Alice scurried down the stairs to the front door and straightened out her clothes. She hadn’t seen Andrew in two days and she was prepared for a lifetime of groveling and ass-kissing so that he would forgive her. Those days gave her insight to what she reallywanted: her husband, her home, his child. She sighed and whipped the door open, but it was not her husband waiting for her. Roman looked up from his cell phone and smiled, the bright, hypnotic smile that left many women breathless in his wake. “Hey Blackbird,” he said to his former flame. Alice stood, mouth agape, confused, excited, scared at him. He was no longer the skinny, corner thug she was madly in love with.

Andrew had to stomp on the brakes to prevent slamming into the back of the Taurus waiting at the light ahead. “Jesus…where’s your head at, partner?” Velez said, clutching the handle over him. “Sorry man, I’m just… Distracted,” Andrew said, scratching his head. “Penny for your thoughts?”
“Nah, it’s nothing.”
“Look, mano, you can’t leave stuff bottled up, especially out here. You’ll get an ulcer,” Velez said, swatting his partner’s arm. They rode farther in silence. Even though they had been partners for almost 10 years, Martin Velez knew Andrew hated sharing his personal problems and pressuring him would only make him clam up more. “You know…” Andrew started, “Alice and I have been…having problems.”
“Sort of,” Velez responded, giving his partner his undivided attention. “I don’t know. It’s just… After she got that promotion, she just… Hasn’t been around,” Andrew said, attempting to be vague. “Have you talked to…

The neighborhood hadn’t changed, except for being buoyant and lively, many of the homes were empty shells of their former glory. Roman stopped his car in front of one of the lots, few signs of a house’s existence there. He put the car in park on the curb and got out. He stuck his hands into his pockets and stared. So much history on this very spot. He’d been gone long enough and he was back to claim what was his.

Even with her music blaring, Desi could still ear Brian milling about her flat. He had been over every night for the past week and he was driving her crazy. She sat and stared at the blank canvass as she listened to him bop around the kitchen. He whistled along to “Pretty Brown Eyes” as he chopped the ingredients for his smoothie. Desi rubbed her forehead in disdain, trying to force an image out of her head. She needed to work. The blender started an ear-splitting grinding, drowning out the music overhead. Desi exclaimed out loud and threw down her paint brush. Hearing the commotion, Brian silenced the blender and the music. “You say something, babe?” he asked, looking across the room. Desi’s back was to him but he could still see her, holding her head. He rounded the kitchen island and strode across the room. He put his hands…

Except she wasn’t asleep.

Alice lay in the bed still as she could, careful not to stir her snoring husband. The sun crept slowly into their bedroom before she slipped from the covers. She showered and dressed quickly: stockings, dress, blazer, an ensemble she chose with great care the night before. She wanted to look good. She applied her makeup carefully as she stared at her visage in the mirror: she was beautiful, but her eyes gave away the emptiness that resonated in her