I didn’t let myself cry as the hot water washed down over me. I was worth more than what was done to me, and he was not worth the salt of my tears. My mind has been on warp speed since the discovery, and since I’d been alone when it happened, I had time to think and get myself together.
I went through the motions in the hour it took for me to pack my shit and get most of it downstairs. I felt a pang of hurt and anger, but that was for what had been in the beginning and what I had hoped we might be when things had started off so spectacularly.
Maybe this is how I earned the nickname I’ve had since high school. I don’t see it myself, but those close to me have always said I’m definitely a bit of a bitch. I call it being assertive.
Look, I’m a practical person, and I’ve never liked taking out the trash; that’s a man’s job. So why the hell would I get all bent out of shape when the trash takes itself out? And any man who cheats on his partner who has been nothing but good to him is just that: trash.
The sex had been subpar the last year or so, and the honeymoon had been over within the first six months, but I was hanging in there because that’s what a respectable girl from a well-heeled family is supposed to do.
It was a trap, and I knew it. When you start dreading the marriage question instead of looking forward to it, you prettymuch know that it’s over. And that is why I facilitated his little affair in the first damn place. I don’t know how a man who knows that I’m a freaking IT genius could convince himself that he was pulling the wool over my eyes.
He'd done a good job, though; I’ll give him that. The extra phone that he kept hidden was something I had overlooked since he wasn’t bright enough to come up with that one on his own. I’ll have to do some digging to figure out who helped him there, but for now, I’ll just focus on myself and reprogramming the new me.
Don’t get it twisted; I'm going to make them pay. But first, I have to get my shit together. I don’t know where he got the balls. As for his little side bitch, she’s going to rue the day she disrespected me for some mediocre dick.
JESSICA
The shower helped work some of the kinks out of my stressed shoulders and calmed my nerves down a bit so that by the time I stepped out, my killer aura had dimmed. Of course, my first thought was about the situation, but I know better than anyone that it would take at least a couple of weeks before that is no longer the case.
I’m not a machine; I do have feelings, but I’ve been raised to compartmentalize things in my head before making a move one way or another. I’d already made the toughest decision of all, which was walking away after spending three years of my precious life with that ass.
I know most people would weigh the pros and cons, not willing to just give up on something they’d invested time and effort in, but I’d much rather leave that failure in my rearview mirror than hang onto a dying, fragmented relationship just because. Sunk cost fallacy is for the birds.
I’m about ready to move on to brighter and better things when I’m good and ready. Damn, I should’ve driven a little bit further until I found a decent hotel with a mini bar, at least; this is cause for celebration.
I had barely pulled on my night clothes, which consisted of a tank and some shorts, when there was a knock at the door that had me jumping out of my skin. No way! There’s no way he could’ve followed me here. How? I snatched the door open, already making plans for my defense because this bitch was asking for it.
My mouth was open, and my arm raised, ready to knock his ass to the ground when I came up short. “Dad? How did you know where I was?”
The two people who spawned me walked past me into the room. Mom already had that sour look on her face, like she smelled something foul, and Dad was casing the joint as if expecting, I don’t know what.
“What world are you living in where I don’t know where you are when I need to?”
“How?” Why am I even asking?
“You’re the tech guru; you figure it out.”
“Mom?”
“Don’t look at me, I can’t even wipe my ass without him knowing. How are you feeling, sweetheart?”
“I’m fine. I’m trying to figure out where I should go on holiday.”
“That’s my girl.” She smiled and brushed my hair over my shoulder before giving it a love pat.
“Good; it’s best if you’re out of the country for the next little while.” Dad was still looking around the room like he’d never seen one before, which might be true: the snob.
His words finally registered, and I knew I had to clear my head fast. “What do you mean by that, Dad? You’re not thinking of doing anything criminal, are you?” I don’t trust that smirk of his.
“Is that any way to talk to your father?”
“Did Dale show up at your house?”
“There’s no blood on me.” I snorted at his deadpan answer.
“Seriously, Dad, it’s no big deal. The relationship was on its last legs anyway.”
“It doesn’t matter. No one fucks with a Thornton and gets away with it. You should be glad it’s me and not your grandfather and great-uncles.”
