The Way Through – Canadian collection of short stories

Well, it’s happened. I am a published author! My short story has been picked to be printed in Polar Expressions yearly book publication and I couldn’t be happier! After years of self-sabotage and writer’s block, my dream finally came true. I am truly elated. I want to share it with you now:

Regina’s Deception

After a long day at the office, there was nothing better than coming home to my beautiful wife, Regina. She was a stunning Italian woman with long, beautiful chestnut hair and glowing olive-coloured skin. 

As I drove down Downing Lane, I glanced over at the bouquet of white roses and the box of Laura Secord chocolates on the passenger seat. It was our twenty-fifth anniversary. I left the office early, so I could spend as much time with Regina as possible and made a pit stop at Fleur’s Flowers to pick the most elegant flower bouquet I could find before heading to get her favourite chocolates. 

The sun was shining brightly as I turned onto Stanley Avenue, our large, four-bedroom brick house coming into view at the end of the street. My heart thumped hard in my chest as I parked in the driveway. After twenty-five years of marriage, Regina could still get my blood pumping with the little black dress she was bound to be wearing. I didn’t bother locking the vehicle as we were set to go to the movies shortly and headed up the stone path. 

As I neared the house, I heard a voice—a man’s voice. This was nothing new as Regina frequently had her brother and his boyfriend over coffee. Yet, this was different. The voices were whispering urgently. These were voices that did not want to be overheard. I walked quietly to the front door, the voices becoming louder.

“Austin will be home soon,” Regina said urgently.

“So?” said a gruff, familiar voice, “When are you going to tell him?”

“Soon, sweetie. But not now.”

“You’ve been saying ‘soon’ for far too long, Gina. I hate being so secretive when we’re clearly right for each other.”

My heart was beating fast, pounding hard against my chest but not for the same reason as before. I could feel my life crumbling around me. Should I confront her? Or leave now and cut my losses? Then, my hand was on the doorknob, shaking violently. I made up my mind. 

I shoved the door open hard, and it slammed against the wall, knocking a little table over. There stood Regina in the little black dress she had always sported for me, and sitting in front of her, totally naked on the couch, was my brother. Regina gave a little scream as I approached, but Sam sat rooted to the spot as I marched up to him.

“How could you? You fucking bastard!” I screamed, my head swimming. My own brother? My own brother fucking my wife?

“I-I . . . it’s not what you think!” Sam sputtered, standing and covering himself with both hands.

“You are fucking naked in my house, on my couch, with my wife. What the fuck am I supposed to think?” I said, still screaming. I couldn’t think straight. All I wanted to do was hurt Sam—hurt him like he was hurting me. Without thinking, I grabbed the table lamp beside the couch and brought it down hard and fast on Sam’s head. He gave a little grunt of pain and fell to the floor, unmoving.

“Austin! What did you do?” Regina screamed as I rounded on her.

“How could you, Regina? After twenty-five years?” I said, my anger giving way to sadness.

“It was a mistake, Austin. I’m s-s-so sorry,” she said as she backed away from me, her eyes filled with tears.

“Fuck you, Regina. Burning a pizza is a mistake. Forgetting milk at the grocery store is a mistake. Fucking your husband’s brother? That-that’s no mistake.” I could hear sirens outside. Someone must have called the police. “We’re done. Get your shit and get out.” 

Without looking back at her, I walked back over to Sam and checked his pulse. Still breathing. Thank God. I stood up slowly and walked outside, where the police were getting out of their cruisers. A funny feeling came over me. Then, relief. I was no longer angry. I could go on without Regina and be happy. Regina would have to suffer the consequences when they arose.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.