She Planted Cabbages to Signal Her Lover,So I Signed the Divorce PapersChapter 1
"Hey sis, whenever Edmund Dickerson's away on a trip, just plant two cabbages in FarmVille. I'll see it and come over."
I'd come home early. Found the message on Marjorie Swanson's computer by accident.
Every drop of blood in my body turned to ice.
I sat there for a long time, silent, before my trembling hand found the mouse and clicked into her social media feed.
January 17th. Two cabbages planted.
January 25th. Again.
Then February 1st. February 9th.
Every single time, lined up perfectly with my business trips.
It hit me all at once. Last fall, around Thanksgiving, my best friend had come by the house for a visit. Right after that, Marjorie got hooked on FarmVille.
Played it every single day. Couldn't get enough.
I'd teased her about it at the time. Told her nobody played that game anymore.
Now I understood.
I was the one nobody should've been playing.
——
I swallowed everything down and shut the computer off.
That evening, Marjorie came home from work.
She was changing out of her shoes when she spotted me. A flicker of surprise crossed her face.
"Honey, you're back early this time?"
"Work wrapped up ahead of schedule."
I sat on the couch. My voice didn't waver.
She smiled, walked over, set her bag down. Said that was great, asked what I wanted for dinner.
The smile was flawless. Not a single crack.
Same as always, she tied on her apron, washed the vegetables, chopped them. The kitchen filled with the warm smell of a home-cooked meal as the spatula scraped against the pan.
At dinner she piled food onto my plate, asked if the trip had been tiring, said I looked like I'd lost weight.
I answered every question. Like I didn't know a thing.
Afterward she cleared the dishes, wiped down the table, mopped the floor. Didn't miss a single task. The dish towel by the sink was folded into a neat square. Fresh bag in the trash can.
She moved through all of it so quietly, as if she were afraid of disturbing me.
The perfect wife. The kind you couldn't find a single fault with.
After her shower, she came out in a satin camisole nightgown, her hair still half-damp against her shoulders.
She sat down beside me. Rested one hand on my arm.
Her fingertips traced a slow line across my skin. Then she leaned in, her voice soft as velvet.
"Honey, it's been a while since we..."
"Do you want to?"