Red Handed

It was noon when she finally caught me in the act. It was different to what I had played out in my mind over and over, me getting up and running away as if a rabies-ridden mutt was chasing me. No, I was surprised how calm I was about it, in the glare of her half furious, half vexed eyes I just sat there and stared with an open mouth. I couldn’t believe it took her that long to find out, but I expect the thought must have crossed her mind. After all, I had been coming home late once in a while and when she asked me about my day I was always hesitant.
         “I can explain,” I said, but I knew it was hollow.
         “I’m sure you can Adrian,” she hissed through tight lips, “What, did you think I’d never find out what you were doing behind my back?”
         “I never meant to-”
         “You never what Adrian,” she cut me off, her anger growing, “You never meant to lie to me? To deceive me like this?” I could see she was about to burst so I went to touch her hand but she quickly pulled it away like I was acid. I guess I was.
         “I love you Janet,” I said sincerely.
         “Is that so?”
         “You know I do, I’d never intentionally hurt you. It was a mistake, I should have told you,”
         “How long?”
         “What?”
         “How long has this been going on for?” Her eyes were beginning to well up.
         “I don’t think that matters baby.”
         “How long,” she screamed, turning red.
         “Two years,” I whispered. She began to cry and there was nothing I could do.
         “I thought you were a lawyer Adrian, you told me you were a lawyer,” she said through her streaming face, “and I find you here, in this place.”
         I looked up from my checkout at the growing line of muttering people behind my soon to be ex-wife.