September

You wake up to the sounds and aromas of bacon sizzling, coffee brewing, and fresh-cut flowers on the nightstand next to you. Then, the familiar fragrance of lilac and vanilla, September’s perfume as she leans over to kiss you awake. Ten years. Every day the same, her love an endless, steadfast river of affection and adoration. Opening your eyes now, you stretch languidly across the bed, and she melts with a starry-eyed expression. She thinks you’re the cutest thing she’s ever seen when you wake up and makes sure never to miss seeing it in the morning. She’s perfect. Your two children are already settled in at the breakfast table, eating and quietly chattering. It’s all idyllic, all thanks to her, your perfect partner, your best friend, and most reliable confidant. Guilt gnaws at you, coiling in your stomach, a sour, twisting snake of shame. You’ll be sent to work with a packed lunch and wearing neatly-pressed clothing, and soon after clocking in will spend the better part of the day with Jennifer, the spunky office assistant you’ve been assigned. September met Jennifer at the company party last month, thought the assistant’s playful behavior around you was cute and thought nothing of it. What she didn’t know, was how people were whispering “work wife” and “is he cheating?” around the office. It started as a guilty pleasure, Jennifer was refreshing, youthful, and made you laugh. Now you cannot wait to get to work and you are slow to leave when it’s time to go home. You realize it’s time to get control of yourself, to honor the woman who has made your life as sweet as it is. Can you bear the thought of putting Jennifer out at arm’s length?