The time my ex-husband called his girlfriend "baby."

The time I heard my ex-husband call his girlfriend "baby,"

I saw the word fly from his mouth, shaped like a small, brown bird,

familiar and lovely. I caught it, built it a nest from leaves and mud,

placed it inside. 

One time, within earshot of me, my ex-husband called his girlfriend "baby,"

I gasped. I clutched my crochet hook tightly in my right hand, pulled yarn with my left.

I kept making a blanket for our daughters, quietly. Like a lady.

One time, when my ex-husband called his girlfriend "baby,"

I tossed back my head and howled like a wolf.

This one time, when my ex-husband called his girlfriend "baby,"

I stood from my chair. went into the kitchen - found the butcher knife and stabbed everyone.

Everyone. I smeared their blood across the walls, scribing BABY. I wiped his blood across my stomach and kissed him, slowly, as he closed his eyes. 

I heard my ex-husband call his girlfriend "baby," and I took out my phone to look at my bank account. All the money in it was my own. 

When I heard my ex-husband call his girlfriend "baby,"

I rushed at him to pluck out his eyes from his face. I placed them in a small jar I'd been saving for the occasion. I left in a hurry, of course, and set the jar beside my bed.

When my ex-husband called his girlfriend "baby," I didn't care at all. Getting a divorce was a good decision. I was happy he'd found a new love.

Once, I heard my ex-husband call his girlfriend "baby." I had to dismember their bodies, but I left his torso intact. I took it home and studied how to preserve it, furiously YouTubing, mixing chemicals in my kitchen. When he was safely preserved, I slow danced with him, his arms around me - his eyes still - his mouth, quiet.

When I heard him call her "baby," I said to her, "You know, he shouldn't talk to you like that. It's condescending. You don't have to live like this, you know?" She nodded in solemn agreement. 

The time I heard my ex-husband call his girlfriend "baby,"

I grabbed my stomach, felt the scars from giving birth to his children. Felt the emptiness.