I stared at the computer screen. I had added even more to my cart than before. This wasn’t a backup plan anymore. I was going to kill my husband. And even though the idea of setting booby traps seemed ridiculous, I couldn’t think of anything else. The plan that Ben had set up consumed me. I’d show him I could do it without his help.

My order was all ready for checkout, but I didn’t know what to do. The countdown timer was clicking down. I was running out of time if I wanted the items in two days. The Christmas ornaments stared back at me, mocking me.

If I ordered with my credit card, my husband would see it. But I needed those items. Stupid Ben with his stupid face had ruined everything.

I pulled out my credit card and quickly typed in the numbers before I could change my mind. I’d tell my husband I didn’t order anything and that our credit card must have been stolen. Or that I’d ordered him a gift. Christmas was only three months away. It wasn’t that preposterous.

Before I could chicken out, I pressed the place order button. It didn’t matter now. It was done. I exed out of the internet browser and stood up. Today was just another Friday. And I needed to clean before my husband came home. If he saw the poster board or leftover pizza he’d have too many questions.

***

The poster board was the last thing to go. Everything else had been thoroughly cleaned and scrubbed. Any trace of Ben had been completely wiped away. Except for his scent. His grassy smell seemed ingrained in my nostrils. I had even blown my nose several times. I wiped it absentmindedly with the back of my hand as I spread the poster board out on the counter to study it once more.

I knew where everything went. My husband wouldn’t just end up dead. He’d end up tortured and fairly humiliated. A smile curled onto my lips. It was the perfect plan.

I was just about to throw out the poster board when I spotted the camera out of the corner of my eye. It was silly to even think about it. It’s not like Ben was watching me right now. He was probably busy getting ready for his date. Or maybe he was already out.

But I didn’t want him to see me go through with the plan. I didn’t want him to be able to see me at all. I grabbed a stepstool and wrapped my hand around the camera.

My phone buzzed and I almost slipped off the ladder. I stared daggers at the little device and hobbled back down the ladder. There was a message from Ben. I glanced at the camera for a second and then opened up the text.

“Addy, don’t.”

I exhaled slowly. He was watching. Well, I had something to say to him too. I flipped over the poster board and wrote on the back in big, bold letters: “FUCK YOU, BEN.” I held it up to the camera.

Another text came through. “What about the plan?”

I lifted up the poster board again and tapped it with my index finger before ripping it in half and throwing it in the recycling bin.

My phone buzzed but I ignored it. I walked back up the ladder and tried to yank the camera out of place. But Ben had freaking screwed it into the cabinet. How had I not realized that he was ruining my kitchen? I looked down at my watch. I only had 20 minutes until my husband would be home. I didn’t have time to figure out how to dismantle it.

I gave the camera the middle finger and then went to get some duct tape. I wasn’t sure when my tears had started to fall. But I felt them. Big, fat tears rolled down my cheeks as I placed the duct tape over the camera lens.

My phone started ringing now, but I ignored it.

I did the same thing to the camera upstairs before changing into a dress and matching sweater. I slid on my engagement and wedding rings and went back downstairs.

I counted out the number of pills I should have taken from each container and then dumped them in the trash. After the trash and recycling were taken out, I smoothed my dress, buttoned my sweater and plastered my fake smile on my face. I was close to escaping. Just one more week of hell. But this weekend had to be completely normal. I’d be on my best behavior. I’d do everything my husband wanted.

And then next Friday when he came home at 5:45 pm, I’d murder him.

My phone started ringing again. Damn it, Ben couldn’t keep calling me. He’d ruin everything.

I slid my finger across the screen to accept his call. “Don’t you have better things to do than spy on an old lady, Ben?”

“What the hell are you doing, Addy? We had a plan.”

“Plans change.”

“This was going to work. Take the tape off the cameras before he gets home. We’ll capture it on film. We’ll get him sent away.”

I’d had all afternoon to think about the plan. And I didn’t want to send him away. I wanted him to stop breathing. There would be no prison bars for my dear husband. I still planned on burying him in the backyard. “I don’t want you watching me.”

He groaned, as if I was the most frustrating human being he had ever met. When in reality, he was the frustrating one.

“Addy, listen to me…”

“I’ve done enough listening. Go have fun on your date and forget you ever met me.”

“Forget I ever met you? What are you talking about? I can’t just sit here knowing what you’re planning to do. You can’t kill your husband, Addy!”

Oh yes I can.

“Adeline, I’m home!” my husband said from the hallway.

I hadn’t even heard him walk in. How long had he been here? Ben was already ruining my weekend before it had even begun. “Would you please be so kind as to place me on your do not call list?” I said, waiting for my husband to emerge into the kitchen.

“Is he there?” asked Ben. “Jesus, Addy, don’t do anything stupid.”

“Thanks. You have a good day too. Bye.”

Right before I hung up, I heard Ben say: “How can you even ask me to forget about you? You know how I feel about you, Addy.”

I pressed the end call button. My heart was beating so fast it felt like it was slamming into my ribcage. I thought I knew how he felt. But all of that was a lie. I wasn’t sure why I was stuck on that part of the conversation. I should have been worried that Ben would try to stop me. He said he wouldn’t sit around while I killed my husband. And he didn’t know that I was waiting on a very important Amazon order. He might think I was going to try to kill him tonight. Or sometime this weekend. I bit the inside of my lip. What if he showed up here trying to stop me?

“Who was on the phone?” my husband asked as he walked into the kitchen.

“Just a telemarketer. How was the rest of your week?”

“Good.” He cupped my face in his hand. “But I was worried about you.”

“I’ve been doing a lot better. I’ve been taken my pills again. And you’re right. I needed them. I’m so sorry that I worried you. But everything’s fine now.” It was easy to smile. Because soon everything would be fine. As long as Ben stayed out of my way.

“Let’s go out and celebrate tonight,” I said. I couldn’t stay here, waiting for Ben to barge in and ruin all my plans. At dinner I’d sneak away to the bathroom and send Ben a text. I’d let him know that I wasn’t planning on going through with it this weekend.

“That’s a wonderful idea, Adeline. There’s a lot to celebrate tonight. I have some exciting news as well. Call and make a reservation while I go freshen up.” He placed a kiss against my lips. “We have a lot to talk about tonight.”

Somehow I was able to manage a calm, “That’s lovely,” before he exited the kitchen. What the hell else are we celebrating?