Rachel thought about the first time she saw him;
his good looks couldn’t hide the bad he had done.
She wanted to save him; and for a while she did.
Until it was her that needed saving; and that’s
when he left.
Almost five years went by before she saw
him again, and she still can’t recall how she
ended up at the gallery opening downtown or
if she knew he would be there. But, later that
evening—without the burden of small talk or
regret—she found herself in his bed; a night
that, ten years later, she still thought about.
Naturally, her life was different now.
Her husband knew little of her past, and rarely
asked; and her friends were mostly their friends—
and she wasn’t sure if she knew any of them
very well. But, once in a while, when she was
alone, she would think about the crooked scar
between his shoulder blades and the way he
lowered his head when he smiled.
The phone was still pressed to her ear.
“Ma’am?” the operator asked again.
Rachel noticed the marks from a wine glass
on the dining table, and the thin layer of dust
on the bookcase. Yesterday, she would have
fetched the supplies and cleaned the whole
house. But, not today.
Instead, she took the clips out of her hair
and looked in the mirror. Considering it was
the first time she had seen herself that morning,
she was not unhappy with what she saw.
'I accept the charges,' she said.
Rachel could hear the distance in the
crackling line, but not in his voice.