I returned home in the evening, grateful that I managed to beat the city traffic. I opened the front door and yelled: "Honey, I'm home!" but all I got was silence.
Cathy wasn't home.
I slammed shut the door, dropped my briefcase in the living room, and went looking upstairs. Sure enough, it was empty. She had probably gone to visit a friend, or stopped by the gym. Cathy had turned into a fitness nut over the past couple of weeks for no apparent reason. Not that I had any complaints; anything to get her out of the house and out of my mind for a while was good enough for me.
I got out of my clothes and had myself a warm shower, changed into fresh pair of clothes then returned to the living room. Still no sign of Cathy. I was double-minded about whether to give her a call or not. If she was at the gym then chances are she wouldn't want to answer her phone. I figured I could wait; let her have her fitness fun while she can.
There was a DVD case lying on the centre table that I hadn't noticed when I entered. It bore a note tapped on it that stated in bold letters: HAROLD, WATCH ME! I picked up the case and opened it. A disc laid inside. Whether it was some prank on her part or not, there was only one way to tell for sure.
I switched on the DVD player and inserted the disc into the slot then sat in my favourite chair, holding the TV remote in hand which I used to switch it on.
The movie began abruptly. It was a video recording. There was Cathy sitting on a bed cross-legged in some bedroom. A frown creased my brow as seconds later it dawned on me what room she was in.
It was our fucking bedroom!
She wore her gym outfit--purple spandex blouse and short, minus her trainers; her blonde hair was tied in a bun. She sat like she was about to perform yoga while staring back at the video recorder. Staring straight at me.
"Hi, Harold," she waved. "If you're watching this DVD, then you should know I made it just for you. You're probably going to get mad about what it shows, but right now I don't fucking care. This is something I've held off from doing for a while now. Ever since I found out about your cheating habit."
She paused as if to let me soak in what she'd just said. I heard her perfectly well, and she was right. I did fuck around. Don't judge me--tell me what man who ain't? But I thought I did a fine job hiding it from her. How the fuck did she know?
As if reading my mind, she then said: "Don't worry about how I got to find out. Just know that I did. This isn't your first time doing this, but hopefully now you'll know how much it hurts. I would have forgiven you if you'd confessed to me. Since then, I've been contemplating ways on how best to repay you. A good thing I've finally found one. Oops! Excuse me."
