Chocolate Was Her Favorite

As he stared down at the recipe book, he knew this would be the best birthday ever. One that could never be forgotten. He would make sure this day was memorable forever, just like all of the beautiful memories they had made together that he couldn't forget, no matter how hard he tried.

First, flour, sugar, baking soda, salt, cocoa. It reminded him of Sundays. Every week of their ten year marriage he cooked pancakes for breakfast on Sunday. He always added cocoa. Chocolate was her favorite; she couldn't resist chocolate.

That Sunday morning breakfast was their time to connect, to take a moment away from the hustle and bustle of their busy lives, to plan their next week together. He couldn't help but wonder what she did with her Sundays now.

Eggs, buttermilk, vanilla, oil.

He chuckled to himself as he cracked the eggs, remembering how they had egged his brother's house together when he'd done something particularly egregious at a family gathering. They'd run home and laughed about it for hours. They were always laughing together. One of the things that people always noticed about them was that they were so happy together, always laughing.

The smell of vanilla reminded him of her, of her Vanilla Fields perfume. It still made his heart skip a beat as he imagined breathing in that scent while kissing her neck.

The sight of the oil pouring into the bowl made him think of her hands on him, rubbing oil all over his body as she massaged him. Nobody had ever touched him that way before and he was sure nobody ever would again. He wished he could pull her hands back onto him now, but this would be so much better. This cake was going to fix everything. He had always made her birthdays special, but this would be a birthday for the history books.

He stirred in the last ingredients and filled the pan. As he sat waiting for it to bake, his mind swirled with memories of their time together, of plans for the future. This was exactly what she needed to see how wrong she'd been.

Finally the ding of the oven timer. That beautiful, wonderful music to his ears signaling that everything was about to change. He packed the cake he'd put so much thought and effort into. There was a purple box waiting to hold his creation. Purple was her favorite color. Everything down to the very last detail was planned especially for her.

He opened the filing cabinet and pulled out the handcrafted card he'd made for her. He'd worked on it for hours to make sure it was just right. He went to work on his handwritten note - the last perfect detail before it was time to see her.

Time to drive. So close. Everything was so well planned. This was exactly what he needed. This was exactly what she deserved.

As he pulled up to his first red light he remembered how they used to kiss passionately at every red light or stop sign. She was perfect for him. Why couldn't she see it? She must be blind.

Pulling up to the house they had spent their life together in filled him with emotions too complex to process. Sadness for everything they had lost. Happiness for 3420 days of marital bliss. Rage for the thought of her moving on without him. Hope for the future.

He got out and placed the box on the porch. He knew her schedule. He had been watching. He had plenty of time to ring the doorbell and get out of sight while she made her way from her office to the door.

He sat in the car and watched as she opened the door, confused to see nobody there. Her beautiful auburn hair cascaded over her shoulders in that way he loved so much. It had always made him think of ocean waves during a beautiful vibrant sunset. The sun glistened off of her perfect, full lips. He wished he could kiss those lips one last time.

Her face lit up as she looked down and noticed the box. He watched her open the card and saw that gorgeous smile of hers spread across her face. The card was decorated with glitter glue and sequins. It was signed with the names of her favorite neighbors, the little girls down the street that she babysat when their mother was at work. It had to be from them. She would never eat anything that had come from him.

The door closed and he had no doubt about whether she would eat a slice right away. Chocolate was her favorite; she couldn't resist chocolate.

He drove to the park down the road and found their bench. This was where they would sit after every fight and talk things out. She'd always come around to see things his way. It was time to wait.

An hour passed. He was sure that by now she was crying. It wouldn't be the first time he had made her cry. Sometimes he needed to use harsh words to help her see how wrong she was.

Another hour. He used to get so annoyed when she would tell him about every single plant they saw on a walk - what was edible, what could be used for medicine, what was poison. Finally he'd found a perfect use for all of that seemingly useless information. Let's see how much she liked her precious plants now. Maybe by now she was gasping for breath. He'd seen that before when she needed to be taught a lesson. He'd put his hands around her throat until she couldn't breathe. That was the day she left. Perfect poetic justice.

Another hour. Her new love would be arriving home any moment. If she had just stayed with him, he would have never let anything like this happen to her. Everything he'd ever done to her was only to protect her. She wasn't smart enough to make her own choices. She needed him for that. Sometimes he just needed to use force to remind her. How could she ever be stupid enough to leave him?

He waited until he could hear the sirens. They made him think of the day she left. All of the rage he had felt every time a siren blared since that day would now be replaced with sheer joy. He hoped she'd thought of him as she drew her last breath.

He'd done his job; this was a birthday no one would ever forget. Chocolate was her favorite; she couldn't resist chocolate.