A Womans Scorn

I lay in my empty bed facing the side where my husband should be but wasn’t. I held a pillow to my face as I cried into it. This was the third time this week that my husband wasn’t home. He had called said he had to ‘work late’ again but I was beginning not to believe him. My body shook with my cries, I really couldn’t believe that I could cry this hard again, I should be passed out by emotional strain right now but the tears just kept flowing.

I heard the knob on the door begin to turn and quickly turned to the other side. The clock in my vision now, 1:30 a.m. the bright green letters flashed at me. I tried to stifle my cries and pretend I was asleep. I heard him go into the bathroom and turned to see he had left the door open. He stood there looking into the mirror before splashing water on his face. I wondered what he was trying to wash off. I turned back around when he went to the toilette.

Soon, he was in bed. I tried to snuggle against him but he turned his back. I could smell a small amount of alcohol and something else. Something sweet and floral, perfume maybe, no it couldn’t be, it just couldn’t! I bit my lip before I began to cry again, turned around and shut my eyes tightly. Finally sleep came, but it was not a restful sleep, I tossed and turned and had bad dreams.

The morning light woke me up. I opened my eyes and grabbed my head; it pounded from the lack of good sleep and the stress that I had been going through. I looked over and saw that my husband was already up. I heard the shower going and decided to go down and make some coffee.

After I had half of my first cup of coffee finished my husband came trotting down the stairs, looking refreshed and handsome as ever.

“Good morning!” He said with a smile.

“Morning.” My voice was groggy.

“Not feeling well?”

“Not really.”

“Sorry I wasn’t here last night. You know though, work’s been hell.”

“Yeah right, I know.”

“Grumpy! Why don’t you go back to bed?”

“Couldn’t sleep if I did.”

“Oh well, that’s your loss isn’t it?” He smiled teasingly at me.

“Asshole.”

“Oh come on! I’m just playing with you.”

“I’m not in the mood to play.”

“Well then.” He looked distraught for a minute. He cleared his throat. “Ummmm…I promise I’ll be home early tonight and I’ll rub you down and make you feel better.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Jesus girl! Lighten up!”

“Whatever.”

“Yeah right, whatever. I got to go.” I could see the anger in his eyes and I was happy for a moment. I hoped I’d made him feel as shitty as I did.

As soon as he left I popped a couple of Excedrin and got another cup of coffee. I went to my computer to begin my own work. I opened the file I was working on the day before. Going through reading what I had put down, proofing a little but knowing the column would be proofed after it was completed any way. This was good because at the moment I couldn’t concentrate on anything.

My eyes kept going to the closed bathroom door in the bedroom. My husband had gotten undressed in there last night, and I had an undying urge to go look through them. My urge gave in and I got up quickly, a little too quickly for my headache, the aspirin hadn’t set in yet, and my head spun for a minute. I grabbed the corner of the computer desk to steady myself.

When the dizziness had gone away I noticed a piece of paper sticking out from beneath the keyboard. I picked it up and read it, “Tuesday 8 p.m. Four Seasons.” It was scribbled in my husband’s handwriting. My heart dropped and I wondered what the piece of a paper meant. Four Seasons was easy, hotel, there was only one that I knew of in the Metro area. Was he screwing around on me and this is where they were meeting or was it where this so called meeting at work was held last night? My head spun again but this time from the possibility of having a clue that could possibly lead to the fact that my husband was cheating on me.

I went to the bathroom and threw open the door, grabbing his clothing I began to rummage through the pockets of the pants. I pulled out a card. This card was meant to open the door of a rented room in a hotel. I turned it over and read, “Four Seasons.” My stomach turned. I put my hand in the other pocket and pulled out nothing but some change. I went to the shirt and checked in the chest pocket but nothing was in there either. I put the shirt to my nose and inhaled deeply. There was that same smell that was on my husband last night. I smelt his cologne, Drakkar; I had bought it for him. It was my favorite men’s cologne. But there was another smell, a smell of perfume. I took another whiff, I didn’t know which perfume it was. My stomach tightened more, my knees grew weak, this just couldn’t be happening. One of the ladies that worked with my husband must wear the same perfume and he was just sitting next to her last night. Yeah, that had to be it. It couldn’t be anything else.

I went back to the computer but now I really couldn’t concentrate on my work. I decided to read my e-mail instead, maybe it would calm my nervous down to read something my Dad or Grandpa sent to me.

I clicked on the internet icon and took a sip out of my coffee. Not looking I pushed the right button down on the mouse again to log on. I thought that I had been the last one on the net so my sign-in and password should have been the one that was pulled up.

I remembered then that I had to do some research for the project that I was writing on and bypassed the mail for a second to go to google.com, my favorite search engine. I typed in what I need to read and then scrolled down to find the page that I thought would give me the most information on the subject. I didn’t read the page but saved it to favorites and looked up something else to counter what I had just looked up; you can never have too many pages when researching things. I did this for about thirty minutes before I decided to do what I had jumped on to do, check my e-mail.

I clicked on the little mailbox, opened the inbox, and took another sip of my coffee. I wasn’t paying too much attention, I shouldn’t have had to. Getting mail from the internet was like pouring a glass of milk to me. I clicked on the first letter. I hadn’t recognized the e-mail address and there was no subject but that didn’t mean too much to me, I got e-mails like those all the time. I picked up my coffee cup again, empty, I pouted. Coffee is my staple, without it I’d be a mess. I got up, leaving the letter open, and went down stairs to refill my cup. I hummed as I poured the coffee into the cup then doctored my cup with two spoonfuls of sugar and milk. I took a sip and smiled at the hot strong taste of the coffee.

I bounced back up the stairs, my headache gone, Excedrin is a great thing, and the thoughts of my husband pushed far back in my head. I have never been one to dwell on things that made me sad or angry. I sat back down at the computer, lit a cigarette and began to read the letter. Within the first two words I realized that this was not my inbox, but my husband’s, with the first sentence my heart began to pound and the cigarette that I was just about to bring to my lips fell from my hand. I jumped as I felt the hot tip of the cigarette hit my leg. Quickly I recovered the cigarette from the floor and took a drag off of it before reading the rest of the letter. I exhaled the smoke in a slow fashion as my eyes darted over the words. I felt my stomach churn again as I reread what was before me. “Hi Dan!

I’m so excited to finally meet you this Tuesday! I hope you like me as much in person as you do in our letters together. So, what are we going to do? Hehehehe…don’t tell me I know! Mmmmm…can’t wait to feel you inside me, and do all the things we’ve talked about! Love, Kristy”

I lit another cigarette, my nerves were reeking havoc on me, my hands shook, my eyes wouldn’t focus, I should have stopped there but I didn’t. I went to the sent file and read his response.

“Hey Babe,

I know I can’t wait either. I’ve already to the wife that I had a late meeting and not to wait up for me. So, I’m covered on that end. I’m sure I’ll like you just as much in person, esp if you look anything like the pics you sent. I can’t wait to feel those lips on my cock Baby. I’m going to fuck you till you can’t stand anymore. You have no idea how many times I’ve fantasized about seeing you naked before me! Love, Dan.”

Pictures? I went to the picture files and found nothing but some pictures of me and him on vacation and whatnot. That didn’t hold with me, I knew he had them somewhere on this computer. I pulled up search and typed in Kristy. I was impatient at how long the search was taking but finally it pulled up the little bitches name and symbol for picture in front of it in a file I never knew existed on the computer, he had hid them well, but not well enough. I clicked on it to see the woman my husband was fucking.

I looked at her, and if it could have happened I would have caught the computer on fire with look I was giving it. There stood the cunt that was fucking my man. She was naked, I figured about the same age as my husband and I, 24. She stood there eternally staring at me with a stupid ass smile on her face. Her long blonde hair curling down her shoulders, even from the picture I could tell she dyed her hair. She was thin, with a tanning bed tan and had a nice set of boobs. I guessed just by looking at them that they were probably about a B or C cup, still smaller than mine since I ring in at a D. Her dark nipples stood erect in the picture. I couldn’t see her ass but figured that it was firm; she had the legs that looked like she probably ran laps or walked on a treadmill daily. But that was the only part of her that looked like she exercised. I could tell from the picture that though flat, her belly was soft, and her arms had no definition to them. She didn’t exercise as vigorously as I did. Now that I thought about it her legs were probably just toned from all the walking over the hearts of wives when she stole their men from them. I got up and ran to the bathroom. I was literally sick from this ordeal but I kept punishing myself.

I went back to the inbox and pulled up another letter. This one was sent from my husband.

“When are we going to get together? I want to feel your pussy sliding along my cock.”

I went back to the inbox, why didn’t he ever get rid of these? There was the letter she had sent him from the response I had just read.

“I want to fuck you. I mean, really fuck you. Not just in the letters but in real life. We live close enough together to do it. All you’d have to do is get away from your bitch wife.”

Bitch Wife? What the fuck was she talking about? I went back to the sent box and scrolled down a couple of letters, finding one that had a subject that read, “My situation.” I talked under my breath, “Yeah lets just see what your situation is you fucking bastard. I know what kind of situation you’re about to have. You stupid fuck.”

“Look I want to be totally honest with you, Kristy. See, I’m married, but my marriage isn’t doing too well, and we’re about to separate. My wife has been a bitch towards me for the past six months. She doesn’t give out anymore and I don’t think that she loves me anymore. I just wanted to let you know that I was married and if this bothers you, I’m sorry.”

What the fuck! Not doing well? I’m a bitch? I don’t give out? I don’t love him? What the goddamn hell was going through his fucking mind when he wrote this? It was all a bunch of lies. I looked at the date of the letter and started crying, he wrote it not two hours after we had made love, and made love very well I might add. What was he trying to pull here? Was he just seeing if he could get this woman to feel bad for him and fuck him while he had no regards for me? While I lay in the bed not one foot away from the computer that he was typing all these lies on. Sleeping peacefully after I had fucked him!

It was too much for me then I couldn’t read anymore. But that didn’t mean that I still couldn’t print them out. I opened every one of his letters to her and letters from her and began to print out every single one. I grabbed an envelope and stuck them inside, marking it as “finished work” incase he found the file. He wouldn’t read it if he thought that it was for my work. I decided then the next step I was going to take. Obliviously they only communicated through e-mail; I hadn’t seen a phone number in any of the letters. I was going to wait and check his e-mail daily for their next encounter with each other.

I had dinner made and waiting on the table when he showed up. He kissed me on the cheek and it took all I had not to punch him right then. He felt my cringe as his lips touched my cheek, lips that touched her the night before.

“Still not feeling well Hon?”

“You could say that.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

I have a cheating no good bastard as a husband that’s what’s wrong with me.

“Maybe the stomach flu or something. I’m not a doctor.”

“I’m sure it’ll pass by tomorrow.”

No it won’t.

“Yeah probably.”

We were silent through dinner. I kept my head down staring at the food that I wasn’t eating. He stared at me. I looked up at one point and stared him straight in the eye. His went down to his plate. I felt sicker than I had when I found out what he’d been doing at his late meetings.

When dinner was through I got up, preparing to wash the dishes.

“Don’t do anything Baby girl. I’ll do it since you don’t feel good.”

“Thanks.” I said softly and went into the living room. I flipped to the channel that one of my favorite shows was on, “Great Eats” with Alton Brown. Half way through it my husband came out of the kitchen.

“Oh I like this show.”

“Yeah me too.”

“What’s coming on next?”

“Oliver’s Twist.”

“I like that show too.”

“I know.” I could barely talk to him. My anger was starting to boil over.

How could he just sit there all nonchalantly when just last night he was fucking some other woman? Did he have no shame? No guilt! I couldn’t believe it.

He came over and lifted me with ease from my position and sat behind me. He laid me back down on him and began to massage my neck and shoulders. His hands came around front and rubbed my belly. Then up to my breasts. My body shook with anger and I pulled away from him quickly.

“Whoa! I was just trying to help you feel better!”

“Well you’re not.”

“What’s wrong with you? You were snippy with me this morning and now tonight.”

“I’m just sick.”

“Sick of what? Of me?”

Yeah with you, you stupid mother fucker.

“I told you I don’t feel good.” I said through gritted teeth.

“Not feeling well never stopped you from my advances before.”

“This is different. I feel really really sick. And why would you ask if I was sick of you? Seems an odd question to ask someone. Have you done something that would make me sick of you?”

“No not at all. Well….”

Here it was maybe he’d come clean now.

“Well what?”

“Except for try and touch your tits while you don’t feel good.” He smiled and lifted his eyebrows.

At any other point I would have laughed at him, but not tonight.

“That wouldn’t make me sick of you.”

“Geez woman have a sense of humor.”

“I’m not finding anything funny at the moment.”

I moved to the other end of the couch and huddled up so that no part of my body was touching his. I began to watch my show again. Angry at him once more for making me miss most of the end. He tried to pull my feet to him to rub them, but I wouldn’t let him. Finally he gave up and just sat there staring at the TV with a pout. I looked at him in disgust.

I couldn’t watch the rest of “Oliver’s Twist.” I couldn’t stand to be in site of him. I got up to leave.

“Where you going?”

“To bed.”

“Want me to tuck you in?” He smiled again.

“No, I think I can do it by myself.”

He looked at me confused and shook his head. He stood up to kiss me but I moved to quickly and headed up the stairs. He was still standing there looking into nothing.

I still couldn’t sleep. I didn’t even dose off like I normally do. Sometime in the night I heard the typing of the computer keys and opened my eyes just enough to see him sitting there looking at the screen. He sat there, naked, with a smile on his face, typing away happily to his girlfriend. I sighed deeply and felt the tears swell in my eyes again. I couldn’t help but imagine what he was writing.

The next morning I laid in bed till he left, pretending sleep, while he showered, dressed, and got ready to go to work. After I heard the car pull out of the garage I got up. I booted the computer and went down to make coffee as I waited for the computer to come on. I had some work to do before I could log on to my husband’s account. I thought about how stupid he was. If he was going to find someone to have an affair with he should have gone and gotten a free e-mail account or not saved his password into the computer.

Before I could log into his e-mail account the phone rang. It was him.

“Hello.”

“Hi.”

“How are you this morning?”

“Still not feeling well.”

“Maybe you should go to the doctor.”

“No, I think it’ll pass.”

“You never know. You might need medicine.”

“I don’t like doctors.”

”I know. But sometimes you have to see them.”

“What I have I don’t need a doctor for.”

“Oh that time of the month huh?”

“No.”

“You’re confusing me.”

“Just drop it. What did you call for?”

“To see how you were, and you’re still grumpy so I’m getting off of here. Oh by the way I have another meeting tonight.”

“Whatever.”

“Well, okay then. Bye.”

“Bye.”

“Hey!”

“What?”

“I love you.”

“I bet.”

I hung up the phone and stifled a cry. I logged into Dan’s e-mail account again and went to sent messages. There it was right in front of me.

“The same hotel, same room, same time, tomorrow. Love, Dan”

I went to the inbox and pulled up the letter she had sent back.

“Mmmm..can’t wait! See ya then.”

I was seething, my teeth grinded together, and I could feel my face was hot with rage. I couldn’t focus my eyes for a minute as the anger passed through my body. I picked up the phone and called information.

I got the phone number to the Four Seasons hotel and pushed one to automatically direct my call. A lady at the front desk answered.

“Four Seasons, how may I help you?”

“Yes this is Kristy…” I opened the letter on the computer and saw that she had her last name on her e-mail account. “Sullivan. I needed the room number for Daniel West. I’m meeting him there tonight and I forgot what room he was in.”

“Oh no problem Miss Sullivan hold on one minute and I’ll get that for you.”

“Thanks.”

A few seconds later she was back on the line.

“Miss Sullivan?”

“Yes.”

“The room number is 455.”

“Thank you so much Dear.”

“You’re very welcome and I look forward to seeing you again this evening.”

I thought, “No you’re not.”

“Yes, well, I’m looking forward to seeing you too. Good-bye now.”

“Good-bye.”

I hung up the phone and paced the room for an hour. I decided that I was going to try and stop this before it went any further and called my husband at work.

“This is Dan.”

“Hi.”

“Oh hi. Are you okay?”

“No I’m not. I’d like it if you came home.”

“But I can’t.” He hesitated. “I have that meeting tonight remember.”

“Oh yeah the meeting.” I said through gritted teeth.

“I’m sorry Baby.”

“Look, I really need you to come home. I’m feeling worse and I think that I might have to go to the hospital or something.” I hated lying but it was the only way to get him home.

There was true concern in his voice. “Oh! I’m coming. I’ll be there in an half and hour.”

“Good.”

I hung up and went downstairs. Grabbing another cup of coffee and waiting for him on the couch. In exactly half and hour he walked through the door.