The night started appropriately with a sizable bottle of inexpensive wine. Somehow, it might bring everything full circle from their first night together which had began years ago with a much larger, and cheaper bottle. This evening would be the last time that Silas served Rebecca a glass of anything as because several hours ago prior, a coworker of Silas submitted some incriminating evidence of Rebecca’s infidelity.
It was just after the morning meeting. At his desk, Silas adjusted his silk tie then continued writing on a sticky note:
Test water in break room dispenser. Has unusual taste.
His writing was small, neat and leaned slightly to the left. From his drawer he removed a pair of small scissors, and made a precise cut into a near perfect third. Above his desk, was an organization of many other different colored sticky notes, all cut in thirds for maximum efficiency. All with various reminders, notes, things to do. It was an archaic system, Silas would admit, but in that situation it worked for him. Everything at his desk had a place, organized. Only the notes lent a hint of any type of chaos. Silas stood, and walked towards the break room.
James leaned close and nudged Silas on his left elbow as the two walked through the office hallway.
“Need to talk to you outside, when you get the chance,” James said quietly.
The tone was casual, un-alarming. Despite that, Silas feared what he suspected for at least a year. After all, the extended signs were clear: short conversations, late texts, no answers when he had called and of the biggest red-flag, lack of sex. It all added up to Silas: she didn’t seem to care anymore.
There was no reason to prolong anything. Silas wouldn’t be able to function knowing that James had something to tell him privately. “Sure. Let’s go now.”
James and Silas had known each only for a few months. James was new to the firm, and Silas had been employed as a Risk Accessor for nearly two years. As a traditional rite of passage, some of the crew including Silas took James out to their favorite local spot: Fresh Vibes Tavern. It was the closest decent bar meaning greasy food, strong drinks, and a well, impressionable vibe. James had somehow gotten himself involved in a heated parking lot fist-fight that night and Silas managed to break it apart with words and reason.
They walked outside of the office building, their silk ties swaying almost in unison like a pair of well-tailored grandfather clocks. James led Silas to the smoking section, meaning, behind the dumpsters where the squirrels congregated. “So, I wanted to show you some things before I came to conclusions, but,” James pulled his phone out, “is this your wife?”
The pic made Silas’ heart stall for a moment. His throat dried and he felt slightly hot in the temples. In high resolution Rebecca was bound with rope. Her breasts exposed. Her body bruised. Instruments of punishment besides her. The response from “Daddy” were emojis.
Wet. Eggplant. Fire. Smirk.
The response wasn’t even anything original. Completely boring and typical. But yet, Rebecca responded to the message, “Just for you.”
The heat increased and freezing sweat began to bead on his brow as Silas began to think. All the time they had invested. Purchasing a home, the improvements, the long hours spent to earn the funds for it all. Shit, the wedding alone must have cost half a mill. He had done everything she had suggested, reasoned and sometimes demanded, to better their lives. Finance and numbers wasn’t what Silas wanted to do, but Rebecca pulled the right connections to land him a job with a plump wage with opportunity to grow - as long as he played along with her complicated orchestra. All just for her to run off and do this with someone else. The sweat, heat and dizziness began to form into anger.
At least she didn’t use the winky emoji.
She reserved that facade for Silas.
James then kept on swiping. Pic after pic, after fuckin’ pic.
Silas didn’t even need to ask what sites the pictures were posted to. He clenched his fist and let go of his grinding teeth before answering, “Yeah, that’s her.”
“She’s on Blnder. Nothing about an open marriage.”
“That’s because we don’t have one.” Silas had suggested one three months ago. He had a sense that Rebecca was getting her dick on somewhere else. Maybe if he brought it up, it would save their marriage. Before one of them broke and fucked someone else. At least then, there would have been an agreement. Things could be OK. Did it need to be Notarized? DocuSigned? Another thing to add to the list of Things to do Before You Get Divorced.
Silas poured Rebecca another glass. She brushed her silken blonde hair away from her face and took it. “I wanted to show you something,” he said as he slid up close. Her turquoise eyes widened as reached for the pocket on his trousers.
James had texted him the pics.
Rebecca looked at all of them as Silas swiped slowly one, by agonizing one. She kept a stoic face, her eyes still. No reaction, not even the smallest twitch as each shot became more explicit than the last. Silas wondered how often she had looked at these pictures. If she shared them with others. How many people knew? Did they know him? Were friends hiding secrets from him?
Rebecca defended monotone. “Theres no penetration,” she said lowly, her eyes still fixed on the phone as Silas continued to submit the evidence.
“No. Just you naked. With other naked people. Men, women - and in this one, both.” Silas was staying strong to Rebecca’s surprise. Normally with conflict or adversity with her, Silas’ voice would waver, his eyes would water.
“And not fucking, anyone.”
Rebecca knew at least several friends with dads or associates with attorneys, lawyers and probably more paralegals. Her rights were her rights. And she was not about to budge from the neglectful abuse Silas had been contributing since their marriage. If it hadn’t been for her, Silas would still be the weird little bundle of nerves wearing outdated clothes. Every piece of success he had, he had owed to Rebecca. She had shaped and molded him, gave him the desire to make something for themselves. As uncomfortable and awkward as he was, she was the catalyst and formula that made him. Not the inadequate dork that stumbled across her in community college.
Deep down inside though, he still was. Maybe that’s why she strayed. She needed - more.
He hadn’t done a single act of kindness or romance or even a move to initiate physical contact for longer than she could remember. In her eyes, they may have well been roommates. Watching television and eating spaghetti every night was not the ideal marriage that she had dreamed of as a little girl. Everything was stale, boring - routine. They were not happy. Still, the look on Silas’ face pained her. Had he really deserved to find out like this? Through photographic evidence of a betrayal?
Silas’ dad long ago taught him not to let others hurt him through his feelings. Never allow anyone to get too close because they were bound to break you given the chance and ability.
“Put your mind in a vault.” Those were the words that Randall had advised him back in his senior year of high school. To cut off your emotion, shield your feelings. And with that, you could be cold. Even hurtful in return. And nothing could touch you. It was Silas’ reactive trait that prevented him from being spineless and stepped on over and over. Good ‘ol reliable Silas Spataro - the always smiling always nice guy that everyone could count on to do anything needed. A pushover is what he was. Constantly being taken advantage of, and she knew precisely what buttons to push to get what results she wanted. And to her, it was exhausting. Rebecca wore the pants in the family, but not this time. This time, she had gone too far. She had crossed the line and cut him. It would stop tonight. Silas followed his fathers advice with Rebecca, like his dad would have advised him to do years ago, and detached.
Silas raised his voice. “So that’s what you have to say about it. There’s no sex? You’re going to tell me with all of these photos, nothing happened with anyone? That’s horseshit and you know it.” He stopped for her to respond, hoping it would be a tearful apology or an admittance of wrong doing. Maybe then they would have a chance? Maybe then there could be a rebuilding? No - even then, no they wouldn’t.
He knew what to expect instead. A freak out, a melt-down accompanied with a rollercoaster of emotions… a scene. It was her go-to when confronted with an extreme situation with the spotlight in her eyes.
Instead, she said it first with a coldness. “I want a divorce.”
“Fine.”
The next day, Rebecca was gone before Silas woke.