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“She’s being a pain in the ass about me moving back in. You talk to her.” He took his shit and left because he knew I would burn it.
“Good for you. Give him hell; that way, he wouldn’t make the same stupid mistake again.” I looked at my mother-in-law in awe. I’ve heard stories about awful mothers-in-law and had expected, because of her love for her son, that she would’ve chosen his side in all this. Not the affair, of course, but I’d expected her to, at some point during the last year, try talking me into taking him back.
But contrary to all that, she’s been one of my staunchest supporters, and now here she was, giving me the go-ahead to make him suffer. I was too choked up to speak, so I just reached out and took the hand she held out to me.
For the first time since I started my campaign against Justin and Daisy Dukes, I felt like crying. Someone gets me.
THE BITCH
It’s been three days since I had the run-in with the police, and I’m still a bit shaken. I haven’t left my parents’ house in all this time, which is a whole other kind of hell in itself, but the longer I stay hidden away in my room, the more time I’ve had to think, and nothing makes any sense.
No matter how I turn things over in my mind I can’t come up with a good reason for why things have turned out this way. I’ve done everything right from beginning to end, and all was well except for some reason, just when I was at my happiest, everything went to shit.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was done deliberately, that someone had set out to harm me, but there was no way that could be true. For one, I had no close friends I could share things with, so I did most of my bragging in one of the online forums I’d joined, where I learned some of the tricks I’d used to snag Justin.
So there was no one in the know who could’ve sabotaged me since all of those people used aliases, including myself, and no one ever shared their true identities. No one knew who I was or who Justin was, so I had to be wrong.
But the more that I think about it, the more convinced I was that there had to be something else at play here. Something more than a mistake I might have made. This whole situation looks so different from everything I’d expected.
None of this is what I wanted, and I find myself acting in ways foreign to my nature. Like sitting outside her home for hours, I was usually the one laughing at the girls and women I put through that ordeal.
The days I’ve spent combing through her social media posts, even going back years to a time before I even knew she existed, it’s as if I’ve become obsessed with her life, and as much as I tell myself to stop, I can’t seem to control myself.
I wake up in the morning thinking about her and go to bed at night pretty much the same. She’s all I can think about, and now, with my job gone, I have even more time on my hands to dwell. You’d think she was the one I’d had the affair with as much time as I spend looking for news on her.
But this wasn’t right; this was not the chapter of my life I was expecting at this stage in the game. Right now, I should be planning my wedding, our wedding. I’d already played the perfect stepmom to his kids even though I have no use for them, had let him use my body any way he wanted for the last couple of years, and was sure that he’d been so wrapped up in me that he wasn’t going anywhere.
Each time he even looked like he was waffling, I’d put a new pussy move on him and drag him right back in line. I was sure to only show him my sweet side in those days and never put a foot out of place.
So, what went wrong? That’s the question I’ve been wrestling with all night and for the last few days. Where did I make a wrong move or take a wrong step? I didn’t, I’m sure of it. I did everything by the book that I wrote, followed the guidelines to a t and all was going very well for me.
I could see the light at the end of the tunnel and knew that I had ensnared Justin to me in ways he wouldn’t easily escape from, so why was he back with her? It made no sense. He’d left her for me, had made his choice loud and clear. This man walked away from his wife and kids for me, so why?
I rolled over and pulled my journal from beneath my pillow. I had everything in there: all my hopes and dreams for the future. There was the notation I’d made after the divorce was finalized. I remember now how pissed I was that we weren’t getting the house, but I comforted myself with the knowledge that I could get him to buy me an even bigger and better one.
A beautiful mansion where I would throw amazing parties and lord it over all those stuck-up bitches at the job when they had to bow down to me in my home with my handsome, rich, and very successful husband on my arm.
My parties were going to be bigger and grander than hers, and everyone would be singing my praises the way they once did hers. They’d choose me, they’d finally see that I was the one for Justin, the perfect fit. I was younger and, if not prettier, had a more extroverted personality. Not like that stuck-up bitch with her smarmy smiles.
I would have a baby right away to take away from hers, a kid to replace the three he’d lost. There, that’s the picture of the mansion I’d found and was going to suggest as soon as I got pregnant. Maybe I shouldn’t have put off getting pregnant, but I always knew that it was the hassle of raising kids that had split them apart, and I was dead set on not letting that happen to me.
I would’ve gotten the contraceptive chip as soon as the first baby was born without letting him know and spaced the pregnancies about five years apart so I would have as many as she did, but not at the same rate. This way, I would’ve been able to have time for him and the kid, though I had planned on finding ways around him knowing I had a babysitter, which he seemed dead set against.
I would’ve hired someone to come an hour after he left for the office and leave an hour before he was set to arrive in the evenings. He would never have been the wiser and would’ve praised me for my hard work because, of course, someone else would’ve been cleaning the house.
He had no issues with that last part when he was married to her, obviously, since they had a cleaning service that came a few times a week back then, but I would’ve wanted someone there every day because I hate the idea of cleaning anything and why should I have to with a husband who was worth millions?
It was all in there, every last detail. I flipped through the pages back to the beginning, when things were going to plan. There were so many great memories, but when I look back now, things seem to have started falling apart ever since the divorce.
According to my scribblings, while we were deep in the affair fog, things were spectacular, but once she served him the divorce papers, it’s like things took a turn for the worst and only grew worse with time.
Justin just seemed to lose all interest, especially after everything was finalized. I thought he’d be happy then, happy that we could be together without having to hide, but instead, he started getting hung up on his kids as if he missed being with them.
He didn’t miss them those nights he spent with me before going home to her and their brats. I’m sure the kids were in bed by the time he got home because I made a point of keeping him out late, just so he couldn’t bond with them and get any ideas or feel any guilt about throwing them to the side.
I made sure he knew that I was more than ready to give him kids, kids that would never leave him, that I would never take away from him. I thought that would comfort him, but he only seemed to want the three bastards he already had with her.
Then, sex between us became almost nonexistent to the point where I was starting to panic. Sex was my only hold on him for now, so how else was I supposed to control him if he wasn’t fucking me? There was never any real intimacy between us anyway, just hardcore physical lust, which I was fine with because I was sure the rest would come with time once she was completely out of the picture.
