Trouble in Paradise

The Police Are Looking for My Husband

Again

He thinks he can hide from this. Photo by Luke Jones on Unsplash

Each time the police knock on the door, he hides. He thinks all of his problems will magically go away. He thinks they’ll stop trying to find him. One day soon, it will all catch up to him.

Tick-tock, motherfucker.

A few weeks before I physically left my marriage, I was in the kitchen of our family home, making lunch for our daughter. Out of the window, I saw a police car pull into the driveway.

Naively, I called to my husband, “The police are here.”

My husband ran into the room, pulled our daughter out of her highchair, grabbed my arm, and escorted us into the nursery. I asked him what he was doing and what was going on. The only response I got was, “Ssshhh”.

What heartwarming family memories we created.

There were several knocks at the door. A twenty-second pause, then another knock. This continued twice more. Our dog barked. We sat silently in the nursery.

Just an average Tuesday.

When my husband checked that the police car had left, he said,

“They probably just needed help with something.”