Bill had an extended affair during the pandemic that ended his 14 year marriage. He loved his wife, Angela, dearly and now listens to a particular song during his drive home from work to spend time with her. The singer seems to understand. The melody is melancholic and beautiful and from the first note immediately puts him in a place of deep longing. It’s a happy kind of sadness, four minutes with his once best friend.
When Bill told his closest friends of his affair they told him to fuck off. They loved Angela and her infinite kindness. His immediate family was also devastated. The sun and the birds became his listening ear. Music became the otherwise elusive embrace.
The sun and the birds became his listening ear. Music became the otherwise elusive embrace.
Dating is Bill’s karma. He’s dated some in the past couple of years. He’s honest about his affair but his dates immediately lose interest upon hearing about it. He’s got to be honest, but if he is, things end. The price of fucking up.
Bill misses his former in-laws and is worried he won’t see them again . Ever. He wrote a thank you letter to them on a beautiful card but Angela said it would be too painful for her dad to read it. It sits on Bill’s dining room table.
Marrying Angela was, according to Bill, the best decision he had made in his life. “Just because a marriage ends, doesn’t mean it wasn’t a success, does it?” he asks himself.
Bill is sheepish to admit that he goes to the Target in his old neighborhood hoping he’ll run into Angela. Once he bumped into her at the lake, and at least for a moment, she smiled. Until she remembered.
Bill used to watch the Vikings religiously with his wife. She cooked for him on game day, and it was gourmet. She always invited his friends. Now, after a big win, he wonders if Angela misses him, even for a moment. His friends miss her brilliant cooking more than a little.
Now, after a big win, he wonders if Angela misses him, even for a moment.
Recently, as Bill left his room to check out of a Fort Lauderdale hotel, he could hear his mom’s voice in his head: “Check under the beds, kids!” This is what she would say at checkout time during wonderful childhood trips to Colorado, Norway, and Mexico. If she had been alive, Bill would never have cheated. The loving bond between Angela and his mother was profound and precious.
Whenever Bill suggested happy hour to his mom, even toward the end of her life when mere breathing was a challenge, she would always agree to go. but she inevitably had a follow up question: “Will Angela be there?” she’d ask with the eagerness of a small child. It would have killed her to find out what Bill had done, and, despite her love of the Lord, she would have killed him, too.
15 years ago, Bill and Angela walked into a Mediterranean restaurant far from the entertainment zone and Angela suggested that Bill’s salsa band play there on Saturdays. Bill was very doubtful it would draw but approached the owner anyway. The owner was skeptical, too.
15 years later, Angela was right. The owner gave Bill’s band the month of August and the salsa night has lit up the sleepy suburban sky every Saturday for 15 years, local orchestras bringing joy to diverse crowds of Latin music fanatics. A local newspaper even wrote about it.
Since the divorce, Angela comes to the event to dance once in a while with friends. When she does, she and Bill kindly but awkwardly greet each other. At 3am he drives home listening to the music they discovered together with a sad smile often uttering to the starry sky, “she didn’t have to come. She chose to.”
…she didn’t have to come. She chose to.