Chapter 3 - The Blue Glaze Bowl
"It meant nothing," Ethan said, the universal, pathetic anthem of guilty men everywhere. He finally looked up at me, his eyes pleading. "Clare, I swear to God, it was just physical. She was there. You were gone. It was a mistake. I love you."
Vanessa let out a sharp, incredulous gasp. She dropped her hands from her face and stared at Ethan as if he had just slapped her.
"A mistake?" Vanessa repeated, her voice shrill. "A mistake? You told me you loved me, Ethan! You told me you were going to leave her after the holidays!"
Ethan shot her a look of pure, venomous panic. "Shut up, Vanessa."
"Don't tell me to shut up!" she screamed back, the refined, perfumed facade entirely dissolving into desperate ugliness. She turned to me, tears streaming down her face, ruining her perfect makeup. "He promised me, Clare. He said your marriage had been dead for years. He said you were cold. He said you didn't understand him the way I did."
I looked between the two of them. The two people I had trusted most in the world, now turning on each other like starving dogs fighting over a scrap of meat in my living room.
I felt a sudden, terrifying urge to laugh.
Instead, I walked over to the fireplace mantle. I reached up and picked up the ceramic bowl with the beautiful, deep blue glaze. The housewarming gift Vanessa had given us five years ago.
Now you two have something beautiful to throw at each other during your first fight.
I held the bowl in both hands. It was heavy. Substantial.
"Clare," Ethan warned, taking a step toward me, raising his hands defensively. "Put that down. Don't do anything crazy."
I looked at the bowl, tracing the rim with my thumb.
"I'm not going to throw it, Ethan," I said quietly. "I'm not going to give either of you the satisfaction of seeing me lose control. You want me to be the hysterical, screaming wife so you can justify what you did. So you can look at each other and say, See? She's crazy. We had to find love somewhere else."
I walked over to the kitchen island, holding the bowl. I held it out over the edge of the granite counter.
And I simply let go.
It hit the tile floor with a deafening, violent crash. The thick blue ceramic shattered into a hundred jagged, irreparable pieces, scattering across the kitchen, sliding under the cabinets.
Vanessa screamed, jumping backward. Ethan flinched, clutching his towel.
May you like
The silence that followed was heavy, ringing in my ears.
"There," I said, staring at the shattered ruins of the gift. "The first fight is over. And so is the marriage."
