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  “This isn’t my bra,” I mumble to myself. My blood starts to boil. Well hold on, I think to myself. Could this be Kara’s or Drey’s? We do change into our workout clothes here sometimes before we go to Zumba. I examine the bra and know for certain that Kara would never wear anything this flashy. She is definitely the type of person who wears nude colored undergarments and thinks that her matching baby pink set is sexy. Drey thinks that rhinestones are tacky and she doesn’t usually put too much thought into her bra choice either. She says that she never has one on long enough to spend money on and this definitely looks expensive. This only leaves one option.

  I am so furious I can’t move. I stand by the plant holding the disgusting thing in my hands for a few minutes until I compose myself enough to move back to the kitchen. I put the bra on the bar and refill my glass of wine. I stand there and drink until every drop is gone and then I pour another.

  I stand this way for what seems like hours but I think it really has only been 35 minutes. Halfway through my third glass, I hear the front door open. I jump and slop wine all down the front of my dress. Mason comes in and shakes the water from his hair. From the looks of his soaked jacket, I know that he has been outside for awhile. My face flushes and anger courses through my veins just looking at him. The normal hatred I feel for him is magnified by a hundred and I feel like I am about to explode.

  “Hello, Mason,” I say icily.

  2. Never Waste Wine

  Mason looks up once he hears the anger in my voice. I can see his eyes move from me to the bra on the counter and back to me. He pauses for a moment, our eyes locked and then he moves to take off his jacket.

  “Hey,” he sighs and starts to walk towards his bedroom.

  “Oh, so you’re going to ignore me? But we have so much to talk about,” I say in my sweetest voice. I see him hesitate for a minute and then he turns around and paces towards the bar until he is on the other side of it, but not too close. He’s smart to keep his distance.

  “What do you want to talk about?” he says in a bland voice. I am shocked at his response.

  “Just the weather, or your day, or maybe the fact that you brought a bimbo into our house and slept with her!” I scream the last words holding up the bra. Mason gives me a half smile but his eyes are menacing.

  “It isn’t what it looks like. Why do you care anyways? We haven’t talked in months. It’s like we aren’t even married.”

  “But we are married,” I hiss trying to control my temper and failing miserably. “And you brought a wench into our home.”

  “You’re just jealous it wasn’t you,” he says looking smug, still smiling. That was all it took and the dam broke. I pick up the only thing in front of me, the bottle of Merlot. Adrenaline rocks through my body and with all the force I can manage, I cock the bottle behind me and swing as hard as I can, releasing it into the air. I have horrible aim but I aimed for his head. What I didn’t expect was that it would actually hit it’s target. It wasn’t that my aim improved over night. It was that Mason ducked to avoid the bottle hoping it would sail over him. It would have hit his torso if he hadn’t ducked…but he did.

  The bottle connects with the side of Mason’s head and wine flies out in every direction. For a split second, we stand staring at each other, wine falling all around us, filling the air with it’s slightly floral aroma. The next moment, Mason crumples to the ground.

  Joy is the new emotion making its way into my head. Maybe he’s dead, I think and I smile to myself. I am so angry at him that he should wish he is dead because if not, I am going to torture him. Oh, what I could do to him.

  After my little fantasy subsides, reality sets in. “Shit, shit, shit!” I whisper to myself as I walk over and see him laying unconscious covered in maroon liquid. For a second, I am a little annoyed that I wasted all that wine, but then I get back to the problem at hand. I need to do something with him but I don’t know what. I’m not thinking clearly. I try to grab his arms and drag him out of the puddle but he doesn’t budge. The only thing I can think to do is call Scott and Kara. They will know what to do.

  “Lucy, Kara is out for the night. I don’t know what you girls were up to but-“I cut Scott off before he can finish his joking comment. Since when does he answer her phone?

  “Scott, I need your help,” I sputter through my numb lips. The event that just unfolded in front of my eyes was definitely sobering but it didn’t seem to take away all my drunken symptoms. “You need to get here now.”

  “I’ll be right there,” he says picking up on the panic and urgency in my voice.

  I hang up the phone and stare at my husband lying helplessly on the floor smelling of fermented grapes. Unexpectedly, guilt overwhelms me. What were you thinking? I reprimand myself. He might be dead and you might be going to jail! I should probably check to see if he is breathing.

  I crouch down and put my fingers against his neck like they teach you to do in P.E. to check your heart rate. I can feel his blood pulse. I move my hand in front of his nose and I can feel his breath against my skin. A mix of disappointment and relief cloud my head.

  I stand back and survey the mess I have created. There is wine all over the kitchen and into the living room. While I’m assessing the damage, I spy the bra and feel a pain I haven’t felt in awhile. I think I feel hurt. It’s a definite sign that our decade long relationship is over.

  Scott comes running through the door with Kara right behind him. I guess Mason forgot to lock it when he came in.

  “Lucy what happened?” Kara asks holding her hand over her mouth as she sees Mason sprawled out on the floor. Scott is lifting Mason under the arms and dragging him out the front door. Man, he’s quick to respond. I think I stared at Mason for at least a minute before I even touched him. Maybe the difference is that Scott actually cares if his friend lives or dies. Not that I want him to die. That sounds too harsh. Maybe I just want Karma to kick him in the ass.

  I hold up the red bra and Kara immediately knows what happened. “Lucy, I am so sorry,” she says giving me a hug. She pulls away from me and sniffs the air. “Why is there wine all over everything?”

  “The bottle was open when I threw it at him and it went everywhere. Such a waste,” I say smiling now. Kara tries to hold back her smile but fails.

  “Well, I guess he had it coming. Come on, let’s go,” she says as she pulls my hand through the door. She stumbles a little on the front steps and I remember that she is still drunk.

  “Kara, you can go home if you want. There is no way you could feel up to this right now.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I’m not leaving your side. I’m fine,” she says and I am immediately grateful that I have her help through all of this. She doesn’t even care that this is my fault. She will support me through anything.

  “He will be fine, Lucy. I’m not quite sure when he will wake up but it shouldn’t be too long,” Dr. Karl Carter says. He is one of our neighbors and he knows about our rocky relationship. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that Mason already did wake up once in the car. I was in the backseat with him and he started mumbling. I screamed ‘stop!’ and Scott slammed on the breaks. Mason flew forward, hit his head on the seat in front of him, and then slumped over again. I guess I forgot to put on his seatbelt. “He was covered in wine. Do you have something to tell me? Did he really fall down the stairs?” he asks me suspiciously.

  “Yup,” I say and I smile a big fake grin. We don’t even have stairs in our house, just the two out front and he knows this. He has been to our house many times.

  “Lucy, I’m not getting in the middle of this but if you had anything to do with this incident, then it’s partly your responsibility to help him get through this.”

  “Get him through what? He’ll wake up and be fine right?”

  Dr. Carter hesitates for a moment like he is struggling with his words. “Mason woke up for a minute and he didn’t remember who I was. He didn’t know what year it is or who the President is. He has amnesia
and I’m not sure how severe it is yet. My guess is that he will have his memory back in a few weeks.”

  “A few weeks?!” I scream.

  “Yes, and I expect that you will help him make a full recovery.” Oh, no. This is so bad.

  “What do I have to do?”

  “Well, there really isn’t a cure for this type of thing but we have found that certain past memories will trigger the brain making all the memories come back.”

  “So, can I just show him some old pictures or something? I am too busy at work to be babysitting him.”

  “Lucy, you got yourself into this mess and I’m sure whatever Mason did, he deserves this, but you have to help him. I would suggest doing things you used to do as a couple. Go to restaurants that you frequent, or go on a vacation that you guys enjoyed. I once had a woman who reenacted their wedding day and that brought back his memory completely. Do whatever you have to do.” Karl pats my shoulder and walks out of the waiting room doors.

  “What are you going to do, Lucy?” Kara asks putting her arm around my shoulder.

  “I am going to do exactly what Karl says. I am going to reenact our previous life. Whatever it takes to get his memory back as fast as possible,” I say trying to think of how much time I will have to take off from work.

  “Lucy Harper?” the nurse calls.

  “That’s me.”

  “Your husband is awake,” she says in an agitated tone. “I don’t know if it is his memory loss or if he is always a pervert but he’s a handful,” she says shaking her head. Kara and I follow her down a very sterile looking hall to Mason’s room. Scott took a cab home since he has to work early in the morning so we are on our own. We have been at the hospital for hours so Kara is okay to drive us home now.

  When we walk in his room, he is sitting on the bed staring at the TV, completely dressed. I notice he has a goosegg on his forehead that is turning redder by the minute.

  “Your wife is here. You are free to leave whenever,” the nurse says and then darts out of the room. I think I hear her mutter something like “the sooner the better” as she passes me. I’m glad I’m not the only one who finds him repulsive.

  Mason does a double take as he looks at me. Fear glints across his eyes for a second and then confusion. Phew! He doesn’t remember that I was his attacker. Kara notices his reaction and tries to hide her smile with her hand.

  “Hi, I’m Lucy, your wife,” I say walking towards his bed. “Do you remember me?”

  He looks at me for a few seconds and then his face splits into a grin. “No, but I’d like to get to know you. Do you want to go get some drinks?” he says raising his eyebrows at me in a suggestive manner.

  “Ok, I can’t handle this,” I say throwing my hands up in the air in defeat. I turn to walk out of the room but Kara grabs my arm.

  “Lucy, you don’t have a choice,” she says whirling me around to face his bed. He is still grinning. I take a deep breath and take a couple of slow steps in his direction.

  “Listen, Mason,” I say a little on the bitchy side.

  “Lucy,” Kara says accusingly.

  I adjust my tone. “We should get you home. It’s late.” I decide short sentences are best. They don’t give me enough time to get too worked up.

  “Wow, that was easy. I didn’t even have to buy you dinner and you are already inviting me back to your house,” Mason says like he just won the lottery. I close my eyes and grind my teeth trying to keep my temper from flaring.

  “Hi, Mason, I’m Kara, Lucy’s friend,” she says stepping around me, cutting off contact between me and Mason. “Let’s get you home.” She grabs his arm and ushers him out of the room. I am too angry to move my feet so I just stand there for a moment.

  I catch up to them just in time to hear him say “Wow, I get to take two women home!” This is a nightmare. I am being punished and I’m not even the one who cheated. So not fair.

  We get Mason in the car and luckily, he passes out, snoring loudly.

  By the time we get home, it is 3 a.m. Kara drops us off so I am now all alone with my over flirtatious husband that I despise. And to top it off, he barely remembers his own name. He actually didn’t remember his name. He kept calling himself Fabio while he was asleep on the drive home.

  I watch Kara drive away and visibly shrink. I can’t handle this. I guess I should rephrase that. I don’t want to handle this.

  I watch Mason adjust to things around the house. Luckily he remembers core functions of what a human does like to open a door you have to have a key and you lift the lid on the toilet so you don’t piss all over the seat. This makes him only slightly easier to take care of than a puppy. However, I would much rather take care of a puppy than deal with this dog.

  I set my purse down and take my shoes off leaving Mason to explore the house. I start to clean up the wine that is all over the floor. After every drop is cleaned up, I wash my sticky hands and realize that he has disappeared.

  “Mason? Where are you?” I yell through the house. I hear rustling coming from my bedroom. I open the door and I see him striping down to his black boxer briefs and climbing in my bed. “Oooh no you don’t.” He looks at me bewildered. I swallow trying to regain my composure. It has been a long time since I have seen him this naked and he really does look good. “You sleep in the guest bedroom. You haven’t slept in here for months.”

  He pauses for a second with one leg suspended above my sheets. “So let me get this straight,” he starts looking baffled. “We are married but we sleep in separate bedrooms?”

  “Yes,” I say as if I see nothing wrong with that arrangement.

  “So then where do we have sex?” he asks, a big mischievous smile stretching across his face.

  “We don’t!” I say a little louder and faster than I expected but I think I get the point across. Plus when we did have sex it was rarely in the bedroom, but he doesn’t need to know that. Confusion crosses Mason’s face but his smile never fades.

  “I think I have a lot to learn,” he says climbing off the bed and walking past me, purposefully brushing against my shoulder. I close my eyes to control my hatred towards him, and maybe so I don’t get a close up view of his body. As he passes me, he slaps me on the butt. Before I can get over the shock, he is already in the spare bedroom with the door closed.

  “Aaahhh!” I scream through clenched teeth. If I wasn’t so tired I would run right into his room and slap him across the face. Instead, I fight the urge and crawl into bed not even bothering to take my jewelry off. I am out like a light which means I don’t have time to think of the huge problem I have to deal with.

  “So, I have been thinking about things, and you don’t have to play nice,” Drey says sipping her iced tea. We decided to have lunch at our favorite place, Marvin’s. They have the best potato soup and Caesar salads.

  “What do you mean play nice? This isn’t a game,” I say stirring crackers into my steaming bowl of soup.

  “Why can’t it be?”

  “Because Mason is a human being and has feelings?” Kara says and I nod in agreement. I like to refer to him as an animal but I guess human works for today.

  “You can’t honestly believe that just because he lost his memory that he turned into a good guy,” Drey says shaking her head in disbelief.

  “Mason has always been a good guy. He is just a little over the top and maybe just not the right guy for Lucy anymore,” Kara chimes in.

  “So what is your plan then?” Drey asks looking at me.

  “Well, I’m not exactly sure. Believe me, I want him back to normal as soon as possible so we can start talking divorce again and I can get back to focusing on work.”

  “Okay, but if you want my opinion-“

  “I don’t but I’m sure you will tell me what you think anyway,” I smirk cutting her off. Kara laughs to herself and Drey rolls her eyes.

  “What I was going to say was that I think you should reenact your wedding like Karl said. It should help bring his memory back and I c
ould really use another trip to Mexico. It’s a win-win.”

  “I will think about it,” I sigh. “I have to go into work,” I say as I check my phone and realize I have an inbox full of emails. I throw some money down and I hear a ‘plop’ sound. “Oops.” Drey’s brows are furrowed and Kara is laughing. When I flung the cash out of my wallet, a penny flew out of my ten dollar bill and landed right in Drey’s iced tea. “Sorry about that. You might want to get a new drink,” I say as I dash away towards the exit. I hear them mumbling something about how working on a Saturday shouldn’t be allowed but I ignore them. When I look back, Kara is still laughing and Drey is shaking her head. I can’t help but laugh too. I couldn’t do that again if I tried.

  I make myself busy at the office and I am glad that no one is there to distract me. I work a lot of Saturdays but usually only for like an hour or so and I can usually do it from home. Today though, I want any excuse I can get to get out of the house and away from Mason.

  I can’t help but feel slightly bad for what I did especially since he has a huge bruise on his forehead from where the bottle made contact. The bump is barely visible today though. He also has a scratch above his eye from hitting the seat in the car. Drey insists that he deserves every bit of what he got but it is still hard for me to digest. I can’t be around him. It’s too depressing.

  I did everything I could at the office today and only managed to spend three hours there. All my files are organized and color coordinated, I sent out all of the emails I could, and then I cleaned my office. I did have a couple of weird emails from my family and a coworker. They just said things like ‘thanks for the laugh’ and ‘I don’t think this was meant for me’ but I just ignored them because I had no idea what they were talking about.