Chapter 3 - The Midnight Inventory
The guests finally left around eleven,
stumbling out the door with satisfied bellies.
The house was a wreck.
Stained napkins,
spilled soup,
and a mountain of dishes that looked insurmountable.
Martha yawned,
stretching her arms.
"Good job today,
Emily.
Make sure everything is spotless before you go to bed.
Oh,
and the laundry needs to be moved to the dryer."
She didn't wait for an answer.
She walked to her room,
followed by Robert.
Jessica had already disappeared into her bedroom,
likely to talk to friends about how 'exhausting' the party was.
David stayed behind for a moment.
"That was a great dinner,
babe.
Everyone was so impressed.
I'll head to bed now,
I'm exhausted from all that socializing."
He kissed my cheek,
a dry,
meaningless gesture.
"Go ahead,
David.
I'll be up soon."
I waited until I heard the click of their bedroom doors.
I waited until the house fell into that heavy,
post-party silence.
Then,
I stopped washing the dishes.
I put down the sponge.
I took off the apron and folded it neatly on the counter.
I didn't feel tired anymore.
I felt electrified.
I went to the hallway and grabbed the 'Double Happiness' sticker from the window.
I peeled it off slowly,
tearing the red paper.
It felt good.
I went to the shoe cabinet.
I took out every pair of shoes I had brought into this marriage.
I put them in a large trash bag I had hidden.
I went to the bathroom.
My skincare,
my makeup,
my toothbrush.
All gone.
I went to the bedroom.
David was snoring,
his mouth wide open.
He looked pathetic.
I opened my side of the wardrobe.
I had already thinned it out,
but now I took the rest.
Every dress,
every pair of jeans.
I didn't care about the noise;
the snoring was louder than my movements.
I reached under the bed and pulled out a small box of jewelry.
My mother's pearls.
My grandmother's ring.
The things that actually mattered.
I walked back to the kitchen.
I grabbed the salary card Martha had 'confiscated' earlier that day.
She had put it in her purse,
which she left on the dining chair.
I reached in,
found the card,
and felt the cold plastic.
But I didn't stop there.
I opened her wallet.
There was a stack of cash,
likely the money Robert had given her for the month's expenses.
I took it.
It was my payment for the twelve dishes.
It was my payment for the insults.
I went to the fridge and took out the expensive bottle of wine Uncle John had brought.
I poured it down the sink.
The red liquid swirled away,
staining the porcelain.
I looked at the notes I had written the night before.
Schedule?
Irrelevant now.
Keys?
I had mine.
I checked my watch.
One in the morning.
The world was asleep.
I took the bags to the door.
I opened it quietly,
the hinges groaning slightly.
I walked to my car,
tripping once on the gravel,
but I didn't stop.
I loaded the bags.
The trunk was full.
The backseat was full.
I went back inside one last time.
I looked at the table of half-eaten food and dirty plates.
I took a permanent marker from the drawer.
I wrote on the white tablecloth,
in big,
bold letters:
"RULES ARE FOR SERVANTS.
I AM A WOMAN."
I walked out,
closing the door with a soft click.
I didn't lock it.
May you like
Let the world in.
I didn't care anymore.
