The Peculiar Prelude

I should have noticed the peculiar prelude.  Mark never cooked dinner.  "I give in!  You're leaving tomorrow, but tonight let's make peace.  I made dinner for us – a sign of our amicable separating," he explained.

I had no suspicions.  Why should I?  Yes, Mark's affairs were finally too much for me to handle, and though he was not happy about it at first, it seemed he finally was accepting our pending separation and divorce. 

Mark was never violent, just couldn't keep himself to just one woman . . . or to my chagrin, one man either.  My heart had been broken too many times, and it was finally over.  I was leaving for Texas the next morning, back home to my family.  I decided to wait until after I got home to tell my family why I was coming.  I just could not imagine telling them all the affairs I had put up with.  I was especially unsure how some family members would handle the news that it was not just women Mark had affairs with.

"Have some wine," he instructed kindly, as he handed me a glass of a dark red wine.  I swooshed the glass around and got a whiff of the fruity delight within, then gladly took a sip.  Mark was always good at choosing wine.  I would miss that. 

We then went to the dinner table where he had plated a very tasty looking meal.  Steaks grilled on the barbecue, baked potatoes, and a tossed salad.  I was impressed.  It figures he would learn how to cook on the night before I leave.

Our discussion during the meal was pleasant.  It reminded me why I had married Mark.  He was a charming, funny, loving man.  We talked about the good times.  "Remember the trip to St. Thomas?  How we danced to the steel drum band at sunset, then went to the beach and made love?" Mark asked.

I smiled.  "Yes, that was a great night.  The music was so loud, and we were so close.  It was wonderful."

He reached out his hand to touch mine.  "We could have that again Molly, you know."

"Mark, no.  I'm sorry, but it just hurts too much.  You've tried to change, but you can't.  I can't live through that hurt again.  I love you, but you don't know how to control yourself.  Not only do you hurt me, but you also put our lives in danger with your casual sex with strangers.  I can't handle it anymore.  I have to get out."  Tears were streaming down my cheeks by now, blurring my vision.

I saw Mark reach into his shirt pocket.  I assumed it was to offer me his handkerchief.  "Then you give me no choice."  His voice had changed, and it shocked me.  Before I could react I felt the sting of a needle pushed into my left arm, and the coursing of cool liquid entering my body.  "It's Pancuronium bromide – a paralytic drug.  It will take a minute to take full effect, but then your body will be fully paralyzed and unable to move.  Don't worry though – it only lasts about 40 minutes."

Marks face was close to mine and he had me pinned in the chair.  I was in shock, trying to take in what he was saying.  Surely he was joking.  Surely he had not stolen drugs from his work at the hospital to paralyze me?  And for 40 minutes?  Why?

"Oh yes, I forgot." Marks voice had taken on a menacing tone.  The man staring at me was not my husband.  "It also causes respiratory depression, and you most likely won't last forty minutes without the aid of oxygen.  It will be enough time for a trip to the lake though.  And you won't give me any arguments."

I was panicking as I felt my muscles melt into the chair.  I wanted to scream but could not find my voice.  I could breathe, but just barely, and was locked in a stoic stare.  Mark picked me up and threw me over his shoulder, then carried me out to the car.  He belted me in the front passenger seat, then got in the driver's side and started the car.

"Molly, you should have changed your mind.  I hate to do this to you, but if I can't have you, no one can.  And I also couldn't have you going off and telling everyone that I am bisexual.  We had a perfect family Molly, and you've ruined it now." 

There was a loud crash of thunder, and rain began falling.  My body wanted to react to the startling sound, but only my mind could react.  I was sure I must have been dreaming.  I could see clearly the cars passing by, but could not move to try to make anyone aware of what was happening.  My breathing was becoming more shallow and difficult, but I could still see and hear everything around me. 

"I know you have given me chances Molly, but you should have been willing to keep trying.  You were going to just leave me alone.  I didn't want it to be this way, Molly.  Bad things happened to me when I was a kid.  My Dad did horrible things to me, and Mom left me too.  Just like you were going to.  I can't have that happen again Molly."

I felt the car come to a stop and heard Mark get out of the car.  I then heard the door open on my side and Mark lifted me out of the car.  He carried me down to a dock where a boat was waiting.  He laid me in the boat, got in, and drove out to the center of the lake.

"I'm messed up Molly.  I'm sorry for what I've done to you.  I can't live without you though."  With that, Mark placed one side of a pair of handcuffs on his wrist, and the other on mine.  I could see him reach into his pocket and pull out another syringe.  He carefully injected himself, then quickly picked me up.  "I love you," he said as he jumped overboard.

Mark's weight pulled me down toward the bottom of the lake quickly.  I could not struggle to prevent the water from entering my lungs.  I could see Mark struggling though, then he quieted.  We hit bottom, laying side by side, my legs atop his.