CHAPTER 11

That night, Shane and Carmen reached the point of non return.
Shane’s Morgan… destroyed.
Carmen’s precious kitchen… gone up in flames.
Shane’s Staffordshires… in pieces.
Carmen’s business… over.
Shane’s lawyer (me)… fired.
Carmen’s patience… gone to hell.
After crashing all the figures and statuettes crossing her way, after being chased by Shane like a prowl, after slaps and scratches and bruises and insults, finally Carmen locked herself into her bedroom.
Shane used that particular occasion to cut all of Carmen’s stilettos with a hacksaw.
Some hours later, Carmen reacted by destroying all of Shane’s cameras.
No one of them wanted to leave the house.
At that point, no one of them wanted the other to leave, either.
And their house was a battlefield.
There were glasses and potsherds everywhere.
Chairs, tables, even the couch… all knocked over.
Light bulbs destroyed and the whole mansion laying in the dark.
Every small corner in the house was becoming a potential hideaway.
No more red, green and yellow areas.
Shane had locked all the doors, all the windows, every single let-out.
Nothing neutral.
Nothing civil.
Nothing remotely reasonable.
It was a war.

Flashback – Shane

We’ve been hiding in this house for almost forty-eight hours, now.
I feel like I’m fighting a trench warfare, and I know that my enemy is right behind my back, just a few breaths away from me.
Carmen was an athlete. She is agile, feline, she is soundless when she moves.
I can’t hear her.
And I am afraid of being caught unawares.
Silently, I close the door of my bedroom and rest my back against it.
Slowly, I slide down, sitting on the cold floor, my head leaned back.
I sigh.
Fuck this.
Fuck this.
How did we end here?
How can it happen?
I rub distractedly my forearms, feeling a sick dizziness taking over me.
Right then, a small, folded piece of paper appears under the doorstep.
I hold my breath, frowning.
I don’t hear Carmen’s steps as she walks away.
Licking my dry lips, I unfold the paper and read the note.

“Meet me in the dining room in two hours.
Carmen”.

I clench my jaw. What does she have in mind?
I am worried, and scared of her glorious, irrepressible fury.
But the same time I can’t help but smile, a little.
Just a little.
A small light of hope is glancing at me for the deepest corner of my soul.
Maybe we can fix this.
Sighing, I rub my forehead.
That’s impossible, at the point where we are.
I mean, look at us.
Look at our house.
Look at our marriage.
I think about me fucking Nikki and I feel sick.
I feel like I am about to hurl and a sudden realization hits me in the guts.
I have never said sorry for what I did.
I mean, I said sorry but…
Did I mean it?
Did I really mean it?
I said sorry but I also blamed Carmen for leaving me alone, when I am the first one to blame.
Because yes, she is right. I’ve ignored her.
I didn’t take care about my wife, I was too engrossed in my job, in my fucking job, to feel that something was wrong with Carmen.
Maybe I still have a chance.
Maybe my chance is written on this small piece of paper.
Tiredly, I get up and motion towards the shower.
I so need one.