4:00 in the afternoon, the last shoppers were leisurely picking items off the shelves of the family grocery store.
Isaac Wells stood at checkout number three, mechanically punching barcodes.
The red beam of the scanner slid across the black and white strips.
The cash register made familiar sounds, and customers paid with cash or cards.
Fatigue accumulated in his shoulders after an 8-hour shift.
He looked at the clock above the entrance and counted the minutes until the end of the workday.
The queue was gradually thinning.
Here was an elderly woman buying bread and milk, paying with change from an old wallet.
A young guy took energy drinks and snacks.
A mother with two children loaded her cart with groceries for the week.
Each customer was part of the usual stream that flowed through the store’s cash registers day after day.
Here came the last customer to pay.
Isaac closed the register, counted the proceeds, and handed the shift over to Jessica, the night cashier.
She was about 10 years younger than him, always smiling and energetic.
She smiled at him and wished him a good evening.
He nodded back, took off his uniform vest and headed for the exit.
Cold air hit his face as the automatic doors parted in front of him.
Matthew Allen was already waiting for him outside.
The friends had known each other since high school.
They’d sat at the same desk in high school, played basketball together, gone to prom together.
After school, their paths diverged, but the friendship did not interrupt.
Matthew worked as a loader at an auto parts warehouse and often stopped by Isaac’s house after work.
Today, he was sitting on a bench outside the store, smoking and reading something on his phone.
He was wearing work clothes, blue jeans, and a gray t-shirt with the company logo.
Hi.
Matthew looked up and tucked his phone into his pocket.
Hi.
Isaac sat down next to him.
How long have you been waiting? about 15 minutes.
That’s okay.
How’s work going? The usual.
Not too many people.
It’s Monday.
It’s the other way around.
A van came in with foreign car parts.
We had to unload everything by closing time.
Matthew put out his cigarette on the edge of the bench and tossed it into the trash can next to him.
You don’t look so good.
What’s wrong? Does it show? It’s noticeable.
We’ve been friends for so many years.
I can tell when you’re in trouble.
Spit it out.
Isaac rubbed his face with his palms.
He’d wanted to talk to someone about it for a long time, but he hadn’t dared to.
The topic was sensitive, and he wasn’t sure if he should share his suspicions.
Matthew was the only person he could confide in.
“They’d been through a lot together.
First love in high school, problems in college, job hunting, weddings.
You know, there’s something wrong with Briana,” he began cautiously.
“What do you mean? Did you two have a fight?” “No, we haven’t.
She’s been kind of uh cold.
We used to talk a lot.
We’d talk about plans, work, friends.
She’d tell me about her day, what happened at the hospital.
Now she comes over in the evening.
We have a quiet dinner.
And she goes to the TV or the phone.
It’s like she’s not interested in me.
Maybe she’s just tired from work.
It’s hard to work in a hospital, especially as a janitor.
No, it’s not fatigue.
I know what she looks like when she’s tired.
It’s something else.
And she’s been staying late more often.
We used to go shopping together on Fridays, plan our weekends.
Now she says she has to stay and clean.
Or that a coworker’s sick and she needs to work for two.
Well, that’s her job.
There’s always a lot to do in a hospital.
Maybe there really is more work.
I know, but it’s more than that.
Isaac lowered his voice and looked around, though there was no one else around.
She’s different.
She doesn’t respond to my jokes.
When I try to hug her, she pulls away.
She says she’s hot or has a headache.
and she looks at me in a distant way like she’s seeing me for the first time.
Matthew thought about it.
He’d known Briana and Isaac for 5 years since they’d been married.
They always seemed to have a strong relationship.
Briana was a cheerful woman.
Loved cooking, decorating the house.
Isaac often said he was lucky to have a wife.
And when did that start? Since when? About a month ago, maybe a little longer.
I didn’t pay attention at first.
I thought everyone had bad periods, but now it’s lingering.
Maybe you should ask her straight out.
Tell her what’s bothering you.
I’ve tried several times.
She says it’s fine that I’m making up problems.
She says it’s just a lot of work and not enough time to talk.
And other than that, is she acting normal? Does she do things around the house? Other than that, yeah, she does things around the house.
She cooks, but she’s kind of uh cold, mechanical, like she’s doing her chores, not living.
Look, maybe she’s just depressed.
It’s fall.
Women get that a lot.
This is the third week in a row.
Besides, she’s never reacted to the weather before.
Hm.
When was the last time you two spent time together? Anywhere besides home? We went to the movies last month.
Saw that Denel Washington movie.
Then we had dinner at that cafe on Second Street.
But she was distracted there, too.
She kept looking at her watch.
She was in a hurry to get home.
You didn’t do anything like that.
No arguments about money.
Relatives? No, we didn’t fight about anything.
Not at all.
Money’s okay for now.
Relatives live far away.
She’s just different, and I don’t understand why.
Matthew took a new cigarette out of the pack and lit it.
He was silent for a long time, pondering his friend’s words.
You know what? Maybe she just needs time.
Everyone goes through rough patches.
Maybe there are some problems at work that she doesn’t want to burden you with.
Maybe Isaac wasn’t sure.
Something told him it wasn’t work.
Try treating her special.
Give her something nice.
Take her out to a nice restaurant.
Maybe it’s just a lack of romance.
I’ve been thinking about it.
I was going to take her to that new restaurant in the center square this weekend.
So, do it.
And if it doesn’t work, then we need to have a serious talk.
Demand answers.
Matthew looked at the watch on his wrist.
I got to go.
My wife’s cooking dinner and I said I’d be home by 6:00.
Don’t worry too much.
I’m sure it’ll all work out.
Maybe she’s just going through a rough patch.
Thanks for listening.
I’m relieved.
You’re welcome.
And remember, if you need anything, call me anytime, even at night.
We’re family friends.
We have to help each other.
They said goodbye, and Isaac walked to the bus stop.
Matthew started his old Honda and drove the other way.
The bus ride home took about 20 minutes.
Isaac sat at the window and looked out at the familiar streets.
The autumn leaves were a yellow carpet on the sidewalks.
The street lights were already on, though it was still a long way from dark.
He thought about Matthew’s words.
Perhaps his friend was right and he was exaggerating the problem.
Perhaps Briana was really just going through a difficult period at work and he should have been more understanding.
But an inner voice told him otherwise.
He had lived with his wife for 5 years and knew all her habits, moods, reactions.
What was happening now was not like simple fatigue or depression.
The bus stopped at his stop.
Isaac got off and headed down the familiar street.
The evening sun lit up the houses.
Birds circled over the rooftops.
A dog barked somewhere and the sound of the television came from the window.
Just an ordinary quiet street on an ordinary weekday.
Their house stood in the middle of the block, a small one-story house with a white picket fence and a neat garden.
Isaac and Briana had bought it three years ago, taking out a 15-year mortgage.
Back then, they dreamed of children, planned how they’d set up the nursery in the back room.
For now, there were no children, and the nursery served as a study.
Briana should have been home from work by now.
Her shift usually ended at 4, and she’d be home by 4:00.
Isaac opened the front door with his key and walked into the hallway.
“Hi, I’m home,” he shouted, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the hook.
“Hi,” Briana called back from the kitchen.
Her voice sounded the same as usual, calm, not annoyed, but not happy either.
Before, when he’d come home, she’d come out and give him a hug, ask how he was doing.
Now, she would call back from the kitchen and go about her business.
Isaac made his way into the kitchen.
Briana was standing at the stove stirring something in a large pot.
She was in her work clothes, blue pants and a white hospital uniform t-shirt.
The t-shirt had the logo of St.
Mary’s Hospital on it.
Her hair was put up in a ponytail as it always was after work.
There was fatigue on his face, but it was just normal tiredness after a day of work.
“How are things going at work?” he asked as he approached her.
“Fine.
And you?” “It was okay, too.
Not a lot of customers.
What are you cooking? Chicken soup.
It’ll be ready soon.
It’s good.
I’m going to go change.
Isaac went into the bedroom and took off his work clothes.
He changed into homemade jeans and an old t-shirt.
In the mirror, he saw his face worried and tired.
Matthew was right.
His restlessness was noticeable.
When he returned to the kitchen, Briana was already putting soup on plates.
There was bread, butter, and salt on the table.
Everything as usual, but the atmosphere was different.
You can go to dinner, she said.
Okay.
They sat down at the table and started eating.
The soup was delicious as always.
Briana was a good cook.
That was one of the reasons he had fallen in love with her.
But now even food couldn’t hide the tension between them.
How are things going at the hospital? He asked, trying to make conversation.
The usual.
Lots of work.
And how was Deborah? Wasn’t she sick? She’s cured.
She’s out today.
That’s good.
They used to talk about a lot of things at dinner, work, news, weekend plans, friends.
Briana told funny stories from the hospital and he shared stories from the store.
Now they ate in silence, occasionally exchanging formal sentences.
The head office auditor is coming to the store tomorrow, Isaac said.
Ah, yes.
I hope it goes well.
I’m sure it would.
After dinner, Briana put the dishes away, and Isaac went into the living room and turned on the television.
This too had become a habit of the last few weeks.
Everyone did their own thing after dinner.
Before they often cooked together, did the dishes and talked about the day’s events.
“What are we watching?” he asked when Briana joined him on the couch.
“I don’t care.
It’s your choice.
” She used to always have an opinion on what to watch.
She liked comedies, historical movies, sometimes melodramas.
Now she didn’t care.
Isaac found a crime series they sometimes like to watch together.
Crime scene.
Detectives investigating murders in different cities in America.
Briana used to comment on what was happening on the screen.
Sometimes they would argue about who the killer was, try to guess before the finale.
Now she just sat next to her and stared at the screen.
About half an hour passed.
On the screen, the detectives were interrogating the suspect and the room was quiet.
only the sound from the TV and the ticking of the wall clock which Briana bought in an antique shop.
Isaac fertively looked at his wife.
She did look tired, but it was not just physical fatigue.
In her posture, in the expression of her face was something detached.
Suddenly, Brianna’s cell phone rang.
The sound was sharp in the silence of the room.
She straightened up abruptly as if she had been electrocuted and looked at the phone screen.
Something like concern, maybe even fear, flashed across her face.
She quickly picked up the phone and got up from the couch.
Sorry, it’s work.
I have to take this.
She walked out into the hallway.
Isaac heard her muffled voice but couldn’t make out the words.
She spoke for quite a while, 5 or 6 minutes.
Her voice sounded agitated, not like the usual work calls.
When she returned, she had a strange expression on her face.
Not relief after solving a work problem, but something else.
She sat down on the couch, but not in her usual spot next to it, but at the other end, farther away.
She had her cell phone in her hands and was typing something quickly.
“What happened at work?” Isaac asked.
“Huh?” she looked up as if she didn’t immediately realize he was addressing her.
“Nothing much.
The nurse was asking about tomorrow’s shift.
What are you typing? Oh, just uh I’m making a to-do list for tomorrow.
It was weird.
Briana never made to-do lists on her phone.
She had a notebook for it in the kitchen.
She finished the message and quickly hit the send button.
Then, even stranger, she immediately deleted all correspondents and placed the phone screen down on the armrest of the couch.
Isaac noticed the movement.
Briana had never before deleted a message immediately after sending it.
And why did she put the phone screen down? She usually left it as it was, screen up.
It was so natural that he’d never paid attention to it before.
Why don’t we put the tea on, he suggested, trying to normalize the situation.
Okay, I’ll put it on.
She got up and went into the kitchen.
The phone remained on the couch.
Isaac looked at it and thought they had always had an open relationship.
They used to have no secrets from each other.
Briana never hid who she was texting with.
They’d even looked at pictures on social media together sometimes, discussing news from mutual friends.
Now everything had changed.
He could hear the kettle boiling in the kitchen.
Briana was humming something under her breath.
The first time he’d heard her sing in weeks.
It was strange.
A few minutes ago, she’d been tense and nervous.
And now, suddenly, she was in an upbeat mood.
What could have changed her state of mind so quickly? Briana returned with two cups of steaming tea.
She had chosen their favorite cups, a blue one for him and a white one with roses for herself.
These cups were a gift for their first wedding anniversary.
Here you go.
Thank you.
They drank tea and watched TV.
On the screen, the detectives had solved a murder.
The culprit was the gardener, just as Isaac had suspected.
Briana used to marvel at his ability to guess murderers in detectives.
Now she wasn’t interested.
Isaac tried to concentrate on the plot, but his thoughts kept returning to the phone call.
Who could it be? And why was she so nervous? If it really was a coworker from work, why did it take leaving the room to answer it? And why had she immediately deleted the message after the conversation? “I’m going to take a shower,” Briana said, finishing her tea.
“Good, and I’ll watch the news some more.
” She collected the cups and went into the kitchen to wash them.
Then he heard her go into the bathroom and turn on the water.
She took her cell phone with her.
She had never taken her phone into the shower before.
Said it was a time to relax when she didn’t need to communicate with anyone.
Another little thing that didn’t fit into the usual pattern.
Isaac switched to the news channel but couldn’t focus on what was going on.
The anchors were talking about the problems in the economy, the election in a neighboring state, the weather forecast.
But his thoughts kept returning to his wife’s behavior, the coldness, the late returns from work, and now the secret phone calls.
He remembered the conversation with Matthew.
Maybe he should have taken his advice and tried to patch things up, give something meaningful, invite him to a restaurant, have a romantic evening, but he had doubts inside.
What if the change in Briana’s behavior had another reason? What if his suspicions were justified? He tried to push those thoughts away, but they came back again and again.
Matthew had said that women had difficult periods, but this one had been going on for over a month.
And the phone call today, why was she so scared? And why did she delete the email right away? The water in the bathtub turned off.
A few minutes later, the door opened and Briana came back into the living room in a terry cloth robe.
Her hair was wet from the shower, but she still had her cell phone in her hand.
I’m going to lie down, she said.
I have to get up early tomorrow.
I’ll stay up a little longer.
I’ll be there soon.
Don’t stay up too long.
She nodded and went into the bedroom.
Isaac was alone.
He stared at the TV screen, but saw only one thing.
Briana’s face when the phone rang.
Frightened.
No, not frightened.
Worried.
As if she were afraid it would ring in front of him.
As if the call might reveal something she wanted to hide.
He turned off the TV and went into the bedroom, too.
Briana was already lying under the covers with her back turned to the wall.
She was lying on the very edge of the bed as far away from his half as possible.
Before they had often slept cuddled together, or at least touching.
Now there was space between them.
The phone lay on her nightstand with the screen facing down.
He noticed that the screen would occasionally light up.
Messages were coming in, but Briana didn’t respond to them.
That was strange, too.
She usually checked her messages right away, even at night.
Good night, he said as he went to bed.
Good night.
Her voice sounded sleepy already, but Isaac could sense she was awake.
He could tell from her breathing, from the tension in her body that she was lying there thinking about something.
He lay down and closed his eyes, but sleep didn’t come.
His thoughts were spinning in his head.
Tomorrow, he would talk to Matthew again.
Perhaps his friend would be able to give him better advice, but for now he could only wait and watch and hope that his suspicions were groundless and everything was really due to fatigue or problems at work.
But deep down inside, he felt it wasn’t that something had changed in their lives and that something threatened to destroy everything they’d been building for 5 years.
Saturday came gray and rainy.
Isaac woke up at 8:00 in the morning as usual, though he could sleep longer on the weekend.
Briana was already up.
He could hear her fiddling in the bathroom.
Last night’s mysterious phone call had been on his mind.
He went down to the kitchen and put the coffee maker on.
Briana came down a few minutes later, dressed in a house dress and robe.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Good morning, coffee.
” “Yes, thank you.
” They ate breakfast in the customary silence.
Isaac tried a few times to make conversation, but Briana answered in one word.
After breakfast, she started cleaning the house, and he sat in the living room with the newspaper.
“By the way,” Briana said, dusting off a shelf.
Ezra called yesterday.
He and Charlotte want to come over for dinner tonight.
Isaac lifted his head from the newspaper.
Ezra was his younger brother, 2 years younger.
They had always been close despite their different personalities.
Ezra was more carefree, liked to party, married late.
Charlotte had been his wife for 3 years.
Usually, family dinners brought Isaac joy, but now he felt strangely uneasy.
“Good,” he said.
“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other.
” “Yeah, about a month.
I was thinking of making roast chicken and vegetables.
” “Sounds great.
” The rest of the day went by with the usual household chores.
Briana cooked, shopped, cleaned.
Isaac helped as much as he could.
By 5:00 p.
m.
, everything was ready for the reception.
Ezra and Charlotte arrived at 6 sharp.
Ezra looked like Isaac, but taller and broad-shouldered.
The physical work in the warehouse kept him in shape.
Charlotte was a petite woman with short hair and lively eyes.
She worked at a dry cleaners across town.
Hey, brother.
Ezra hugged Isaac and patted him on the back.
Hey, how’s it going? I’m good.
How about you? Pretty good.
Charlotte hugged Briana.
What a smell.
What did you cook? Chicken and vegetables.
I added your favorite seasoning.
Oh, thank you.
They went into the living room.
Isaac offered beer to the men, wine to the women.
The usual conversation began.
Work, news, plans for the winter.
But Isaac noticed something strange.
Briana and Ezra hardly looked at each other.
When Ezra spoke, Briana looked at Charlotte or at the table.
When Briana answered, Ezra suddenly found something interesting on the ceiling or on the phone.
“Do you remember?” Ezra said when we used to build a treehouse in Grandma’s garden when we were kids.
“Of course I remember,” Isaac laughed.
“You fell off that branch and broke your arm.
” “And you scolded me for not listening because I told you the branch was thin.
” Everyone laughed, but Isaac noticed that Briana’s laughter sounded strained.
She was smiling, but her eyes remained serious.
Okay, let’s go eat, Briana announced, standing up.
Everything will get cold.
They moved to the dining room.
Briana had indeed cooked perfectly.
The chicken was juicy, the vegetables crispy, and the side dish of rice complimented the dish.
Ezra praised the food wholeheartedly.
“Briana, you have outdone yourself.
Thank you.
You did your best for the guests.
We’re not guests.
We’re family.
” Charlotte objected.
Of course we are,” Briana agreed.
But there was something strange in her voice.
They talked about a variety of topics over dinner.
Ezra talked about the new order in the warehouse.
Charlotte complained about the difficult customers at the dry cleaners.
Isaac shared news from the store, but he kept noticing oddities.
When Ezra asked to pass the salt, Briana served it without looking at him.
When she asked if she needed more chicken, she would turn to Charlotte.
Even though Ezra’s plate was nearly empty, it was barely noticeable.
But Isaac knew his wife well enough to know something was wrong.
Ezra was acting unusual, too.
Usually, he was the soul of the company, joking around, telling funny stories.
Today, he was more reserved.
Several times, Isaac noticed his brother sneaking glances at Briana, but looking away when he met her eyes.
“How are things going at work for you, Briana?” Charlotte asked.
“It’s okay.
Lots of work as always.
It’s always busy at the hospital.
Ezra nodded.
It was the first thing he’d said directly to Briana all evening.
She gave him a quick glance and then quickly averted her eyes.
Yes, there’s enough, she answered briefly.
And I hear they’re opening a new wing at the hospital, Ezra continued.
There’s going to be more work there.
How do you know that? Charlotte wondered.
I heard it on the news or I read it somewhere.
Briana tensed.
Isaac noticed it.
She pressed her lips together the way she always did when she was nervous.
I haven’t heard about it, she said.
Maybe it hasn’t been officially announced yet.
Ezra shrugged.
Maybe.
There was an awkward pause.
Charlotte looked surprised at her husband, then at Briana.
We’re thinking about getting a new car, she said.
The old one’s a wreck.
Yes, it’s about time.
Isaac agreed.
What make are you considering? A Honda, maybe? or a Toyota.
The conversation turned to cars.
Ezra talked enthusiastically about the different models, but Isaac noticed that his brother glanced at Briana from time to time.
She was carefully avoiding his gaze.
When dessert was served, the apple pie Briana had baked that morning.
Everyone relaxed.
The wine and good food had done their job, but the tension didn’t go away.
“Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom,” Briana said, getting up from the table.
and I’ll go to the kitchen and get some more water,” Ezra said almost simultaneously.
They walked off in different directions.
That left Isaac and Charlotte.
“How are things going at work?” Isaac asked.
“Me?” “Fine.
What about Briana and Ezra?” “They’re kind of weird today.
” Isaac was surprised that Charlotte had noticed, too.
“What do you mean?” “Well, they hardly look at each other.
They used to always talk a lot.
Ezra liked to tell Briana stories, and she’d laugh.
Today they’re like strangers.
Yeah, I noticed that too.
Maybe they had a fight about something when we haven’t seen each other in a month.
Maybe the last time.
I don’t remember anything happening.
They talked quietly, so they couldn’t be heard from the kitchen or the hallway.
Isaac sensed that Charlotte was also puzzled by their behavior.
Meanwhile, Briana had returned from the restroom.
She was walking down the hallway when Ezra came out of the kitchen.
They met near the living room door.
Isaac could see them through the open doorway.
They stopped in front of each other.
Ezra said something quietly.
Briana shook her head.
Then their gazes met.
And Isaac saw something that struck him.
There was intimacy.
Not the brotherly or friendly closeness that a wife and husband should have.
Something else.
It lasted only a few seconds.
Then they parted quickly.
Ezra was the first to enter the dining room, followed by Briana.
Both of their faces were tense.
How was the pie? Briana asked, sitting down.
Delicious, Charlotte replied.
Can I have the recipe? Sure.
The rest of the evening passed without much incident.
They talked about the weather, plans for the holidays, mutual acquaintances, but the atmosphere remained tense.
Isaac caught a few odd glances between Briana and Ezra.
quick, cautious, full of some incomprehensible meaning.
By 900 p.
m.
, the guests began to pack up to go home.
“Thank you for a wonderful dinner,” Ezra said, hugging Isaac.
“Goodbye.
” “Come back often,” Isaac replied.
“I will.
” Ezra turned to Briana.
“Usually, they hugged goodbye like relatives.
Today, they just nodded to each other.
“Thank you for dinner,” he said formally.
“You’re welcome.
Come again.
” Goodbye.
Charlotte hugged both hosts.
The house was quiet after the guests left.
Briana began to clear the table.
Isaac helped.
They worked in silence.
Each of them thinking about their own things.
“It was a good evening,” Isaac said finally.
“Yes, it was.
” Ezra and Charlotte are in uniform.
“Uh-huh.
” They didn’t talk again.
After cleaning up, they watched a little TV and went to bed.
In bed, Briana was once again lying on the very edge.
Turned away from the wall, Isaac lay sleepless, remembering the evening.
The behavior of his wife and brother kept him awake, especially that moment in the hallway, their gazes full of some kind of mystery.
What could it mean? In the morning, he woke up with a firm decision.
He needed to talk to Matthew.
Perhaps an outsers’s perspective would help make sense of the situation.
Sunday passed quietly.
Briana said she was going to her friend Janice’s house and left after lunch.
Isaac stayed home and watched sports on TV, but his thoughts were occupied with other things.
On Monday, he met up with Matthew after work.
They sat in the same spot outside the store.
“How are you doing?” Matthew asked.
“You were going to talk to your wife then.
” “Yeah, that didn’t work out.
But something strange happened yesterday.
Isaac talked about Saturday night dinner, about Briana and Ezra’s behavior, about the strange looks between them.
” “H Matthew wondered.
Had they been on good terms before? Yes.
Very well.
Ezra had always thought of Briana as a sister, not just a fiance.
She’d treated him like a little brother.
And suddenly they’re avoiding each other.
Exactly.
Didn’t you notice something before? Before the relationship problem started, Isaac tried to remember.
Not really.
Although uh the last time they’d visited, I think it was early October, Ezra had said something about the hospital where Briana worked, praising how important she was, what a great job she was doing.
So what? That’s normal.
Yeah, but Briana blushed and changed the subject.
And then when we saw them off, she said goodbye to Ezra for a long time.
I didn’t pay attention at the time.
And that look you saw in their hallway, describe it.
It was like there was some kind of mystery between them, some kind of intimacy.
Ezra said something to her.
She shook her head and then they looked at each other and there was I don’t know how to explain it.
Intimacy or something? Matthew was silent for a long time.
Listen, have you ever thought? He began cautiously.
That maybe What do you mean? You know that there was something between them? Isaac turned sharply to his friend.
What are you trying to say? I don’t want to suggest anything bad.
It’s just you’re describing a situation where your wife’s been acting strange for a month and now with your brother, they’re avoiding each other.
And that look, that’s impossible, Isaac said firmly.
Ezra’s my brother and Briana.
He didn’t finish the sentence.
In the back of his mind, a seed of suspicion was already planted.
Maybe I’m wrong, Matthew said hastily.
Just keep your eyes open.
And above all, don’t jump to conclusions.
Yes, I understand.
But did he? Sunday night was playing in his head like a broken record.
The stairs, the tension, the avoidance.
And then there was the phone call on Friday.
What if the caller wasn’t a coworker? But uh he pushed the thought away.
It was too monstrous to be true.
Ezra was his brother.
They’d grown up together, trusted each other, and Briana was his wife, the one he’d loved for 5 years.
But the seed of doubt had been planted, and it was beginning to sprout.
“I have to go,” Matthew said.
“But you call me if you need anything, and don’t worry before you do.
I will.
Thank you.
” Isaac drove home with a heavy heart.
Could his suspicions be true? Could the people closest to him have betrayed him? At home, Briana was already preparing dinner.
She smiled at him, but it was a strained smile.
“How are you?” she asked.
“Fine.
” He looked at her and tried to read in her face the answers to the questions that plagued him.
But all he saw was the tiredness and tension that had been her constant companion for the past month.
The evening passed as usual, dinner in silence, TV, and early to bed.
But Isaac couldn’t sleep.
He stared at the ceiling and thought about Saturday night dinner.
About how Briana and Ezra had avoided each other.
About their meeting in the hallway, about that look.
Was it possible? His wife and his brother.
The thought was so painful that he tried to push it away, but it came back again and again.
Briana lay beside him, quietly breathing in her sleep or pretending to be asleep.
He couldn’t be sure.
How could he be sure of anything now? Tomorrow would be a new day.
Maybe tomorrow would clear things up.
Maybe his suspicions would be unfounded.
Or maybe he would learn something he never wanted to know.
Isaac closed his eyes and tried to sleep.
But sleep didn’t come for a long time.
And when it did, it brought nightmares of betrayal and lies.
Wednesday was an unusual Wednesday.
The family grocery store was not crowded at all.
And after the lunch break, the flow of customers dried up.
Isaac stood at checkout number three and was bored.
Time dragged slowly like molasses.
By 2:00 in the afternoon, all the goods had been checked.
The shelves restocked and the cash register counted twice.
Manager David approached him around 3.
Listen, Isaac, it’s quiet today.
Maybe you want to go home early, he suggested.
Jessica can come in an hour early.
Isaac was surprised.
His shift usually ended at 4:00 and he’d never asked to leave early.
Sure about that? What if there’s a lot of people? There won’t be any.
Look for yourself.
David waved his hand at the nearly empty sales floor.
It’s been like this all day.
Okay, if you don’t mind.
Go on.
Go.
Jessica’s on her way.
Isaac closed the cash register, counted the proceeds, and handed the shift to his colleague, who was surprised to see him early.
He took off his uniform vest, grabbed his jacket from the locker room, and went outside.
It was a/4 to 3 on the clock.
The bus ride home was about 20 minutes.
That meant he’d be home by a/4 to 4.
Briana usually hadn’t gotten home from work by then.
The weather was gray and dank.
A light rain was drizzling down and the wind was whipping leaves through the streets.
There weren’t many people on the street, all hurrying about their business, hiding from the weather.
On the bus, Isaac sat at the window and looked out at the cityscape passing by.
His mind was spinning with thoughts of his conversation with Matthew yesterday.
His friend’s suspicions seemed absurd in the light of day, but in the darkness of the bedroom at night, they made ominous sense.
Maybe he should have a serious talk with Briana tonight.
Tell her directly what was bothering him.
Find out what’s wrong.
After all, they’d been married for 5 years, and they should be able to talk openly about problems.
The bus stopped at his stop.
Isaac got off and walked briskly toward the house.
The rain intensified and he pulled the hood of his jacket up.
As he turned the corner onto his street, he saw a familiar car.
Ezra’s old sedan was parked outside his house.
Isaac stopped like a dumbfounded man.
What was Ezra doing here at this hour? He’s supposed to be at work at the warehouse.
Ezra’s workday ended at 5 like most people’s.
So, why is his car parked here at 4:00 in the afternoon? Isaac slowly walked closer.
It was definitely his brother’s car, a blue Honda Civic with a distinctive scratch on the rear bumper and a soccer team sticker on the back window.
My heart beat faster.
Maybe Ezra was sick and had come to them.
Or was he in some kind of trouble? But then why hadn’t he given any warning? He usually called before he came over.
Isaac reached the house and stopped at the gate.
Briana’s car was there, too, so she’s home.
That was odd.
Her shift ended at 4:00, but she usually didn’t get home until 4:00.
He opened the gate and walked down the path to the front door.
In the house, the living room light was on.
Everything looked normal, but something about the situation was unsettling.
Isaac quietly opened the door with his key.
Didn’t want to scare his wife and brother in case something happened to Ezra.
He took off his wet jacket and hung it on the hook.
“Hi, I’m home,” he shouted as usual.
No one answered.
It was strange.
If Briana was home, she always answered from the kitchen or the living room.
Isaac listened.
The house was quiet, but not quite.
There were muffled sounds coming from somewhere upstairs.
He made his way to the living room.
No one was there.
Briana’s purse was on the couch, and on the coffee table was a man’s jacket he didn’t recognize at first.
When he looked closer, he realized it was Ezra’s.
The sounds continued to come from upstairs, from the bedroom.
Isaac frowned.
What are they doing up there? Could Briana be showing Ezra something in the bedroom? Isaac walked up the stairs.
The wooden steps creaked under his weight, but he tried to walk quietly.
A strange curiosity mixed with growing unease.
There were three rooms on the second floor.
Their bedroom, a guest room, and a bathroom.
The sounds came from the bedroom.
The door was a jar.
Isaac stepped closer and listened.
What he heard made his blood freeze in his veins.
It was moans.
Not moans of pain or malaise.
They were moans of pleasure.
A man’s voice and a woman’s intertwined in a rhythm that was painfully familiar to him.
No, it couldn’t be.
He had misunderstood something.
Isaac cautiously approached the door and peered through the crack.
What he saw shattered his world into a million shards.
On their bed, the bed where he had slept next to his wife for 5 years, lay two naked bodies.
Briana was on top, her long hair spread across her shoulders.
Beneath her lay a man.
Isaac could only see his arms hugging his wife’s waist tightly.
But those arms were enough.
He knew every mole on his brother’s arms.
Knew the scar on his left forearm that Ezra had gotten when he fell off his bike as a child.
This was Ezra, his brother, in bed with his wife.
Time had stopped.
Isaac stood at the door, unable to believe what he was seeing.
It had to be a nightmare.
a hallucination.
Anything but reality.
But it was reality.
His wife and his brother were betraying him in his own home on his own bed.
Something snapped inside like a string stretched to the breaking point.
Isaac pushed the door so hard it hit the wall.
What the hell is going on in here? His scream sounded like a gunshot.
Briana turned around sharply, her face flushed with horror.
Ezra tried to get up but got tangled in the sheets.
Isaac.
Briana tried to cover herself with the sheet.
It’s not what you think.
It’s not.
Isaac grabbed the door jam to keep from falling.
I see what it is.
Ezra finally got out of bed, trying to get dressed.
Brother, let’s talk.
Don’t you dare call me brother.
Isaac’s voice trailed off.
How could you do this to me? How could you do this to me? Briana cried, clutching the sheet to her chest.
I’m sorry, Isaac.
We didn’t mean for you to find out like that.
We didn’t.
You didn’t want me to find out at all.
Ezra pulled on his jeans and tried to move closer to his brother.
Isaac, I know what it looks like.
Get away from me.
Isaac pushed his brother away with such force that he fell back onto the bed.
Both of you get out of my house.
Isaac, please listen to us.
Briana pleaded.
Hear us out.
What are you going to tell me? That it was an accident? That you slipped and fell in bed? Rage filled every cell in his body.
5 years of marriage, 5 years of trust and love.
35 years of brotherhood, all shattered in an instant.
How much? He screamed.
How long? Briana and Ezra were silent.
Both of their faces were wet with tears.
Answer me.
2 months? Briana said quietly.
2 months.
All the times he’d noticed the oddities in her behavior.
The times he’d been tormented by suspicion.
The times he’d blamed himself for being a bad husband.
all the times they’d been together.
“Get out,” he said in a cold voice.
“Leave now before I do something I’ll regret.
” Ezra pulled his shirt on.
“Isaac, we’ll talk when you calm down.
” “Never.
I will never talk to you again.
” They hurriedly got dressed.
Briana was sobbing as she tried to button her dress.
Isaac went downstairs.
Isaac slowly made his way to the living room and sank down on the couch.
Reality split in two.
There is the world where his wife is cheating on him with his own brother.
And there is the world of 5 minutes ago where he could still believe he had a family.
He stared at the pictures on the shelf, their wedding photo, the photo from last Christmas where all four of them, him, Briana, Ezra, and Charlotte smiled happily into the camera.
How many lies were in those smiles? Suddenly, he was hit with a wave of rage like he’d never felt before.
It rose from the depths of his soul, sweeping away everything in its path.
Love, sadness, confusion.
All that was left was blind, allconsuming anger.
He jumped up from the couch and made his way to the bedroom closet.
There on the top shelf lay the gun, the Glock he’d bought two years ago for home defense.
He had almost forgotten about it, but now he remembered every detail.
Where the cartridges lay, how to load the clip, how to [ __ ] the bolt.
His hands moved of their own accord as if they had a will of their own.
The clip clicked into place with a distinctive click.
The bolt sent the first round into the barrel.
The door opened.
They entered cautiously, tentatively.
Isaac, Briana called out.
We want to talk.
They walked into the living room and saw him.
They saw the gun in his hands.
Isaac, Ezra said quietly.
Put it down.
Put it down.
Isaac’s voice sounded strangely calm.
Why should I put it down? Please, Briana pleaded.
We can talk this over.
Discuss? What is there to discuss? You ruined my life.
Everything I believed in.
Everything I loved.
We didn’t mean We didn’t want to.
You didn’t want it.
The rage came back with a redoubled force.
A red veil covered my eyes.
The blood rumbled in my ears.
You didn’t want to, but you [ __ ] in my bed for 2 months.
The gun trembled in his hands.
Isaac, stop it.
Ezra took a step forward.
Stay away from me.
The shot rang out like thunder.
Ezra fell, clutching his chest.
Blood seeped between his fingers.
Briana screamed.
Isaac looked at his brother lying on the floor.
It was unreal.
He wasn’t the one who had fired the shot.
He wasn’t the one who killed his brother, but the gun was in his hands and Ezra was dying on the floor.
“Killer!” Briana screamed.
“You killed him!” She rushed to Ezra, kneeling beside him.
Ezra stared at the ceiling with glassy eyes, his chest stiffened motionless.
“Kill her!” Briana screamed again.
Something shivered in Isaac’s mind finally.
She was mourning Ezra, weeping over her lover’s body, not begging her husband’s forgiveness.
The second shot, Briana was silent.
Third, four.
A succession of shots, then another clip, then another.
He couldn’t stop, just kept shooting.
Isaac stood in the living room and on the floor were two bodies with bullet holes in them.
The bodies of the people he loved most in the world.
What had he done? His hands were shaking.
The gun dropped to the floor with a clang.
Isaac sank to the couch.
Ezra lay by the chair, eyes closed, his shirt soaked with blood.
Briana slumped beside him, her hand outstretched to his face.
What had he done? What had he done? Isaac found his cell phone and dialed a number.
Police.
I need the police.
I killed my wife and my brother.
The address is 23 Elm Street.
The voice on the phone asked something, but Isaac wasn’t listening.
He hung up and sat back down on the couch.
Now all that was left to do was wait.
He looked at what was left of his family.
Two bodies in a pool of blood.
A gun on the floor.
A ruined life.
5 years ago, he’d been happy.
He had a wife he loved, a brother he trusted, plans for the future.
Now he had nothing.
It was getting dusk inside the house.
Outside, the rain continued to drip and Isaac sat on the couch waiting for the police to come and arrest him for killing the dearest people in his
