Old Barn at Midnight

The old barn looms like an apparition at the end of the dusty road knotting her stomach even tighter as she walks shrouded from the summer moonlight. “Meet me at the old barn at midnight,” the text had said, flashing across her husband’s phone only 2 hours earlier as she slid his work polo on a hanger wondering why her husband’s secretary, two years shy from being half his age, was texting him at this hour. She stood in the bedroom they had shared for the past eight years, one hand on the hanger, the other on his collar, still as a statue, as if one movement would open the gates of hurt to flood in until from the next room she heard the shower turn off. Spell now broken; she resolved to keep her feelings tucked inside, not letting anything give away the fact that she saw the incriminating text.

She listened to his work stories on autopilot as she pulled the roast from the oven. As she chopped fresh vegetables for a salad, she watched him pick up his phone and text. And as he did, a machete cleaved her heart in half, sending an ocean of torment into her gut, as she managed with superhuman strength to put a mask on her face to hide the emotions warring inside of her heart.

Knives scraped against the plates as her boys argued over which was scarier, zombies or vampires, as she placidly nodded along wearing the mask of domestic bliss as a plan began to formulate in her mind. Settled on what she would do, she smiled with numb lips, the food her husband was warmly complimenting her with tasting like dust on her tongue as she tried to stop the question of why is she not enough from flashing across her mind.

Feigning sleep, with a closed novel across her chest and a drained wine glass on the side table next to her, her disloyal husband kissed her forehead before retreating down the stairs to his man cave in the basement. A storm of bile rose, and her limbs went numb as she processed how she had been going to bed earlier, leaving him in the basement with a door that led to their backyard with a tree-lined path that led to the old barn.

As she reached the silent, dusty old barn and lifted her phone to read the time on the illuminated face, she recalled shaking hands that could not unlock her husband’s phone as he dipped outside to take the bag of trash out after dinner. For that was the moment her plan became cemented, she had to witness a traitorous act for herself before she could feel the pain and shame.

Climbing the rickety ladder to the hayloft as shards cut her chest with thoughts of her boys nestled in the game room at home, oblivious to the torment in their mother’s heart. Dipping behind a dilapidated wall, she peeked through where a giant chip of wood was missing and realized it gave her an unobstructed view of the barn floor.

She shivered as a balmy evening breeze caressed her nervous skin, and she jumped when an owl hooted nearby. Crickets chirped as the seconds ticked to her husband and his thin secretary’s arrival.

Stewing in self-pity, she felt her emotions war inside of her with anger, disbelief, and dejection, fighting and tangling together until they became a chaotic mess carving a deep valley of hurt. Attempting to calm herself, she tried to focus on logical reasons why they could be meeting in this old barn at midnight, but every reason seemed more absurd than the last. It could be a work thing; she tried to convince herself as her hollow heart attempted to grasp a flimsy excuse that was better than the unfortunate truth that her husband was having an affair.

Nine minutes before midnight, she saw the glow of a phone, and her body went rigid as her heart thundered loud enough to give away her hiding spot. Looking below, she watched the pretty blonde walk into the aging barn adding a splash of color to the dirt and dust surrounded by her. Wearing a short, bright pink dress with colorful flip flops, the wife watched the secretary eagerly typing on her phone as her blonde hair shimmered in the moonlight.

Sloppy ponytail shoved into a baseball cap and baggy black t-shirt dripping off her body, the wife looked down and tasted the bile of jealousy and shame at once. Tears welled in her eyes as each breath was a spasm of pain, as her mind came to the knowledge that her husband would pick new and shiny over his fading wife.

“Madison!” Her husband’s voice sounded young and transported her back to the days of new love when the handsome medical student had fallen for her. The young woman squealed and jumped in his arms as he effortlessly handled the additional weight as their lips joined. Tears formed a river down her face as she recalled being the woman who once had been the sole receiver of his kisses. She slapped both hands across her face and sunk back into the gloomy hayloft as her heart shattered with the unbearable pain she could feel in every inch of her body. She cried as she recalled how they had once loved each other, staying up until 4 am alternating between conversation and lovemaking. The joy they had felt the day she had walked down the aisle of her childhood church radiant in white lace. The day their first son was born, her husband cried with a huge smile on his face telling her how he had never been so proud of his strong, beautiful wife. Holding hands as they walked inside the dream home they had built and how he had picked her up as the boys looked on giggling that daddy was carrying mommy.

Madison giggled below, breaking the last of her goodwill. She began to use her hands, not caring what she touched as she searched the floors of the hayloft. When her hands circled the hardwood of a baseball bat, she knew that she would never again wear the mask of domestic bliss.

Jumping down with crazed eyes, she let out a beast’s roar of pain and anger as she gripped the baseball bat. She felt satisfaction as Madison screamed in reply with terror-filled eyes, her mouth stretching as she grabbed her husband’s arm, who roughly pushed her behind her.

He opened his mouth to speak, thinking that he knew her and knew what was inside her heart, thinking he could appeal to her using their boys to ground her. He didn’t know her, or he wouldn’t have come to this ancient barn where they had first made love in the hayloft all those years ago. He would remember that he promised her that he would never hurt her as she lay on his chest afterward, small beads of sweat between them, as she believed every word he had told her. Now, she regarded each and everything he had told her as falsehoods.

She swung, thinking of nothing but the pain erasing every good memory they had shared over the years. And she swung again as she heard Madison's feral scream blocking out her husband's pleas to drop the bat. And she swung, as he lifted his hands in defense, showcasing the gold band they had picked out on a snowy afternoon at the jewelers, and she wondered when he stopped taking his vows as solemnly as she did. And she swung, watching her husband crumple, hoping the pain he was feeling was a match to what she was feeling inside. And she swung, hitting Madison as she tried to grab her arms, sending the young woman to the ground with a howl of pain. And she swung, watching crimson seep into the dirt of the old barn. And she swung until the only sound was her heavy breathing. And she swung until her heart was the only one left beating.

She had entered the old barn as a devoted but suspicious wife who believed that love could conquer everything. She exited the old barn, like a comic book zombie, devoid of thoughts and feelings, dragging a bloody bat behind her.