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Fucker, they’ve been sick before, and your ass was too busy getting some strange to notice or care. I didn’t say any of what I was thinking out loud. “Great, I’ll go get changed.” I left and went to my bedroom to get changed alright, but not the way he thought, I was sure.
I slipped out of the palazzo pants and silk blouse and slid into a short yellow sundress. You know the type: spaghetti straps, cleavage on point, a cinched waist, and falls to just above the knees with a flare that could go either way. If I bend too low, you’d see all my particulars, and if a high wind blew, I’d do a Marilyn Monroe in this bitch.
I found another pair of fuck me sandals and headed back to the movie room to mess with his head. “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“You’re forgetting; this is your weekend; I have plans.”
“But Jason is sick.”
“Yeah, and you’ve got it.” I left before he could bitch anymore. I had no damn plans and drove around like I was lost for the first ten minutes before deciding that some retail therapy was just what I needed. Something that will kill a few hours while he sits at home stewing about who I’m with.
I turned my phone off because I knew damn good, and well, my kid wasn’t sick and knew even more that it would piss him off. Too bad for him I’m no longer his wife and don’t have to answer to him for shit.
After filling my trunk with packages filled with more crap my kids weren’t going to use or wear, I decided to treat myself to a nice meal out, taking my sweet time. By the time I pulled into the driveway, the sun was going down.
The house was pretty quiet when I walked inside, not a peep coming from above stairs, and from the looks of things, he’d fed the kids dinner already and put them to bed. There was no sight of him, though, but I knew he was still there because his car was still in my driveway.
I checked on the kids, but still no sign of him until I walked into my bedroom and was attacked from behind. “Where the hell have you been all day, huh?” He wrapped his arm around my middle, the other went up under my skirt, and he tore my panties off.
I knew from the way he was feeling around he was checking to see if my pussy was dirty from ‘Tim.’ “What in the world are you doing?” I stifled my laughter as best I could. “You can smell me? I showered.”
“What the fuck?” I got myself bent over the end of the bed this time.
I’ve had more sex with my ex in the last three months than I did in the last two years when he was my husband. I had to muffle my screams in the bed because he was doing his best to outdo ‘Tim,’ and my poor cooter was paying the price.
I guess he had a lot of pent-up energy because when he was done, he dragged me off to bed and started in on me all over again. I hope that lonely bitch was home losing her damn mind.
“I’m staying the night.”
“The hell you are. Don’t you have a woman to get home to?”
“She doesn’t live with me. And can you stop throwing her in my face every second?”
Well, what do you know? He’s tired of hearing her mentioned. I had to live with that shit for the past three years. Buckle up, fruitcake; I’ve only just gotten started. “Take your dirty dick and get the hell on. I like sleeping by myself.”
“What about your precious Tim?”
“He doesn’t sleep here. I’m waiting to get the kids used to him first. Don’t want to rush things, you know.” Well, that did it. Now, my legs are bent all the way back to my ears, and the coot is getting the pounding of her life.
CHAPTER 5
Welp, I knew this day had to come sooner or later. “Callie!” I turned at the sound of my name. I’d know that fishmonger voice of hers anywhere. Why is it that when men cheat, they go low? Is it because no self-respecting woman with class would sleep with another woman’s husband? Or because these bottom-feeding skanks are all that are on offer?
I should make his ass pay for cheating on me with this thing with teeth and not finding someone up to my standards. I’m not sure if that makes it worse. Our mutual friends had dragged her for filth in the beginning and still do on occasion unless I shut them down, and he’s become kind of a joke for throwing me over for her.
Now, I don’t think looks are all that matter, which I guess was her point the one time she got through to me on social media to brag about how my upper-class upbringing and having the best of everything hadn’t saved me from her and she’d been able to steal my husband away. At least she knew she was not my equal and not because of her subpar looks or the fact that she comes from a lower socioeconomic background. But for the mere fact that she would stoop so low as to sleep with a married father of three.
Now, I never said a cross word to this woman for screwing up my life. Why? Because she didn’t take vows with me. I didn’t even give Justin a hard time; I grieved in silence until the day I gave him the divorce papers. By then, I had come to terms with the demise of my marriage and was already working on plan B.
No one knows how much I suffered in silence, but I knew that going off on a tangent wasn’t going to un-fuck her, and nothing was going to change the fact that my husband, the man I trusted my heart to, had betrayed me.
I could’ve stayed for the kids, but what good would that have been with me being unhappy and him running the streets because I was dumb enough to give him an easy pass?
The only time I ever spoke to this thing was the day she tried disciplining my son because he refused to acknowledge her presence, which led to her being trespassed from my property.
“What do you want? Are you stalking me again?” She would have to be. How else would she know that I was out running errands? I fixed my shirt so the hickey I’d been hiding in polite society was on full display and what do you know, that’s exactly where her gaze fell.
