The Sick Wife

There’s something within me that is pure evil, but I can’t pinpoint what it is

I am pulled out of my delusional state by the cry of my baby girl, Somi at 7:04 A.M.. I slide my slender body out of the royal king sized bed and place my small tan toes on to the chilled floor. I guide myself over to Somi’s cream bassinet. Her tan face lights up with a smile once she sees her sickened momma. Her big, brown eyes are glowing with the glory of her father and burning of the evilness of her mother. 

“Is someone hungry or did they just miss their momma?” I coo as I reach down to place her on my hip and pinch her puffy cheeks. She’s a sign that I am somehow still human. We exit the bedroom and stroll down the hallway, heading towards the kitchen. The kitchen had been newly renovated to model the kitchen in Sia’s Los Feliz home. I place Sonni on the marble countertop as I swing to the fridge to grab a pre-made smoothie bowl. Somi eagerly watches and bounces as I sway towards her with the bowl. The second it is in front of her, she digs right. I chuckle as I leave her to own devices, she’s smart enough to know not to leave from the counter. But I wouldn’t be too upset if she somehow falls and cracks her skull in half. I slip out onto the balcony connected to the kitchen. The sun is already rising and I can feel the warmth on my skin, warming my cool body and awakening the evil within. I turn to see my daughter, still tearing away at the smoothie bowl. I hope she doesn’t turn out to be like me, an evil woman who desires pain and destruction within the world. I hope I never have the urge to take it out on her.

As I zoom out, the sound of keys clashing against one another and the front door closing in the distance snaps me back to reality. In a haste, I exit the balcony, making sure to lock it behind me. When I turn around, standing at the countertop in his black Lemaire suit, running his fingers through Somi’s hair is Roman, my husband. He is the exact copy of River Phoenix, right out of the film Running on Empty. His aura is dark and even though he was playing with Somi, his crisp, blue eyes were locked on me. Whenever he looks at me, I feel like he can look into my soul and see how disturbed I truly am.

“Why are you always doing that?” I stroll over to the counter, avoiding eye contact and picking up the bowl. 

“Doing what, Baby? I brought you breakfast from Sarabeth’s.” He places a large bag onto the counter and begins taking out containers of food. I place the bowl at the bottom of the sink. I take Somi off the counter and walk her over to her walker in one of the corners of the living room. As I walk with her, an urge, an idea, sneaks into my mind. I imagine myself throwing Somi across the living room with so much force that she dies on impact. I clinch her tightly as I drag my mind back into reality. I sit her in the walker and she touches my face with her little face and smiles. She must know.

Roman is watching me, analyzing my actions with our daughter. His stone cold face doesn’t turn when I catch him. I walk over to him as Somi zooms around the living room. 

“I was planning to cook breakfast after I fed Somi and got myself together.” Before I could continue, Roman palms my face and pulls me into a kiss. He tastes like rock candy and is as harsh as winter winds. We met during university while I was studying English and he was studying Business. I was his tutor for one of his classes and the rest is history. Now, we live in a penthouse in New York City with a one year old daughter. I am an editor for a fashion magazine and he’s planning to take over his father’s business. He breaks away and licks his pink lips while analyzing me.

“It is ok, baby. The housekeeper will be over soon to take care of her and the house. There is a company lunch today and I’m bringing you along with me.” Ronan looks at his Rolex watch and back at me. “It’s almost 8 A.M., so I want you to eat something and take the next couple hours to get ready. We are leaving at 2:30 P.M..” I nod and give him the sweetest smile I could muster. “Don’t force it.”

It’s 2:11 P.M. and my curls are alive, my face is painted, and my dress from Saks is fitted onto my body. I feel human again. Roman is pacing back and forth in our bedroom, talking to his father. Roman is the heir of his father’s business and apparently this lunch is bigger than I thought it would be. I struggle to zip up the back of my dress and call for Roman. After a few moments, he comes into our walk-in wardrobe and dressing room, inspired by the one in Gisele Bündechen and Tom Brady’s Los Angeles home. I motion at the zipper and he strolls over, still on the phone with his father. He runs a finger down my spine, chilling my heated spirit. He zips me up and hangs up the phone on his father, putting it in his pocket. He wraps his arms around my waist and rests his head on my shoulder. We glare at each other in the mirror, taking each other in during this brief moment. Our relationship is still like we’re young, college students experiencing love for the first time. But deep down, I didn’t understand why he still stays with me after seeing my true form. I’ve cost him his life, his reputation and his career several times in the past. For example, I thought he was cheating a couple years back. I stormed into his office and exploded on him during one of his business proposals, threatening his life and embarrassing him. Turns out, the woman was only his business partner that he didn’t tell me about. Was I really at fault, though? 

“You’re the most gorgeous being I’ve ever seen.” Before I could respond, the housekeeper knocks on the door to inform us that our chauffeur had arrived. 

Lunch was at Mastro’s Steakhouse. A beautiful restaurant with outstanding atmosphere, savory food and delectable wine. Roman kept me glued to his side while he interacted with the guests. The visions, the sick, twisted visions, were slowly dancing in my mind as I thought about the amount of people I could kill within one minute with the sharp steak knives. I would grab Roman’s hand whenever it became too intense and I believe I grabbed his hand about twenty times within the three hour long lunch. I didn’t feel real at all. The lunch was officially over at 7 P.M. and the warm sun had started to go down, leaving me cold. The drive home was quiet, roman didn’t speak to me. Once we entered, Somi ran to us and Roman picked her up before I could. The housekeeper tells me that she made dinner and finished all her tasks. I dismissed her. I took a deep breath and decided I wanted to make brownies. 

Roman had put Sonmi down for bed and is now playing guitar on the couch. I watch him as the brownies cool on the stovetop. I scoop a piece out of the pan and center it on a plate. I take the plate with me as I sit beside Roman. He’s playing She’s Always a Woman by Billy Joel, a song that he loves because it reminds him of me. 

“Roman.” He turns his head towards me and raises his eyebrows to signal that he’s listening. “Would you still love me, be married to me, if I was a monster? Would you still love me if I killed us both?” He looks at me, with blank eyes and kisses me softly. During our first month of dating, I had an episode where I lost control of myself and attempted to kill him with a butcher knife. He didn’t stop me, only waited for me to calm down and held me while I hysterically cried and apologized a dozen times.

“I chose you to be my wife, my life partner for eternity, baby.” His lips still linger on mine as I take in his words. “I would give you my beating heart if it meant not having to scrape your brain off the living room walls.” I sigh, the evil being within me sighs. That’s all I needed to hear. I stand up, with the plate in hand, and head back to the kitchen. I throw away all the brownies that were laced with rat poison before going back into the living room and falling deep into Roman’s arms.

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