One night, a cricket’s song woke me from my stupor. I opened my eyes to a shimmering night. The moon seemed to be smiling down at me as it wrapped the world in a blanket of silver starlight. My watch read 11:47 and I immediately sat up. Rowing with all my might, I made it back to shore, eager to spend a little time with Kristen. She wasn’t in the living room, or the kitchen. Then, I remembered the time, and realized she must have gone to bed. Maybe I could wake her for a few quick minutes of fun before I fell back into a sleepless dream again.

Our bed was empty. A whirl of thoughts spun around my head before screaming in my face. Did she get in an accident? I ran down the steps to check the driveway and it too was empty. “Oh no,” my voice cracked. “Oh no,” I repeated. Trying to compose myself, I took a deep breath. “Let’s not jump to conclusions, Hunt.” I said.

I went into the kitchen and poured myself a cold glass of water. I stumbled into the living room, and fell onto the couch, spilling water all over my chest. Another deep breath, and I noticed the blinking red light on our answering machine. I was afraid to press play. Can you believe that? My wife, the love of my life, could have hurt, or worse, and I was afraid to find out--afraid to face any sort of reality.

Finally, I mustered up the courage and pressed play. There was a loud scream that made the speaker crackle. It sounded twisted, it sounded possessed, it sounded...drunk? The scream turned into a giddy “wooooooooh,” and I began to laugh.

“Hunt, I’m sorry but--” Kristen’s voice was my favorite song, one that I would love to leave on repeat until the end of time. “Get off--give me that back,” she said to someone. A gruff mumble answered. “Hunt, I’m sorry but the dinner ran late. Mr. Tursi--” the same voice mumbled again. “I mean Ron, took the team out for drinks afterward. I’ll be home close to midnight.” Kristen slurred. “I love you!”

“Close to midnight,” I muttered. “Well, that should be now.” In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve started to talk to myself quite a lot over the last three months. You try being by yourself all day, and tell me you don’t need someone to talk to. Then, I heard my voice. At least I think it was my voice. I didn’t feel myself speak the words, but it sounded like me. Well, it sounded like me if I had just finished chain smoking a pack of cigarettes.

“Home late again?”

“Yeah, she’s doing what she has to.” I answered.

“She goes in early, and comes home late--even works weekends.”

“Right, she’s making our dream a reality.”

“Oh? Your dream?”

“My dream...my dream is for my wife to be happy."

“Your wife who spends no time with you anymore. Even in the city she worked all day and night. She worked to stay away from you.”

“That’s...not true,” I laughed nervously.

“You know what she’s doing--what she’s always done.”

“No, no, no. there’s no way she would betray me. She loves me!”

“Odd way to show love, wouldn’t you say? She created a dream for you, and has ignored you ever since.”

“So she’s--”

“Probably right now. You heard that voice--a man’s voice.”

I rewound the answering machine. ‘Hunt, I’m sorry” I pressed the rewind then the play button. “Hunt, I’m sorry.” The spinning sound of the tape rewinding, made my flesh crawl, made my jaw tighten so tight that I thought my teeth would crack out of my gums. But, I still kept pressing rewind and play, rewind and play, rewind and fucking play. “Hunt, I’m sorry...Hunt I’m sorry...Hunt, Im sorry.”

“You’re right.” I rasped.

“You’ve always known.”

“Of course she would want another.”

“Easy choice, right? Rich, powerful, driven--versus us.”