When a Woman's Fed Up

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
A woman wants to hold on to her man, no matter the cost.

Submitted: November 08, 2014

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 08, 2014



I pace up and down the living room, awaiting his arrival. My day has been spent shopping for steak, wine and various other items that make up your average romantic night in. I am wearing his favourite perfume, the kids are at my sister's for the night... But now my excitement mixes with anger and disappointment. Where is he? He says he is working late and will be here as soon as he can, but I know exactly where he is. He's with her. I try to maintain my composure, but as my guts churn and my heart aches I grab a bottle of wine and pour myself a large glass. Within seconds I am pouring myself another. As the alcohol burns into my stomach, my mind starts to spin, paranoid thoughts cementing themselves into my brain. Why her? What makes her so special? He's still with me so obviously not that much. After the third glass, the bottle is empty and I am now a shadow of the vision I had created only an hour ago. I collapse in a heap on the kitchen floor, my expertly coiffed hair now a dishevelled wreck strewn across my tear soaked face, my once perfect make-up now melted into a filthy artist's palette. How could I let him do this to me? I shouldn't teach my children that this behaviour is acceptable. It's not. But after all these years, my heart belongs to him and only him. Her feelings for him are irrelevant, they will never have what we have. Cracking open the second bottle of wine, my anger intensifies. He was supposed to be here three hours ago. I can't take anymore. Grabbing the car keys, I stumble out of the house, vision blurred, legs like jelly. I start the car and floor it out of the driveway. I'm done with this, no-one is going to treat me this way. Horns blare and lights flash past me as I attempt to drive like a sane, sober, functional person. Somehow, I make it to the house unscathed. Just as I suspected, his car is in the driveway. My blood is practically boiling over as my heart thumps in my chest. The house is quiet, but as I circle the home I notice a light in the master bedroom, two shapes moving together towards the bed. What little poise I had left disintegrates and a moment of weakness leads me to hurl a plant pot through the kitchen window. I climb through, cutting my leg in the process. I hear footsteps rushing down the stairs.

\" Sarah? What the hell are you doing?!\"

\" What am I doing, Steven? I've waited all night for you, I'm not going to be used like this anymore.\"

I shove past him, running up the stairs into the bedroom. I find her lying on the bed, her face a vision of horror as I reach behind my back, pulling out the knife. No more, I think as I bring the blade down again and again. He tries to stop me but my urges become more uncontrollable and my attack more frenzied.

\" He is mine! Mine!\" I scream at her. She is already gone, and yet I can't stop. Eventually I give in and drop the knife. I am covered in her blood as I look at him. He is in a shivering heap on the floor, crying, screaming, indistinguishable noises escaping from his mouth. I smile as I wrap my arms around him. He looks at me in terror. He doesn't understand, but he will. I am no-one's sloppy seconds. I am no-one's other woman. I am his wife and no other woman will come between us again.

Especially not his mother.

© Copyright 2017 Emmylou1985. All rights reserved.

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