Severance Package

Nobody warns you (well maybe they can’t because they are dead) that the worst part isn’t feeling the pain of your heart slowing to an abrupt halt. It’s the confused awkwardness of after. After your body loses the color the oxygen gave your skin, the after of feeling the cozy warmth permeate your skin, the after of thinking of tasting your favorite chocolates and the after of witnessing your husband the one person who promised to keep you safe rinse the teacup of poison remnants,pour a clean ounce of your favorite tea in your cup before he called 911. Honestly what the actual hell which is where I planned on making sure this jerk landed.

Lucas didn’t even use a fresh dish towel, he used the one towel that was a keepsake from my Grandma’s kitchen. It was hung on the wall so I could remember the times I helped her in the kitchen and it was strictly off limits for cooking and Lucas knew that. If I could cry right now tears would be staining my clothes but well I am dead so that’s a No but I am so angry I could make a tea kettle top pop. My Grandmother named me Maha because she said I was meant for great things but she called me Mae. Though growing up I hated the name I realize now in a world of Brittneys and Rebeccas I prefer Maha. I spent the last thirty years proving her right by opening a regional logistics company that paid off my student loans, paid off Lucas’s student loans, funded our retirement, paid for this brick colonial in Huber Heights and for both of our vehicles. Not to mention the semi annual vacations and curated a love of Midwestern Art displayed on our walls. I took Lucas, a sharp jawed , bronze skinned, tall drink of bourbon accountant with six figures of ivy league debt and made him my husband and then my CFO. I never knew his main goal was to be a sole proprietor.

That was six months ago as I flitted around a house I literally painted with my blood sweat and tears through long hours,rehabbing to my dream vision of a home and eventually my death. I stayed back and watched him work from our home office screaming at our vendors, alienating precious client relationships that I had worked tirelessly to get both their accounts and loyalty. I listened as he played the same sob story of a broken hearted widow who lost his one and only true love while lending lavishly off the fruits of my labor. While I floated through our walls and watched him bring in a neapolitan array of lovers. I watched as he rewarded them with my clothes , jewelry and shoes out of a closet that was now being treated as a specialized boutiques for his jump offs. That man was just a tall drink of sin but his comeuppance was on its way. 

I wish the hurt went away when I crossed over but it didn’t. I believed that once my soul detached the pain would go away, but though the physical pain was gone the pain of betrayal stayed. Though I didn’t need to breathe anymore, sometimes I would forget and suck in a breath when the grief became too suffocating for me, making me feel like I needed air.

Over a year ago he had started chipping away at my trust and what he didn’t know was that the reason he hadn't been able to access the retirement accounts was that I had made my brother the beneficiary. I left him the vehicles and the business to him but his spending was rapidly outpacing his earnings Though I had been in love and gullible I wasn’t stupid.

I remembered my Mom’s five marriages and the loyalty and ferocity she had loved and when I felt that same love. I put protections in place that wouldn’t allow me to make stupid financial decisions for Just a man. Right now it's 2:56 am and I have learned from 3am-4am I can cross the border between worlds. That I could be seen, I could be felt and I could be heard. I had tested this out on his murder of crows amount of lovers.. He never wondered why after middle of the night restroom trips during the witching hour some girls would run into the bedroom, grab their stuff and block him at an olympic worthy pace. Well tonight Lucas would find out. 

I typically didn’t lean towards drama but 6 months worth of rage had definitely upped the ante. I materialized in my favorite nightgown and robe behind him as he was brushing his teeth. I was quite a bit shorter so he didn’t see me in the mirror, but I know he felt the chill of my presence as he shivered. I took the opportunity to run my fingers down his spine and stood on my tiptoes and whispered in his ear as I took a hard nip, “ Did you miss me my love?” As I trailed, blood drawing scratches down his back. The high pitched screech as that man turned around and looked at my glowing eyes was delicious. He ran right through me in his draws and for the front door the beautiful part about this home was the winding staircase. I kept pace as he ran and I floated with him a little push here and a little push there till he started tripping over his feet. A little slide here and a little slide there but instead of steadying himself and slowing his momentum he upped his pace. I just stood at the top of the 2nd level winking at him as he again ran right through screamed and fell all the way to the bottom floor his legs and neck were bent at an unnatural angle as he landed on the hard wood but what surprised me was the floor opened and though his body stayed his soul fell into an abyss I could only assume was hell as a door with golden light opened for me. Hands clean and soul healed I went in and ran right into my Grandma’s waiting arms.