Short Story: Hidden Intent

Instead of linking to WDC for the conclusion of this story, it is reprinted here in its entirety, so that I can use this entry for the February Creative Carnival hosted by Write Stuff! Comments/critiques/feedback are appreciated!

Hidden Intent

Dawn’s light crept into the peaceful bedroom in the corner of the house. Joy blinked rapidly to clear the sleep from her eyes and slowly propped herself up in the plush bed she shared with her husband, Jonathan. Twisting her head to say good morning, she noticed that his side of the bed remained smooth; untouched. It appeared he hadn’t slept here yet again, but Joy was not awake enough to summon the now-common anger at his absence.

She stood, stretching towards the rays of light emanating from the windows that consumed three walls of their large bedroom. Making her way to the bathroom to prepare for the long day ahead, she languorously pushed her long brunette hair from her face. There were so many plans she still needed to finalize. Jonathan had grown so distant, so remote; Joy knew that she needed to take drastic actions to show him the effect he had on her.

Through years of marriage, they’d shared everything – no secrets were kept, no arguments endured, no break in their mutual beliefs of true love. This past year, however, had brought a drastic change. They hadn’t argued, but Jonathan continued to drift farther away.

Time rapidly passed, as the day charged forward from sunrise to sunset. Standing hidden behind the elegant folding doors that led to the dining room, Joy thought of all of the preparations she’d undertaken to get to this point today. Nothing could go wrong now – she’d come too far and there was no turning back. She clutched the sharp knife so tightly behind her back that her palm was growing sweaty. With a tremendous effort, she composed herself mentally and willed her face to remain passive and body to remain calm.

Jonathan sat with his late afternoon cup of tea, engrossed in the latest issue of the Wall Street Journal. Each day, he rose early in the morning to leave, returning each afternoon to unwind from a busy day. The details of this time away were never shared with Joy anymore, although they’d once discussed everything. It was only by chance that she’d stumbled upon what now occupied his time away from their remote country estate. Wouldn’t he be surprised when she revealed herself in just a few moments?

Renewing her grip on the knife, Joy heard rustling behind her, but ignored the distraction. Counting silently to herself, she waited until ten to move forward, pushing through the doorway and into the dining room. Joy whipped her arm swiftly from behind her back to reveal the hidden knife as Jonathan looked up in surprise.

“Darling…?” He managed before the motion of her arm took his breath away.

“Surprise! Happy Birthday!” The shout came from the friends who poured through the door.

Joy set the knife upon the rolling cart that carried a sheet cake commemorating Jonathan’s birthday and moved to her husband’s side.

“I really got you, baby, didn’t I?” She asked. “You’ve been avoiding me so often that I was starting to think you had secrets going on behind my back. When I found out that you really did, I decided it was time to take actions of my own.”

“Wha-what are you talking about?” Jonathan sounded confused.

“Let’s just say: gotcha! Once I realized that you were busy making plans to sell the company so you could have more free time, I knew I needed to show you how I feel.”

“I don’t know what to say. You weren’t supposed to find out until it was a done deal.” Jonathan stood as friends crowded around to share good wishes.

Joy began slicing and serving Jonathan’s special cake. She passed around plates to the people who had joined her and her husband on this momentous day.

“That isn’t all I learned, baby. I learned far more. About you…and about our friends.” Joy’s voice grew louder as she addressed the group.

“Sweetheart, I don’t know what to say. We have terrific friends,” Jonathan said, taking his seat as their friends took others around the large table.

“Yes, darling. You do. They’ve even helped to shield you in these past months when they knew you were planning your new life without me.”

“Darling, you know I wouldn’t do that.” Jonathan took a large bit of his cake.

“Do I? I also know about Debbie, and I know that the plane tickets you’ve booked for next week are with her, not me.”

The guests, and Jonathan, slowly lowered their forks to their plates as Joy continued her accusations.

“I also know that Danny, here, has agreed to let you and Debbie use his coast house until you could get rid of me. And I know that Clair and Chris helped you prepare the paperwork to cast me off without a dime. So yes, Jonathan, you truly have wonderful friends. By the way, friends…how’s the cake?”

Walking around the table, Joy watched passively as faces turned red and choking commenced.

“Joy…Joy. What have you done?” Jonathan’s voice was strained as he tried to bring air into his lungs.

“Oh, nothing, darling. Simply made plans of my own. Without you. Without any of you.” Joy’s voice regained its prior calm as she watched her guests expire before her eyes.

Joy’s preparations included immunizing herself against the poison baked into the cake. Taking a bite, she knew that it would simply put her to sleep, so the police would never suspect her involvement in the death of her husband and guests. By the time she awoke, she’d be free.

Feeling the lull of the poison drawing her into darkness, she smiled at her success. Her smile turned quickly to a grimace of pain. Her chest tightened into spasms of coughing caused not by the poison she voluntarily ingested, but from the wedge of cake caught in her throat. Losing her battle for breath, she realized that although her husband had been missing from the last months of her life, they would be companions in death.

• Written for: A Picture is Worth 1000 Words Contest, Round 49


• Winner: 2nd Place


• Word Count: 999


• Original WDC Post: Hidden Intent


• Prompt: Picture depicted a woman standing behind swinging double doors, hold a knife behind her back.