Marla heard the shatter of the glass pitcher from the kitchen, which was out of the ordinary for John’s morning routine, but she paid no mind. She heard Craig come into the kitchen and Craig would be on her mind the rest of the day. There had always been talks of Marla’s obsession with her husband’s brother, but it was all put aside when she agreed to go on a date with John.
   
 The night she arrived twenty minutes early for the senior prom should have been the first clue that she had her eyes on Craig. John was still in the bathroom and lost in his own routine. Craig had just flown in, covered in orange slime and his shirt in tatters. His mother and father, used to this by now, introduced Marla to the boy she knew quite well already but never met. Being the polite person he was, Craig bowed slightly and apologized for his appearance. Marla immediately flung herself on him and hoped he would pick her up in his arms and take her away. However, Craig stood there in shock and asked if his date had called yet. In spite of all the warnings given to him by his parents and his brother, John insisted on following through with the date and courtship that eventually led to the marriage.
    
She now stood in the kitchen the two of them had remodeled from a boisterous and lively environment to a whitewashed, sterile room. The scrambled eggs she cooked even felt too colorful in there. However, as she turned to take her plate to the table, she noticed a track of footprints all over her floor. She immediately retrieved one of John’s shoes and held it up for comparison. The print was two and a half inches bigger, confirming her suspicions of Craig’s presence. She rushed out to get a broom. She swept every square inch of the kitchen, even moving the table and chairs to get what was under them. John was aware of his wife’s infatuation but remained in the relationship and even insisted on bringing a child into their home. There were no “welcome home” kisses. They never asked about each other’s days. Even their wedding felt more like a Tupperware party instead of a celebration of love.
    
She gathered the dirt into the dustpan and began to sift out hairs and string. At Craig and Lisa’s wedding, it was a who’s who of politicians, celebrities and some of the strangest outfits on the strangest people. It lasted for two days straight, but John and Marla only stayed for the hour-long ceremony which was in four different languages. John didn’t even acknowledge Marla’s expressions of sadness over the event as she moped around the house. With her emotions known, but never acknowledged, Marla had to revert to obsession.
    
She tossed the dirt into the trash, as well as her now cold eggs, and held the tiny strings and hair in her hand. She fished the key to the basement out of the junk drawer and unlocked the seldom used door outside, still in her nightgown. As she descended the steps, she made sure not to drop any of the small artifacts she now carried. A click of the overhead light revealed a small shrine she had set up to Craig. Cardboard cutouts lined the walls from various products he endorsed. A barrel held small articles of clothing she had taken whenever she and John were at his house. Every book, article or documentary that had been completed in relation to him lined an old bookcase to the side. Marla even had each Christmas and birthday card from Craig on display in frames.
    
From a row of full jars, she plucked a half empty one that was beside her wedding picture with John’s head replaced by Craig’s. After she carefully unscrewed the lid, she dumped her findings from the floor into the jar and inhaled deeply before replacing the lid and container back where she found it. After she admired a few things around the room, she stopped at the light and sighed.
    
“Come back to me soon,” she said, then hid the room in darkness.


— Olivia Cooper is a senior in creative writing. She can be reached at ocooper@utk.edu.