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happened so fast, yet it was if he heard the loud
crash behind him, and saw himself turning to his wife in slow motion,
and seeing her holding the remnants of the blue rimmed plate. She held
on, her face pinched with the same confusion and anger that he himself
had felt.
Spotting the dish on the floor, he knew without much thought
that she had heard, and he knew that he had to get her to listen, he had

to try to deny the undeniable truth.
"I don't know what you heard... It's not what you think... I swear,
if you will..."
Nancy's hand shot out, causing him to stumble backwards, and
he had to steady himself by catching the door immediately behind him.
His face stung, his pride, doubly much, not to mention how much his
eyes watered, considering how hard she had hit him, and the glimpse
of his little girl, who had heard his denial, and so wounded by his words,
decided to turn and run.
All he could do was watch helplessly as Nancy walked away
from him. Somehow, unconsciously, he followed her as walked in the
dining room. Her words were low and clipped as she asked Ranger,
their son to remove himself from his seat, and go to his room, to give
them some privacy. Being so young, he had not understood, and had
first tried to argue, but, Nancy told him in no uncertain terms that she
would brook no argument on this.
Ranger nodded, doing as his mother instructed. Once the boy
disappeared, she marched toward their bedroom, three or four steps and
there she stood inside dragging out her suitcases from out of the closets.
Those suitcases that held such memories for him, the ones they used on
their honeymoon, the ones they had used for family vacations, she now
used to get as far away from him as possible.
Throwing clothes in haphazardly, she mostly ignored him, until
with a mighty heave she pushed the suitcase to the floor, and turned on
him with malice in her hazel eyes. "Do you honestly think that I would
be so blind as to believe that you did not sleep with another woman?"
Morris rubbed his chest with the ball of his hand, trying to discern
what was real and what he could possibly say to make things right again.
"I... I don't know what you want me to say.. I could never possibly
tell you..."
"Come on! Don't you think you owe me some sort of explanation?
Why?... Why the hell did you do this to me?"
He knew he should tell her everything, but, all he could so was think
of how his life had been ruined by some child that he never knew. A child
that Cheyenne had kept from him. How could she be so cruel?

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