My eyes squinted, adjusting to the bright morning sun, as I exited the lab where I worked. I instinctively look both ways as I cross the parking lot towards my small gas-efficient car. The white paint-job causes a sharp glare as the morning sun continues to rise higher as the rest of the world’s day began and mine ended. I never really was a day person. I preferred to work all night and sleep all day, but here lately my job had me up all hours of the day and night. I was lucky enough to go home at all.

I’m not trying to complain; I’m really not. I love my job. I am a scientist on the brink of a major medical discovery. If my theories and testings are correct, I could create a antivirus that could cure all forms of diseases and viruses in one shot. I loved my job for that, but it kept me away from him. The one who’d taken my heart from the moment we’d met over three years ago. I used to consider quitting just for him. I dreamt of having kids and becoming a stay at home mom, but that changed when I discovered the formula that could save man kind for the rest of eternity. Still, I knew he was lonely; I was barely ever home and I missed him. I know he missed me.

Today was our anniversary and it would be perfect. Tonight we would talk and I‘d fix our marriage. I would tell him my plan to leave my findings in the hands of my team and take the summer off. I’d been working non-stop for seven months while my colleagues took vacations. It’s time I took mine. We aren’t any closer to the antivirus than we were three month’s ago. A month’s vacation wouldn’t change anything, except the relationship between my husband and I.

I stop at a red light a few blocks from our apartment and spot his favorite coffee shop across the intersection. A smile creeps across my face. The light turned green. I crossed the intersection and turned straight into a parking spot. I’d start his day off with his favorite coffee and donuts waiting for him when he wakes. Today would start out nice and end great. I would make sure of it. I wouldn’t let the smile waver from my face for anything.
***

With the coffee in one hand and the bag of donuts clenched between my teeth, I used my other hand to unlock our apartment door. After what seemed like forever, still smiling, I wrenched open the door and walked inside. I set the keys down on the table by the door and grabbed the bag of donuts from my mouth. Saliva coated a small portion of the paper bag, but that didn’t matter.

I made my way towards the kitchen where I set the donuts down along with my own coffee cup. Turning in step towards the hallway, his coffee still in hand, I heard something. I listened harder and heard it again. It was a quiet, and girlish giggle coming from the bedroom. Our room. A mistress? I ask myself. Could he be cheating on me, after three years of marriage? I brushed away the thought immediately. He couldn’t; he wouldn’t. It was his sister. Maybe he’d told me she’d be coming down today, and I hadn’t heard him. Yes, that was it. It was the only explanation. Clenching my empty fist, and holding tightly to his coffee in the other hand, I opened the door. Praying I would find his short and stout sister, Louisa, giggling over their childhood together, I greeted him, "Jonathon, I got you coffee and donuts, after I left the lab."

Devastation. The only word that could describe the moments that followed. I looked towards the bed, knowing I would find his, supermodel gorgeous, secretary in a deep and passionate kiss with my husband. The man I devoted my life to, maybe just not enough. Maybe I wasn’t enough. I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply. I couldn’t even hear his pleads. His lips moved, but no sound reached my ears. My thoughts were spinning out of control. My life was over. I couldn’t survive this blow. It was too much to handle. Through the silence, I heard a voice. It told me what to do. I dragged my self to the closet, he kept a hand gun in the closet incase of emergencies. This seemed like an emergency.

I take a deep breath and took one last look at them. They are terrified; I can see the looks on their faces, yet I still could hear nothing. I could read the begging on his lips. "Rachelle, please!" he repeated. I lifted the gun towards my own temple. My finger glided over the trigger and began to squeeze, and in the last second I turned it straight for his heart. He’d ripped my heart to shreds, and I’d shot his to pieces. I dropped the gun. I’d kept my promise: the smile had not wavered from my own lips. I could taste the blood that had splattered onto my face. I watched as his lover screamed in horror and scrambled over his lifeless body.

I calmly left the room as she began to dial 911 in a panicked voice shaking with horror. When I reached the kitchen I picked up my coffee and threw it into the trash before sitting own and opening the bag of his donuts. I dipped my hand into the bag and pulled out a glazed donut. After taking a bite out of the donut, I lifted the lid of his coffee, still in my hand. I dunked the remaining bits of donut into his coffee and ate them before drinking the rest of it in one gulp. I should have felt pain from it, yet I didn’t.

I could see the horror in their eyes, as the cops burst through the door to find me sitting there calmly with a blood-splattered smile. The fear radiated off of them as my calamity continued. I let them handcuff me and read me my rights through their horrified tones. I was not crazy, as they suspected. Only devastated traumatically into the happiness I ever so longed for.