I looked at him standing in my line of vision; I kept my eyes trained on him. I swear I had steam coming out of my ears that’s just how mad I was. I saw blood, lots and lots of blood and not a single drop in that ocean was mine. I looked up to heaven in a plea for patience but heaven had nothing for me. In my reverie I could hear them pleading "Marie please listen", "Marie babe I can explain’’. I was far too gone to listen to any of that. I rustled through the tic tacs in my handbag to find my never been used gun, Ok you might be wondering why I might possess it in the first place. I'm not in the mafia or anything of that sort, I don't deal any kind of illegal business, but ironically had gotten it on Marx my husband’s prompting that I had gotten it after two consecutive late nights at the office.

 I pointed the gun at my pathetic soon to be ex-husband who gasped shooting his hands up, so fast the towel covering him fell to the floor, leaving his naked bits unprotected, It could have been seriously amusing had I not been mad I would have laughed. This particular incident did nothing for my funny bone though, my husband of four years was right there in front of me not a stitch graced his body and to his left stood, my one and only little sister Angel draped in a sheet to cover up her shame. Said little sister is my current good deed of the year. I took her in when everyone else had given up on her, my grandmother had made me take her in saying maybe my place would provide the new start she needed.

 Honestly I love that lady so much and can do anything for her so I took Angie in. Now it seemed as if Dear-ol’-Marxie was just the new start baby girl needed, how was I supposed to react except to whip out ol’ faithful?. " Marie.... Babe... Drop down the gun and....." before he could finish the sentence I gave him a colder than the Arctic stare. I counted to ten and backwards but it wasn't helping much. All I could think of was how fast I can get out of the country after I kill them both and how much It would cost to get a new identity. Yea I was on some Bourne shit right here. I inhaled and exhaled again till I felt a slight burn in my lungs, I clutched the gun tighter with both hands strengthening my resolve to shoot.

If prison was Orange Is the New Black I would survive right?. The trick was in keeping your head down and doing your time right?. It is that train of thought that eventually had me slowly lowering it then finally retracting the loaded gun and walked towards the door. I guess they both got the message because as soon as the door closed they scurried around like rats at lights on. Ooh did I mention that they were going at it in my marital bed?. So please pardon me for I do get to reserve the rights to be stark raving mad. I've had a long and rather disappointing day at work and I get home to this bullshit. How the hell am I supposed to react to that?. I was ready to kick, punch, claw, rip and burn but I could not allow myself to show any emotions.

 By the time my soon to be ex-husband and ex-sister came out I had stopped pacing like an incarcerated beast and had adopted a deceptively calm veneer that was as much a façade as my seeming will to discuss this like adults. Wait a minute is there anything like ex-sister, whatever I just know there is going to be a lot of ex-ing tonight. I sat down coolly looking all business like, legs crossed and a stiff glass of scotch in my hand. I know I looked hot and scary while at it, what can I say I got good genes. This is so not the time to be bragging about my gene pool (clears throat). I pinched myself inwardly to the totally serious issue at hand. The best way to crack someone up, I have learnt over the years, is not interrogation but silence. Angel couldn't stop fidgeting with the shirt cuffs. She really pulled off the boyfriend look in the YSL shirt I bought Marx. I bet she realized the little error because she flinched looked at me opening and closing her mouth like a halibut out of water all I did was arch one perfectly trimmed brow.

Unable to take the silence any more one of them was bound to crack up. I figured the fidgeting, awkward glances around the room and the sudden fascination with the carpeted floor could only go so far. Sure as a nun’s period one of them did blurt out…

"Marie please say something" Angel's pleading voice came.

Figures, Little girl was swimming with sharks yet her place was clearly in a bowl besides a little boy's bed. Marx finally got pissed by my silence and yelled.

"Marie got-damnit say fucking something for crying out loud" guess Marx knows attack is the best form of defence.

" Just fucking do something already, do you have to be so fucking cold?..." He kept yelling, I really would want to tell you the rest of what he was saying but I zoned out at the first words. This so isn't how I envisioned my Friday night to be like. I yawned as Marx kept rumbling on and on about how Angel made him and i quote "feel like a man" and how I don't "let him be a man". Shame poor Marxie needed to be “let” be a man, guess his Dad never sat down with him to tell him, No one “lets” you be anything, you just be and if they are not ok with it they had to bend to fit your edges. I looked at his ruddy face it seemed as if he was just about ready to pop a baby from the bulging vein on his forehead. I pulled out my work case and undid the latch. I hid an amused smile as Marx and Angie jumped at the sound of the latch Th.ey were rightfully afraid, as hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, worse of all, one who had a gun and a Scotch. Wish it was something totally hard-core, like if I just started to assemble a freaking high-tech machine gun or what, that would be totally have been cool.

 I pulled out some papers laid them on the table. For the first time since I got home I spoke up I cleared my throat and said in a curt business tone

"Sign here, here and here".

Marx had the gall to look hurt "Divorce papers Marie?".

Marx looked at me as if studying  my reaction or waiting for an explanation but I sure as hell was not going to offer any. Instead I stood up, sashayed putting a little bit extra swing in my hips and took a few steps then, turned and said to them…

"I hope there will be no one when I get back here, oh and this time I won't hesitate to use the gun". I heard them plead, throw insults and make threats as I walked the now somehow extended walk towards the exit. The balmy summer air hit me along with the evening's events. This just didn’t happen to me, I squeezed my eyes shut willing it all away but reality was a sadist and she Mayweather punched me square in the face. I sat in my car and every emotion I had somehow so successfully held in check, came out cascading through my eyes.