Ad Hoc Fiction

In Too Deep
She takes a deep breath and explains it’s been going on for months, that the ticket you found in her pocket was only the latest in a run — she's seen them all, Blood Brothers, Billy Elliot, Les Mis — he appreciates theatre, unlike you. She throws out confessions like accusations: that business trip to Paris, you didn't even suspect, you don't see her as anything other than a mother. You want to hit her, or at least throw her clothes in the street, but you're in too deep, with the house and the kids and the years you aren't ready to admit you wasted, so you swallow a sob, grit your teeth, and ask what you can do to fix it.