Thank You, Thank You, Thank You

Eventually, after more than enough histrionics, Mark stopped raving. Staring fake daggers at Kara, he added, in a dangerously quiet voice, "See you at home -- bring a lawyer," then stomped out.

Kara was gob-smacked. Finally extricating herself from the tangled bedding and clothes, she ran out in time to see her husband roar off. Returning to the condo, she wept and paced, keeping her own grief.

Barry tried to point out that it was all a set-up, but she just responded, "No, no, no!" over and over.

He mused aloud, "Why? Why would he want to set us -- you up?"

Kara only shook her head, paced and sobbed. "No, no, no!"

Finally, she stopped and looked at him. Her eyes swam with confusion. "Sorry," she whispered. "I need to be alone." Her lips twisted into a wry quasi-smile, as she added, "Please. Please leave. Let me be."

Pulling on the rest of his clothes, Barry walked silently to the door, where he turned to her, and dramatically placed his business card on the end table. "Just in case," he muttered, catching her eyes for a moment. She gave the slightest nod. He turned and left, without another word.

Over the next days, Barry was wracked with guilt -- guilt about what happened to Kara, as well as guilt about his own infidelity. Was he so very weak, he thought, that he couldn't muster more than token resistance when faced with temptation. "Then again," he rationalized, "Isn't that what trial separations are about?" and it further occurred to him to wonder what Paula was up to. Was his wife out fucking, too? He had no answer to that. He was numbed by the confusion and overwhelmed by an amorphous despair.

Barry didn't see Kara again over the rest of his stay. He flew home, extremely bemused. Doubly so! Considering what he was flying into, as well as the shit-storm he had just flown out of.

Epilogue

There was nobody at the airport to meet him; not that he'd really expected anyone. So he'd taken a taxi home. Curiously -- ominously -- a U-Haul box van was parked in front of house.

Barry dropped his bag in foyer of the strangely silent house, and entered living room, looking furtively about. Paula, and another woman he didn't recognize, both rose from the settee, as if they'd been waiting for him. Paula stepped forward -- while the stranger hung back -- and began to speak, interrupting his "Hello."

"I'm terminating our relationship..."

"Wha...?"

"It's done. There's no point in discussion. I've taken my fair share of the household contents -- "

"Fair?"

"I've got a new cell. There's no need for you to know the number. When we're settled, a lawyer will contact you about the disposition of the house." Barry stood, his mouth open in astonished silence. He just couldn't believe how cold, and matter-of-fact this woman he thought he had known could be. He was flabbergasted -- but not so much so that he didn't catch the 'we -- when we're settled'.

Paula turned, took the arm of her companion, and headed for the front door, tossing a "Good-bye," over her shoulder as she passed Barry. Stunned, he watched the truck disappear down the street, then walked through the house, noticing vaguely, without any real interest, what was missing from each room.

Getting back to the foyer he spied his dropped bags, and something in him clicked. He suddenly perked up, as an odd realization settled over the miasma of thought that made up his consternation. "Somewhere in this mess," he muttered to himself, "surely lay the hand of destiny!" And with a sudden sense of purpose he grabbed his laptop. He had seen Kara's address when he found her purse, and copied down her cell number.

"Maybe," he thought, as he set about booking a flight to Winnipeg, "she can use some moral support!"