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  First there was the shock.

  Then the pain.

  Next comes resentment.

  Followed by the hate.

  Where is the revenge though? Where is the part where I had money stashed away in a dark corner for this very moment? Where is the handsome man in the butter commercials that’s going to swoop in and make me forget all about Mr. Shit Stains?

  While all of this is running through my head, I realized that I’d pulled up in my driveway. As the girls got out I checked my eyes and took a few deep breaths. I’d wait for everyone to go to sleep before I addressed the end of my marriage with my husband. Nothing he could say or do would ever allow me to forget the image of him, no matter how much time could pass.

  He’d cheated on me, in my own home, probably in my very bed that I put my head every night to sleep. He was scum, and I was literally in a world of a mess that I had no idea how I was going to get out of.

  After a few more very deep breaths, I walked inside of my home ready to put on the best show I’d ever performed. Fortunately, he wasn’t even on the first floor. Our dog, Samson, came up and sniffed my leg, while I relaxed my uptight stance, feeling a bit relieved. That’s when he came walking down the stairs, a big smile on his face, like I recognized whenever I’d been out somewhere.

  It hit me like a ton of bricks being thrown at my face. He’d done this to me over and over. “Hi, honey. I was wondering when you’d get back.” He walked over and kissed me on the cheek.

  I was frozen, unable to respond in any way. How could this monster act as if nothing was wrong? How could he look at me and feel no guilt whatsoever?

  “Sorry. The girls wanted food, so I stopped. Plus I need to go to the grocery store in the morning. We’re out of everything.”

  Was I standing there talking to that douche like nothing had occurred?

  Yes, I was.

  The downstairs became crowded with children, and I knew it wasn’t the time or place. Using a headache as an excuse, I went up to bed a little while later. I wanted to soak in the tub, but walking into my bathroom and remembering what had taken place made me collapse to the floor in a ball. He’d tainted our home, our family, and most importantly all of my dreams. This man that I’d promised to love for the rest of my life, for better or for worse, had destroyed me, and I had no idea how I was going to find an inch of hope out of it.

  My husband, whose real name is Charles, but we’ll go with Mr. Shit Stains for now, came to bed a couple hours later. By that time I’d turned to my side and pretended to be asleep. I was too exhausted from crying to talk about it. I just laid there, my eyes closed but never falling asleep, listening to him snoring as if nothing was wrong with the world.

  I imagined all of the ways I could kill him while he slept, first by smothering him with a pillow. He’d be too strong and push me off of him. Then I thought about slicing his throat. The mess would be too hard to get out of my five-hundred thread count sheets. I imagined dumping drain cleaner or anti-freeze into his open mouth, all the while laying there calmly next to him.

  Sleep never came.

  Knocking made me jump off the toilet and look up from inside of the bathroom stall. “Ma’am, you alright in there?”

  I’d been reliving the past night while still in the bathroom at the grocery store. I grabbed a wad of toilet paper before responding. “Yes, just finishing up.”

  It was embarrassing enough to have to take a number two in public, but to have someone talking to you while it was happening was just ridiculous. I waited for the woman to leave before stepping out, and then I did what every woman would have done in my situation.

  I hauled ass out of the store without going to the register or making eye contact with anyone I passed. Even though it was the most convenient to my house, I’d never go back there again in fear of personal humiliation from being known as the woman who got the shits.

  Chapter 2

  For the first two days I think I went into some kind of denial. I mean, if I blocked it out of my mind it didn’t hurt so much. I could pretend that nothing was happening and there was no way I’d ever have to move out of my wonderful home, and share custody of my beautiful children. They kept me busy, running them here and there, and for once I was grateful to have so much to keep me occupied.

  My time in denial came to a direct halt when my husband had to go on a business trip. Where I should have looked forward to not having to pretend to have headaches, or be too tired to communicate with him, I found myself dwelling on the fact that my neighbor was also out of town.

  I thought about burning her house down, dousing it with gasoline and watching the bitch burn to the ground. I mean, it certainly would have put a smile on my face knowing that in some ways I’d destroyed a part of her life that meant something, like she’d done to me. Even though I hated what he was doing, my heart still ached for that love that he was clearly giving her, which had once been all mine.

  The last straw was when I finally decided that I needed to know how long it had been going on, and if she was the only one.

  It took me literally two attempts to figure out his personal password on his separate bank account. Once inside I had to sift through charges that coincided with when we weren’t together. Sure enough, there were local hotel stays when he’d said he was working out of town, including the one he was currently staying at.

  Two miles away.

  That son of a bitch had been fucking my neighbor in a hotel that was within walking distance of our house. Anyone could have seen him.

  After pacing around the kitchen, flailing my arms and talking myself into a stupor, I decided that I had to get myself together. My mother, who was in a nursing home, after suffering from a stroke, was no help to me. My aunt, who’d always been the second person I’d turned to, was on a cruise with her new husband, and my brother was in Afghanistan working as a medical pilot.

  None of them could help me.

  I picked up my phone and sifted through my contacts, wondering who I could call for advice, but after considering that most of my friends were my children’s friend’s parents, I knew I didn’t want them knowing my business.

  I was going to have to take matters into my own hands if I wanted my kids to be able to come out of this without having to go into therapy.

  I don’t know what made me snap. Honestly I was fine one moment and the next I was in my mini-van driving straight to the hotel like a bat out of hell. Now, a smart person would have hidden their vehicle out of plain sight, or at least worn a disguise to prevent the person they were spying on from catching them.

  Obviously I wasn’t worried about being smart. Hell, if he would have walked out of that hotel the moment I spotted both of their cars I think I would have run them over, repeatedly, and then sped off, while they bled out.

  Reaching degrees for a boiling point was hard for me to do. I’d had years to practice being patient, tolerating more than a fair share of fights, sicknesses, and kid drama. I knew how to walk away and take a few breaths before losing control and doing something that I’d regret, but still some part of me needed a reason to feel empowered. I needed some kind of release, and I’m not talking about sexually.

  With no regard for who might be watching, including my fuckstick of a husband, I stepped out of my mini-van and walked over to his shiny BMW. We’d sacrificed a new kitchen so that he could splurge on that car. I knew exactly how much it meant to him to have it looking pristine all of the time. I assessed the vehicle, walking over to the passenger side. With my elbow, I knocked out the passenger side mirror, giggling when I looked back and saw how it was shoved into the component. For a women in her late thirties, I felt like a teenager, doing something I’d definitely ground my kids for doing.

  The mirror wasn’t enough for me though. I wanted the wow factor when he noticed the damage. I wanted his mouth to drop, as if he’d walked in and saw me blowing the pool boy or better yet, one of my son’s friends.

  For a moment my mind went to Mr
s. Robinson and I wondered if I still had that kind of hotness.

  I found a rock on the ground, small, but large enough to scratch the paint to hell. Being rational, I knew I couldn’t write cheater, or asshole without him knowing I’d caught him. Until I figured out how to pay for a lawyer and get my ducks in row, I wasn’t going to let him know I was onto his secret affair.

  Just as the rock made contact with the shiny black paint, my phone began to ring. It startled me, causing me to move my hand away from the vehicle.

  “Hello?” I assumed it was about my children.

  “Hey, honey, it’s me. I’m just checking in.”

  That mother fucker was in the hotel across the lot from me pretending he was away on business. It took everything in me not to blast him with the obvious truth and be done with it all. “Are they keeping you busy?” In other words, did Kate have her lips around his cock?

  “Yeah. It’s pretty intense. I don’t know if I’ll be able to call later. I’ll shoot you a text before I go to bed.”

  “I’ll wait up.”

  “Great. You’re the best, Lil. Love ya.”

  You-have-got-to-be-shitting-me.

  I stared blankly at the perfect paint job on his car. “Yeah, love you too.”

  With no regard for who could see me I took that rock and drew circles all over the door panel. The nerve of him was atrocious. He deserved much worse than I was giving him, and I needed to sort out my business before I could make any decisions.

  After driving away, and pouring all of my tears over the steering wheel of the mini-van, I decided that I needed to speak to an attorney before I could jump into any plans with my future. We had a hefty house payment, and the utilities alone were enough for someone to need two jobs. Then there were my children. As their mother, I wasn’t willing to spend one single day without them under my roof. I’d be damned if that son of a bitch was going to have them.

  However, I had no job; no means at all to make money. Sure, I could sue him and collect alimony, but my kids would still have to move; they’d be devastated over the breakup and I’d be taking them out of the only home they’d ever known. Someone like me, with no job experience could never afford to live anywhere remotely near where we resided, and I felt sick over imagining them choosing to stay with him over me.

  I used my cell phone to look up the names of lawyers that offered free consultation. I knew they probably weren’t the best at what they did, but it was definitely a start. I needed options and advice, before I picked my kids up from school and drove as far away from my husband as possible.

  Out of dumb luck, an attorney’s office had a cancellation right before I’d called. They told me if I was able to make it there in the next fifteen minutes I could get in to see one of the lawyers.

  I drove across town and was in the parking lot of the building within minutes. Then I just sat there, staring at the building and realizing what I was going in there for. Was I ready to end my marriage? If given the choice, would my husband choose to stay with me? Could we resolve things without breaking up our family?

  The answer was easy when I closed my eyes and pictured my neighbor’s lips sucking up his stiff dick. I climbed out of the mini-van determined that there was no way in hell I’d ever forgive him.

  The attorney’s office was busy. Two front desk girls sat next to each other, one having people fill out forms while the other stayed on the phone. After signing in, I sat down across from this woman that was applying lipstick and double checking her makeup. I found it odd that this was a divorce lawyer and she was primping, as if she were going to look her best for a divorce.

  She caught me looking as she put the tube of makeup away. “Let me guess.” She looked me up and down. “Your husband cheated?”

  At first I didn’t answer her.

  “Look honey, the sign on the door says Divorce Attorney. We’re all here for the same reason.”

  I nodded quietly, still unable to admit that my husband had betrayed me.

  “You can tell from your eyes that you’re hurting. I’ve been in those shoes. It sucks.” The front desk clerk called a name and the woman stood up. She walked toward me first. “Take my advice. Go to a salon and spend his money making yourself beautiful. Then look in the mirror and realize that you’re better off without him. It was the best decision I ever made.” She’d begun walking in the direction of the back. “I just wish it hadn’t taken me so long to realize it.”

  The room cleared out and I was the only potential client sitting there waiting. One of the front desk clerks grabbed a brief case and left with a man, who I assumed was one of the partners. The other cleared her throat to get my attention. “Excuse me, Mrs. Ross, I need to use the ladies room. Mr. Polleras will be with you shortly. If someone comes in, could you let them know I’ll be back in five minutes?”

  “Sure.” I watched her disappear down a hallway. The female that had given me the advice left promptly without speaking to me again. I found it odd, but maybe she’d gotten terrible news and just needed to distance herself from people to evaluate her options.

  When another figure appeared a few moments later I didn’t turn my head, assuming it was just the front desk clerk again. Then a deep raspy voice caused me to frighten from my seat. “Are you Mrs. Ross?”

  I looked over quickly, snapping my head forward as I gave him an answer. “Yes.”

  He held out his hand and I looked into his deep brown eyes, surrounded by dark olive skin. I wasn’t sure of his nationality, but based on his appearance he was either Italian or from somewhere close to that. His bright white smile revealed one crooked canine that gave his teeth character. I tried to smile like I wasn’t noticing his features, but I was certainly failing terribly.

  He was one of those men that a woman sees and can’t help herself. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Elias Polleras, but my friends just call me Eli. Come on back and tell me why you’re here today.”

  He led me down a long hallway, where other lawyers were inside of offices, meeting with clients. When we got to the last door on the left, he motioned for me to enter. Once I got seated in a large leather chair across from his desk, I looked around the room. Upon walking in, two chairs sat facing one another, while two more matching chairs faced his desk.

  Mr. Polleras sat across the desk from me and opened up a folder. He wrote down my name with a fancy gold pen and then looked directly into my eyes. “So tell me what’s brought you in today.”

  I folded my hands over my lap and looked down at my old jeans. I was hardly dressed for a meeting with a fancy lawyer. My brown hair was up in a fancy bun, and I was wearing my cleaning clothes, proudly displaying years worth of bleach stains on both my pants and my t-shirt. I refused to look up at him as I spoke. “My husband is having an affair.”

  I could hear his pen moving as he wrote. “You’re not the first person to come into my office for that very reason, Mrs. Ross. Unfortunately this type of thing happens more than I’d like to admit knowing to. Lucky for you there are people like me that are willing to do whatever it takes to make sure you are taken care of.” I knew he was talking professionally, but for some reason, after feeling so worthless, I imagined what it would be like to experience a man like him. I’d never considered cheating on my husband, but knowing that I never wanted to be with the man again left me wondering if there was ever going to be something else out there for me.

  “He’s fucking my neighbor,” I rudely announced, using profanity as if I spoke like that to professional strangers all of the time. “Sorry. I’m a little brutal these days.”

  Mr. Polleras began to laugh. “We’re grown-ups, Mrs. Ross. You can say fuck without judgment here.”

  Was it wrong that when he used that word I wanted to smile and ask him to say it again? I needed distractions, remember?

  I smiled, but still felt uneasy. Something was wrong with me if I couldn’t control myself. I had to get it together before this man told me to get lost. “I’m not usually so rude. It
’s just been a bad week.”

  “How about we start over and I ask a different question. Tell me the main reason you’re here. Do you want a divorce, Mrs. Ross?”

  I stared, with tear filled eyes out the window. “I don’t know. I guess. It’s all so surreal to me. I thought we were happy.” As stupid as it was I began to weep. That poor man did not go to work to hear my sob story, but I was giving it to him. I sat there and told him all about the shin guards and the shower scene that was scorched into my mind to replay again and again.

  He played with his pen as he listened, never writing anything else down. When I finally finished, he leaned forward and handed me tissues. “In my experience men don’t cheat because their wives aren’t good enough. They do it because they aren’t happy with themselves.”

  “I’ve heard that before.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  I wiped my eyes and shrugged. “What, do you know from experience?”

  I didn’t mean to ask if he’d been married before. For sure I wasn’t implying that, but as his eyebrow started to rise on the right side I realized the question went two ways.

  “I’ve never been married, Mrs. Ross. Before you rethink using me as your attorney I want to reassure you that I’m good at what I do. I spent my twenties building a name for myself, and my thirties wondering where my twenties went.” He laughed before continuing. “If you want me to represent you, I will do everything in my power to get you the best result. I know you feel like there is nothing to look forward to, but I’ve gotten my clients justice, and a means to have a comfortable life. You’re not the first mother to walk in here with nothing but the clothes on her back.”

  I shook my head and started crying again. “That’s just it. I don’t have a job. I met my husband when we were in college. We got married and started a family right away. He told me that he’d take care of the finances and my job was to take care of the house and our children. I have no means to pay you. We have separate accounts and he gives me a certain amount every month for expenses.” I stood up ready to leave. “I shouldn’t have wasted your time. I’m sorry.”