Episode 12

Fifteen days had already passed since they had filed for divorce, and during that time, she had not left her house once. Her daughters had called her several times. Ava was happily working in Vancouver, while Amelie was studying for exams before summer break. Both of them had expressed surprise when they noticed their father had deposited money for them. Susan wandered around her house, increasingly lethargic, determined to change that situation. That morning, she had decided to go to the beauty salon. Afterwards, she would have dinner with her friends to celebrate Joanne's birthday. She drove to the salon, took a seat upon entering, and while getting her manicure done, she overheard a conversation about David and his lover.

"He personally took care of them, you should see the car he bought her. It's evident that young woman has him wrapped around her finger. But men are like that, all the theatrics they put on three weeks ago celebrating their anniversary, and he replaces her with a young girl," commented one woman.

"Some women just refuse to see what doesn't suit them," replied the other.

Susan remained silent, contemplating her situation. When her manicure was over, she left and returned home. This is how she would live the rest of her life, she thought, enclosed and secluded. At least this way, she wouldn't have to endure people talking about her. As she glanced at her table in the living room, she noticed there was mail waiting, including a large brown envelope. She left her keys on the table and went to change. She put on a pajama and a robe, deciding she would never go out again. She put on some music, opened a bottle of wine, poured herself a glass, and headed to the living room to go through the mail. After reviewing the correspondence, she finally opened the brown envelope. It contained pictures from her anniversary party. She finished her glass in one gulp and poured another. The bottle was soon empty, and as she continued to drink, she felt a growing warmth. Pouring herself another glass, she started looking at the photos.

"My beautiful girls," Susan said, looking at a picture of her daughters and some guests. Then she recognized the woman from the salon. "You nosy woman, I won't send you a Christmas card this year," Susan declared, taking another sip. Suddenly, the phone in her house rang. Another glass. Susan headed to answer the call. It was Joanne.

"Susan, we've been waiting for you," Joanne said, sounding worried. There was a loud crash. "Susan, what's happening?" she asked.

"The table bumped into me. I'll see you tomorrow," Susan replied, lying on the floor as she ended the call. "Stupid table, I should send you to David. You would make a great pair," she muttered, looking around. "Where did I leave my glass?" she wondered.

Susan crawled to the sofa and, once seated, noticed the wine bottle. She started drinking directly from it. She reached out and grabbed one of the photographs, it was a picture of David alone. Taking another sip, she exclaimed, "Tell me, David. Susan, you sound just like a little boy! How embarrassing! You're a hypocrite. You've turned me into the laughingstock of Seattle. I would have preferred to be a widow. At least I would have been a young widow. Instead, I'm an old cuckold," Susan shouted, throwing all the photos. "I need more alcohol!" she declared. "While I suffer because of you, you're rolling around like the pig you are," she yelled at the photograph. "That's right, go live in the pigsty, just like the pig you are." Susan took the photograph and threw it in the kitchen trash can, then searched for another bottle of wine.

In the city center, Joanne was with her friends, including French painter Gerard Dubois, who had traveled from New York to present his latest creations.

"Why so serious, my dear?" Gerard asked.

"I was thinking about my friend Susan. When I called her, it seemed like she had been drinking. But maybe it's just my imagination. Susan isn't like that," Joanne replied.

After a few minutes, unable to shake off her concern, and seeing some guests had left, Joanne bid farewell to her friend Gerard.

"Wait, don't go. I'll accompany you in the taxi. You shouldn't be alone at this late hour," he said.

While the taxi driver drove towards Susan's place, Joanne chatted animatedly with her friend about the exhibition.

"I promise I'll come see you, maybe I can convince Susan to come with me."

"Why are you so worried about Susan? Is she sick?" he asked.

"No, her husband just left her after twenty-five years for a twenty-year-old girl."

"It must be difficult," he said.

Upon arriving at the house, music could be heard from the garden, and the lights were on.

Joanne began pounding on the door, and as she looked through one of the windows, she saw things scattered everywhere.

"And what if she's hurt! Joanne exclaimed."

"I'll see if there's an open window, Gerard told her. You stay here and try to get her to open up. While Joanne continued knocking, Gerard circled around the house looking for a way in. Susan was in the kitchen, struggling to open another bottle. As she pulled the cork, the contents spilled onto her robe. She turned and spotted a man passing by the patio. She grabbed the bottle and decided to confront the intruder. Exiting through the laundry room, she took a few steps but started feeling very dizzy. That's when she saw the figure of the thief and raised her arm, ready to strike him with the bottle. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her movement and skillfully dodged her attack, gripping her tightly by the arm and waist. The bottle fell to the ground."