Is this an eternal torture I am fated to endure, a perverse punishment for my supposed deceit; a fervent mind in a lifeless vessel? “This is not justice,” I scream in my head. “I never planned to trick anyone.” All I wanted was freedom to follow the urge that beckoned from my heart. No more than any person ever wants, or deserves. Hurting Ron was no callous, calculated act; it just happened.
Soon, Jolene and Sean will return, and I am horrified that they will find me this way. A dead husband, a dead father, a stiff, contorted body riddled with gaping knife wounds at the bottom of the staircase. There could not be a more shocking discovery, right? Wrong, my friend, so wrong. I should have trusted in Jolene and my love. I should have trusted in Jolene. She would have understood had I only allowed her the chance, but now it is too late. Any chance to explain has passed, the opportunity to right my wrongs forever gone. Never will I be able to look Jolene in the eye and ease the hurt, the confusion, the anger of the woman I have always adored.
And what will Sean think, my precious little boy, when he sees his Daddy dressed in a pearl-white silk blouse and black knit skirt, opaque tights and shiny knee-high black boots? What will my little boy think of his father’s bright red lips, of his mascara-coated lashes, of his blonde wig? What will Sean think of me then? Will he ever again remember throwing the baseball around together, our annual father-son camping trip, the wrestling matches