Fiction
Good Wifey
A story of what it was, and what it turned into.
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TW: Domestic violence
You can’t remember the last time you went to a party. You bought a dress for this, one with long sleeves and a high neck. You should feel elegant, but you still feel like you’re playing dress-up in mommy’s closet. When you had lipstick on your teeth, he told you to get it together. Don’t embarrass him. Smile. Good wifey.
Flash —
The camera flash makes you blink away stars. Your muscles tighten where his palm is pressed against your lower back. They twitch at his touch. They remember. No one else seems to notice as they smile for the lens. Smile. Good wifey.
Flinch —
He raises his hand to point out a familiar face in the crowd. Your eye twitches, cheek smarting from a slap that happened a week ago: not today, not here, not in front of everyone. He gives you a stern look. No one else seems to see it. You look down and away, but his fingers find your chin and turn it toward him. This, they notice. He kisses you. On the outside, it looks romantic. You smile like a good wifey.
Flash —
Lightning crashed the wedding. Everyone took cover, ran for their cars. You ran together, hand in hand, for the covered porch. You didn’t make it. The sky opened over you both, drenching your white dress, his black suit. You laughed and the photographer snapped another shot. He held his jacket over your head. Your smile is bright, full of all the hope and joy of a new wife.
Flinch —
The door slams behind him. You pick up the cracked frame. A shard of glass has come loose. You run your finger over the crack, over your bright smile and his wet hair and his jacket held over you and the rain coming down on you both. You smile sadly and wonder where it went wrong. Weren’t you a good wife?
Flash —
His friends are laughing as they push him forward. The bar is dimly lit. You look smokin’ and you know it. They egg him on. You hesitate, then type your real number into his phone. He has a smile that can light up a room. Someone buys a round, and another cocktail appears in front of you and your friend. You raise your glass…
