Page 29 of Mr. Kelly

“Is it?” I tilt my head while I study her. “So you’re saying that if it were reversed, you would have dropped everything to help me?”

“Yeah.”

She drops her eyes to her lap because she knows it’s not true. Helena would hire all the people in the world instead of seeing about me herself. She’d say it wasn’t a life-threatening injury and that, surely, I wouldn’t want her to miss a performance for a hurt foot.

“You continue to lie to me, Helena.” The enormity of the colossal failure of our marriage hits me harder in some instances. This is one of them. We’ve gotten to the point where she is devastated that her career is most likely over, and I don’t have the energy to give a damn, nor the desire to take care of her. “I used to love you so much that I would have missed major events and commitments just because you thought you needed me.”

“Used to?” she repeats.

I nod. “Yeah, I don’t love you on that level anymore.”

“Because we don’t have children? It’s always about children…”

“No!” I hiss at her. “Stop twisting shit. I’m sick of it. It’s about how you chose to lie to me for years. You lied and deflected so much that you’ve killed my trust in you so completely you could’ve had an affair our entire marriage.” I hold up a finger. “Correction. You kind of were, if you think about it. You used every form of deception for the one thing you only ever truly loved. Now that it’s left you, you want me to feel sorry for you.”

“You’re really bad at the sickness and health portion of our vows.”

“Yeah? You are really bad at the rest.”

She inhales sharply like I’ve slapped her.

“You asshole. Your love is a lie. You just wanted me because of my status and are ready to leave now that I’m older.”

“Cut the bullshit, Helena. You’re about to be thirty-eight, you’re notolder.Yes, I noticed you on stage, but that’s not what made me want you. You’ve never understood me if you think otherwise.”

Helena takes a sip of her wine. There is a stubbornness in her posture that ensures me that she isn’t taking what I’m saying seriously.

“Whatever. You’re a shitty husband, and it’s just more prevalent now that I am not a trophy wife. Asshole.”

For her to dismiss everything I’ve done for her over six years of marriage pisses me off so quickly I feel almost capable of snapping her neck. My fucking life revolved around her, and she doesn’t see that. My fists clench and unclench. There is an edge in my voice when I speak.

“I'm going to do you a favor and assume that it's the wine and pain meds talking.”

“Why? Because you'd introduce me toTrunkagain,” she mocks me.

I move in her direction so fast that she jumps and spills some of her wine once she realizes that I’m leaning face to face.

“Again? You've never met that side of me. If you had, the mere thought of acting like you do, or talking to me the way you have, would give you anxiety.” Her lip trembles, but I’m not done. “I've hurt people for less. I left that part of me behind when I met you. I was determined to be gentle because no woman should live in fear of her man.” I push some of her hair off her forehead. “Maybe, that was my mistake with you, because at least then you would think before you speak or act. Plus, you'd definitely know when you should shut the fuck up!"

I’m seething by the time I finish talking. She breaks down and cries harder. Normally, I’d want to console her, but now I want to choke her. It’s a dangerous thought. Backing away, I go to the best place I can when I’m triggered.

“DoI need to order a cleaning? Do I get to break some ground on my new burial site?” Andrea asks when I storm into his house.

He must have a visitor, because it’s a bit early for him to only be covered by his boxer briefs.

“No. Helena lives to see another day.”

“And that’s why you’re a saint. I would have killed her a long time ago,” he admits with a shrug. “In fact, the only reason she breathes is because of you.”

“Yeah, you never liked her. Am I interrupting?”

Just as I ask the question, some half-naked woman walks over to him and pulls him into a kiss. He breaks the kiss and pushes her away with his forearm.

“Don’t ever grab me,” he chastises her. “Don’t you see me talking to my brother? That’s fucking rude. Get your shit and leave.” He glares at her as she walks away. She turns back around, her body full of attitude.

“You know what-” she starts, but he’s in her face before she can finish her thought.

He tilts his head as he stares at her in the eyes. “Please tell mewhat. I’d love to hear it.”

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