“Spanish fly. Very rare, and there is a limited supply. It’s potent, and they use it abroad, but it’s hard to get here in the US. Just a few drops should do the trick. It kicks everything up a notch. It will make things last longer—and harder.” Embarrassment licked over my skin as I digested that information, my mother-in-law listening eagerly by my side.
“We’ll take it,” Helen replied, and slipped the vial into my purse before I could think twice.
That had been almost a month earlier, the scene I had overheard at the hospital having spurred me into motion. Helen was more than eager to help me out, apparently having had her own run-in with Sophie and her fireman. There was a silent undercurrent running between the three of us; Helen, Max, and me, an awareness of something coming, what that was, though, was still to be seen.
There had been small changes in Max’s behavior. He was up earlier and working later, but he hadn’t touched me. He had taken to sleeping in the guest room and hadn’t made a move to come back to our shared bedroom. The one time I brought it up, Max shut me down in more ways than one.
One morning, I woke up to an empty bed and made my way to the kitchen. Taking far too much time, I finally figured out how to use the barista espresso machine and prepared a cup for Max, who had just made it downstairs, dressed for work.
“Cappuccino for you, darling,” I told him, and he gave me a wary look.
“I drink americano,” he said coldly, reluctantly taking the frothy drink.
“Oh. I’m sorry. I can make you a new one,” I told him, trying to keep a smile on my face.
“It’s fine. Deidra can get me one. She knows how I like it.” Max walked over to the cabinet, where he went about taking his multivitamins for the day—pills I had replaced with Aurora’s prescriptions weeks before.
“Maxwell, I’ve noticed you haven’t been sleeping in our bedroom. Is there something wrong? Do we need to look at new bedroom sets?” I asked, trying to come up with a solution to any argument he might come up with.
“Nothing wrong with the furniture. Just been sleeping better in the other room,” he replied, not even bothering to face me during the conversation.
“I miss having you next to me, having access to you whenever I want,” I purred, stepping up behind him to slide my hands overhis back before wrapping around to his stomach.
“I don’t have time for this, Nat. I like the guest room. You toss and turn so much. It keeps me awake. Don’t overthink it. I’ve got to get to work.” Without so much as a kiss goodbye, he walked away from me, leaving me cold inside.
Up until then, I had been wary of using the Spanish fly, but I was running out of options. I had one last trick up my sleeve before I gave in and tried the rest of Aurora’s magic potions.
Deciding to pull out the big guns, I planned to bring Max lunch, dressed in a raincoat with only lingerie underneath. It was risky, but I was desperate.
When I got to his office, Dede wasn’t at her desk, and I let go of a breath. One less person I had to walk past, one less person to judge me. As I made my way toward Max’s office, I pressed a hand down my hair, preparing to enter, when voices caught my attention.
Once again, I found myself as a silent observer, forced to stand in the dark to find out the truths of my life. Max was arguing with a blonde woman I had never seen before. She was tall and thin, with a spray tan and oversized tits. Her voice was sweet and utterly fake.
“Max, please, you have to forgive me. I’ll do anything you want. Let me make it up to you.” The last part was said in a lower register as the woman closed the space between her and my husband.
“Let me take care of you, Max. I’ll be so good to you,” she continued, and I waited for him to push her away. Instead, his hand reached for the woman. Grabbing her by the back of her neck, he pulled her close before pressing a brutal kiss to her lips. Pink nails dug into his shoulders as the sounds of their breathing increased.
“Beg me to fuck you. I want to hear you say it, Lindsey,” he told the woman, and her whimpering plea was the last thing I heard. Stumbling away from the door, I kept my head down as I made my hasty escape. Time was running out.
All of it would be for nothing if Max wound up knockingsomeone else up. Remembering the small vial, hidden carefully in the back of my vanity drawer, I knew it was time to use it. I wasn’t about to let another gold-digging Barbie rip my place out from beneath me. This time, I was prepared, and I was going to fight back.
Maxwell
“Please, fuck me, Max,” Lindsey’s high-pitched voice whined as her nails dug into my shoulders.
My blood was on fire. It felt like I was crawling out of my skin. All I could think of in those days was sex, fucking, a deep, animalistic need to get my hands on a woman, to slake my lust until I felt some relief.
Not just any person would do, though; it had to be Sophie. I would prove to her that she was it for me. Everything I was doing was for Sophie, for our family. Lindsey was rubbing against me like a cat in heat, and I pushed her away with disgust.
“What?” She looked confused. “But… I thought—”
“You thought wrong. I didn’t bring you here so I could fuck you. You have a job to do, and I expect you to finish it. You told me Linc would come running if given a chance. Now, how are you going to get that money back to me? And don’t even try to offer your pussy again. That would barely shave a few hundred off.” Her face flushed red as she pressed her lips together, holding back whatever retort she wanted to say.
At first glance, she was attractive, her figure taut and well maintained. She was too harsh, though, too aggressive. She was beautiful, in that California girl way, trying too hard to appear relaxed and laid-back and easygoing. The blonde hair and airhead attitude were just part of the costume. It was all part of a scheme. Lindsey was playing the long game, always trying to keep up with the latest trending ingénue in order to secure the role of a lifetime: trophy wife.
Lindsey would reinvent herself in any form, for whicheverstage of life she entered. She was finally lowering herself to consider dating someone close to her real age, but she didn’t realize I saw through her. Most importantly, though, she wasn’t my Sophie, and no one would be a suitable replacement. I had learned that the hard way.
From what my PI had told me, Lindsey had been sleeping her way through life so far. Hopping from man to man, based on whichever need she was prioritizing at the time. I didn’t need Linc’s used goods, and I definitely didn’t need that wannabe actress.
