He Started It

by Samantha Downing

Our sessions are like being on one of those spinning things on the playground – the metal kind with the bars on them. Why can’t adults see how stupid and dangerous those things are? I ask the same question about my therapy sessions.

I know, it’s terrible of me to keep such big things from my husband, but I stand by my decision, even now. Couples who think they need to tell each other every little thing they do or did are destined to fail. All those details build up to a heaping pile of crap and you can’t stay married to that.

The Peak Valley Inn has a platinum-level vending machine. No empty spaces, no fading wrappers, no cracked plexiglass. A good mix of salty and sweet, plus individual packs of laundry detergent, toothpaste, and tampons. I’m so inspired that I do my laundry in their coin-operated machines, and it’s so impressive that they work I almost feel bad for underestimating this motel.

‘No mayo?’ he says. Mayo. That goddamn mayo. You want to know why I cheated on Felix? Because of this right here.

Felix has hated mayo since I met him. He says so every time we get sandwiches or burgers, veggie or real, doesn’t matter. Even fish sticks and chicken nuggets, he says it. No mayo. And he said it again that night. Like I didn’t know. That’s why I stopped the stripper as he walked to his car. That’s why I had sex with him in the back of mine. And I don’t even have a thing about men in uniforms. It was because of the mayo. Because he said it over and over again, like he didn’t think I was smart enough to remember.