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You Cut Me Open

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He was leaving her again, ostensibly going to work, but she knew better. After almost a month of suspicions, she had finally gotten up her courage to find out the truth. She had finally called him last night, and his office phone had gone to voicemail. All four times.

She knew now, that his late nights weren't being spent "working overtime." As she watched the clock tick closer to eight, she began to feel that her heartbeat growing louder in her ears. He was routinely affectionate, and she soaked it up, but at the same time she wanted to push him away, wondering if he was thinking of her, or thinking of her. She wanted to ask him not to leave. She wanted to tell him to come home tonight instead of going to see whoever she was. She wanted to grab his arm, cling to him desperately, and never let him go.

But she wasn't sure if any of it would do any good at this point.

If he didn't see the red in her eyes when he finally came home every night, should she bother to point it out? If he didn't realize that he was ripping her heart out of her chest when he cheated, did she really want to stay? If he couldn't already see the heartbreak on her face as he prepared his briefcase and straitened his tie, then what was left to save?