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Somehow, we ended up back upstairs in my bed doing the nasty because a pregnant Callie is a horny toad, and he isn’t much better.
I let him have his little victory fuck before bursting his bubble.
“So, what do you want to do? Should we get remarried? I should move back in to help you out. You know how you get when you’re pregnant.” If he was a smoker, he’d be lighting up right about now.
“Stop right there. You’re moving way too fast, and besides, marriage isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“How can you say that? You always wanted to be married with a houseful of kids.”
“Yeah, well, I married this colossal asshole who turned me off the idea. Never again!” That one got him really good, and he was like to burn my pillowcase with all the fire he was breathing.
Unluckily for him, I wasn’t done for the night.
“You’re forgetting one other thing. It might not be yours.” That’s right motherfucker. Now, I played around with the idea of coming clean about my imaginary boyfriend but decided that it was best if, for the rest of his life, ‘Tim’ lived rent-free in his head.
For all the nights I wondered, all the tears I shed. His ass was going to suffer for the next six months, at which point I was going to insist on a DNA test. I could do it sooner to put his mind at ease, but why the hell would I wanna go and do a stupid ass thing like that?
CHAPTER 10
The uproar my last announcement caused was one for the books. I’ve never seen my stalwart ex-husband so flustered. He demanded to meet Tim. No! He ranted for a good half hour, threatened, and even came close to tears. That’s when I left the room; I had no time for his theatrics.
Besides, now that he knew I was pregnant, the real fun was about to begin. I called our parents over the next day and gave them the news, which started talks of reconciliation. You should’ve seen his face when I said that might not be possible, and when asked why, he almost broke his ass trying to give an explanation. Anything, not to mention mommy’s friend.
For some reason, it seemed very important to him that no one knew I even knew what another dick looked like. Meanwhile, he had a whole-ass woman for the better part of three years. I kept a straight face, I don’t know how but told them all firmly that marriage was not in the cards, and they knew why.
His family and mine spent the next few days trying to convince me that he was a changed man, and my own mother, bless her heart, had the nerve to tell me in private that since I took him back into my bed, there was no reason I shouldn’t marry him again. I had to educate this grown-ass woman on how free dick works. She called me a hedonist and threatened to tell my dad. Okay, that’ll work. It didn’t when I was a kid under his care but sure.
That wasn’t the best part, though; the fun really started with the online announcement. That grimy bitch made crazy look like a stroll in the park on a nice spring day. She went off the rails. Remember, she had that false pregnancy under her belt, and here I was with the real thing and proof to boot. I think what really sent her spiraling were the comments our ex made under each of my posts.
Personally, I think he was taking shots at ‘Tim,’ but whatever, it works for me. His, I can’t wait to welcome my little one into the world.’ When he wrote that for all the world to see, I told him that he shouldn’t say things like that because it might upset Tim, who was still in the running and might be the father. Of course, this was after sex, and before I told him it was time to go. If misery had a face, his was it. Ask me if I care.
Now I’m not one for social media; not even with my other three pregnancies did I have this much free time on my hands to be posting shit all day, every day, but because I knew that stalker bitch was living only for my updates, I did my best to fill her quota.
Friends and family, not knowing what was going on, engaged in the comments and drove that knife deeper into her cold, black heart. Justin took the kids out so I could rest today. Justin rubbed my tummy for an hour, Justin washed my hair. If he sneezed in my house I posted it, but since he was now following me as well, I kept it to the truth and relatively lighthearted so that he didn’t know what I was up to.
He was pleased to be getting all these mentions because he was sure ‘Tim’ was seeing them too. His dumb ass is in full-fledged competition with a man that doesn’t exist. Well, for the first few months of their affair, I didn’t know she existed either so we’re even.
Along with that, he’d lost his damn mind. Ever since I told him that the baby might not be his, he’s been on my ass, doing his best to take care of me, as if he was trying to prove that even if the kid wasn’t his by blood, it was still his because he was my husband. I had to remind him at least twice a day that he was not.
I was fighting on two fronts here. Him and her. I tormented her ass online every chance I got without even mentioning her name or acknowledging her existence. I’d done my research, so I knew well in advance how to see who was looking at my posts and when. I knew down to the minute each time she looked at my pages.
I knew I was getting to her because she went back to driving by my house, which worked perfectly in my favor. I, of course, brought this to Justin’s attention; note I didn’t call the law because their part in this was over. She was already on the books for making a nuisance of herself, so one wrong move going forward, and I would have her ass.
But there was a whole other purpose behind me provoking her to do this. I claimed to be afraid for me and my babies, the three that were already here and the one in my tummy. That got him to first start staying over every night, which meant she saw his car each time she went by, and next he called a lawyer to see about taking out a restraining order against her to protect ‘his family.’
Now, why is that important, given that I had already gotten one? Because it was a kind of rejection that came directly from him, something I felt when he left me for her. It was him saying he didn’t want her, that he chose me and his kids. If she didn’t get the message from all those comments he made beneath my posts, then this was the proverbial nail in the coffin.
I could’ve told him that those pieces of paper weren’t going to work because while he was looking for ways to create peace, I was starting a war. I wanted her to endure the hell that I felt each time I had to imagine the two of them together betraying me, hurting me, making me feel like I was less than nothing while I suffered the pain and agony of his betrayal.
Now, when she texted his phone while he was here, I no longer spoke as myself but pretended to be him, and the things I told her were bound to send her stark raving mad, which was kind of my intention.
I’ve been there. Nights when I laid in bed alone, thinking that I was going to lose my mind and barely holding on for the sake of my kids. It was not easy. And all those nights, he was with her. So, when she’d text, I’d answer that I was going back to my wife and kids, that she was the worst mistake of my life, and that she needed to leave me alone so I could fix what she and I had broken.
Mind you, I couldn't give a fig if that’s what he really felt; not once in all this time did I give him a second thought. Why would I? Was he thinking of me when he was ripping my heart to shreds, running around with this skank?
She reminded him about all the fun they’d had and all the plans they’d made for the future, which I coldly and precisely cut down. I reminded her that I loved my wife and kids and wanted nothing to do with her ever again.
I told her that she could never match up to my beautiful wife and I must’ve been blind. It was a midlife crisis; she was trash. I fucked with her head just like she did with mine and didn’t give a damn that she was a woman just like me. Do to me, I’ll do to you.
