The alarm went off right after six a.m. Donald opened his eyes, then rose, and grabbed his robe. The coffee pot was on the counter, waiting to perform its morning, and sometimes nightly favor for him. Yessenia was already at the table eating oatmeal, washing it down with brandy. Donald ignored her as he added sugar, milk, and a shot of vodka to his coffee. Yessenia gazed at the back of his head, wishing it would just burst into flames. She had not forgotten the phone call she received from Susana, the new bartender for Maven’s on West Second Street. Susana told Yessenia about how she and Donald made a connection, and that she was sorry if it caused any problems within their marriage. As far as Donald was concerned, there were no problems until Yessenia lost her sex drive. Donald wasn’t dead yet, so he gave in to temptation and justified his actions through the abstinence of his wife for nine years. Even as he stirred his coffee, Donald didn’t feel any pangs of guilt, no remorse of his infidelity. Yessenia stood after downing the last of her brandy, walking towards Donald. Yessenia stopped when Donald faced her. The magnum appeared; drawing blood, then returning to the robe pocket it laid in all night.