disbelief.
“Sandra, what's gotten into you?”
“I'm done with you, that's what! Michael, I really regret loving you for twelve years!”
I turned to leave.
He shouted after my back, furious::
“Stop being unreasonable!”
The next day, after handing off the last of my work at the company, I wheeled my luggage to the airport.
A message came in from Gretchen::
“I already ordered you ten pillows online. They'll arrive in the next couple of days, so keep an eye out for the delivery.”
“Michael and I are about to board. My cat's a little delicate, so there are a few things to keep in mind. I made a chart.”
“Just follow what's in the chart and take care of her for me.”
Michael sent me a message too::
“On the 9th of next month, I'll be back right on time to get our marriage license.”
I stared at the message and let out a cold laugh.
Michael, your punctuality means nothing to me now. I'll never show up for you again.
From here on, you can fly off to your World Cup, and I'll fly off to my freedom.
