’Til Death Do Us Part

I’m sitting at the table with my hands wrapped around my tea cup, the contents of which are still too hot to drink. I lean over and blow into the cup, the steam warm against my lips.

A robin twitters on a tree branch outside, welcoming the rising sun. Through the fogged glass on the sliding door I watch the red, yellow and orange leaves float to the ground to join the piles of others below. All in all it is a beautiful, peaceful morning.

Or it should be. Except I’m sitting across from HER. This woman I have grown to despise. A woman who, twenty years ago, I vowed my love and life to. That was a big mistake.

Every morning she sits stirring her tea for about twenty minutes before drinking. And all I can hear is CLINK CLINK CLINK against the cup. The noise echoes through the whole house. It is impossible to enjoy a peaceful, quiet morning when all I hear is the clinking sound of metal against ceramic. The worst part is, I don’t think she’s even aware of how much noise she’s making. So I can’t say anything without sounding like a lunatic.

“Dear?” Her nasally voice squeaks in my direction and I pull my head up to look at her.

“Yes, my love.” I say.

“You know what would go great with tea?”

“What’s that?”

“Toast.”

“Would you like me to make some for you, darling?”

“With jam. If it isn’t too much trouble.”

“Of course it isn’t. No trouble at all.”

I get up and go out to the kitchen. I pop two slices of bread into the toaster. If it isn’t too much trouble, I say to myself mockingly. Yea, I think, I’ll get you your toast so that you can take all year to eat it, nibbling at the edges and getting crumbs all over yourself and the table. Some days it looks as if a toddler has eaten breakfast at our table.

It’s not just the way she eats and drinks that I find so irritating. It’s also the way she shuffles her feet across the floor when she walks. It’s the way she says Anywho instead of Anyway. It’s how she waits until the last minute to get ready to leave the house and then frantically searches for her keys or her purse or her shoes or anything else she’s misplaced that day.

Fortunately, I won’t be living with all her insufferable personality quirks much longer. I made a vow to this woman and I’ve never been one to break a promise, but I’ve realized I don’t need to. I found a loophole, ’til death do us part.

So I got up early this morning and made the tea with a little extra ingredient this time, the rat poison I found under the sink. I mixed it thoroughly with lots of honey so she won’t suspect a thing! This time tomorrow, I’ll be enjoying a quiet morning alone for the first time in twenty years.

I’m so giddy with anticipation that I practically skip back to the table with the plate of toast.

“Why are you so happy?” She asks.

“I just love you so much.” I say and watch her sip her tea.

I take my cup in both hands and drink heartily, my eyes focused on her, making sure she drinks every drop. I set my empty cup down, the sweet taste lingering on my tongue. Almost too sweet.

Suddenly, a wrenching pain in my gut causes me to hunch over in my chair.

“Argh!” I cry, grabbing the table.

“Oh dear!” The woman shouts, “What’s wrong?”

“Did you…did you…” I struggle to form the sentence through painful gasps for breath, “Did you switch my tea?”

“You put too much honey in mine! I couldn’t even drink it.”

I fall to the floor curled in the fetal position.

“I didn’t think you’d mind since you hadn’t yet touched yours. You know I hate my tea so sweet!” She gets up from her chair and runs to my side, “What’s wrong with you? Should I call an ambulance?”

I shake my head. Using every ounce of energy I have I sit up and whisper in her ear “’Til death do us part.” Those are my last words before my vision grows blurry and I shut my eyes.