She cried to herself as she nicked her thumb in her hurry to clean the red stickiness off the knife. They would be here soon.
She slipped her clothes off and soaked them in a bucket of bleach. Hopefully the stains would come off or she would have no options but to lose them. When the water finally ran clear off her body she turned the shower off and put on a fresh set of clothes.
A car honked as it drove up to her door.
‘Perfect timing’ she thought as she took the cherry pie from the oven.
If he had a watch he could set the time just by looking at them.
At 7pm a car would drop the old man home. She would put the finishing touches on dinner while he bathed and changed. At 8 they would say grace and share a modest dinner. After dinner he would watch the 9pm news while she cleared the table. Sharp at 10 the lights would go out but not before she put a plate of leftover food on the steps for him.
Alan claimed the plate and hobbled back to his bench. Friday was mince pie night.
“A dozen roses please. Make the card out to Anne.”
“She’s a lucky woman” the florist said giving him the bouquet.
He hailed a cab and made his way to her house. He hadn’t spent much time with her for a few weeks and flowers always helped her to forgive him.
Back home, Sarah put dinner in the oven. She had made his favourite tonight. She had seen him trying for the past few weeks and had found hope again in making their marriage work. She called him but was forwarded to voicemail.
Across town he was already eating desert.