"You didn't go on a business trip," I shouted. "You were out fucking some little whore."
With an asinine smirk on his face, he slightly snickered.
"That’s preposterous," he replied, “why, I'd never do such a thing. Those are strong accusations. Where’s your proof?"
I nudged his briefcase and his eyes lit up with shock.
"Then open your briefcase," I said. "I'd like to see all those contracts you had to read through."
"Sure," he said. "I've got nothing to hide."
He reached down and turned the numbers on the combination lock of the briefcase. His hands slightly shaking as he slowly opened the lid.
My letter was in the center of his briefcase, untouched, with the heart-shaped seal still attached and my lipstick kiss. Everything still as the day I’d packed it. The jig was up.
As he saw the letter, his face changed, jaw dropping, eyes widening. There wasn't a word he could speak that would repair the current situation. He was a liar, and I’d made it absolutely clear.
"You just fucking chewed me out for not packing your vouchers," I said. "You obviously weren't doing business, otherwise you would have known I’d packed them for you in your briefcase. So, what were you doing?"
William looked down and remained silent for a while. His eyes were darting around, as if he were contemplating something.
For a moment I thought I might have seen him showing regret for lying to me, but I was mistaken. Maybe the look on his face was regret or shame for getting caught.
William pointed at my letter.
“What's that?" he asked. "You were in my briefcase?"
It was just like William to try and turn the argument around on me, like I’d been the one in the wrong. Well, I wasn’t going to let that happen, not again.
“If you had actually opened your briefcase, then you would have known.”
The wheels were still turning in William's head as if he were trying to construct another lie that might discredit my accusation.
"Well, do you have anything to say for yourself?" I asked.
"No," he replied. "This is over. Please have your stuff out of here by the end of the day."
I couldn't believe he’d talk to me like I was a hired hand, who had just gotten fired from his company. I wasn't one of his employees. I was his wife. How could he have the nerve to talk to me like that?
"I'm not fucking going anywhere," I replied. "This is my house too."
"Oh, yeah," he replied. "Whose name is on the mortgage?"
The patter of little feet came from the living room, Chloe wiping her sticky face on her pajama top, leaning her head back, squeezing the last few drops from a drink box into her mouth. Then she giggled and pointed at William.
"Look Mommy, Daddy’s home."
"Get back in the other fucking room," he shouted.
"Don't you dare talk to her that way," I replied.
Chloe screamed, her face turning red, throwing a tantrum, stomping her feet, shouting at the top of her lungs.
William grabbed Chloe by the hair and dragged her back into the living room. her high-pitched squeal echoed throughout the house.
I jumped on William's back, threw my arms around him, and dug my nails into his face, fighting to free Chloe from his grip, protecting my baby at any cost. Nobody was treating my daughter with disrespect and not paying the consequences. I'd do whatever it would take to save her from getting hurt.
William immediately let Chloe go and turned around and slapped me across the face with the back of his hand.
I’d frozen, holding my throbbing jaw, hoping the pain would lessen, shocked at what had just occurred. My face burned like fire, but it was still far less painful than the emotional scar that had been put on me by his deception. He’d broken my heart. I thought I was important to him, but now I knew the truth. He was just like all the rest.
I hugged Chloe, calming her down, making her a bowl of cereal, taking her in the living room, putting on some cartoons with the volume up, hoping to shield her from William’s nonsense. Then I went back into the kitchen.
The sound of William shouting obscenities made my neck hurt. After a few minutes, he’d cooled down, becoming silent. He reached toward me, and I jerked, thinking he was about to hit me again, but he didn’t. He put his hand on my shoulder.
“I’m sorry I pulled Chloe’s hair,” he whispered. “You just got me so upset. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
Chapter 10
What did I do to cause William to lose his temper? Me placing blame on myself again, I needed to work on my personal boundaries, so I wouldn’t continue to be his doormat.
William apologized to Chloe and promised to take her out to get an ice cream cone. It was something he often did when he felt guilty after blowing his stack, promising to make things better, buying his way into our hearts, thinking the pain would just go away. What he didn’t realize is that the pain didn’t just go away. I’d never forgotten the bad times. Never.
I decided to make Chloe some cookies, so I scrounged up enough ingredients to make a small batch. I couldn’t resist eating the cookie dough to mask my feelings. I’d always been an emotional eater. After fighting my craving to eat it all, I got the cookie dough ready, pulling out some cookie cutters, wielding a rolling pin, preparing them for the oven.
William and I needed to talk. He had some explaining to do. I wasn’t going to pretend nothing had happened. We needed to sort out our problems and make our marriage work. I wasn’t giving up that easily. I knew he loved me because he’d told me so many times before. Of course, It’d been a long time since those words came out of his mouth. Was it possible to fall out of love?
If he’d really loved me, he would have never cheated on me. I tried my best to justify his actions but couldn’t come up with anything that didn’t sound like bullshit. I noticed I kept blaming myself, which wasn't helpful.
Tears smothered my face as I sniffled, me whimpering in pain. My stomach ached, feeling like I couldn’t breathe. My whole world had changed for the worse. I kept thinking to myself, trying to find a solution, trying to figure out where I could go, trying to lessen the pain.
"We need to talk," I said.
William never acknowledged I had spoken, ignoring me like I’d never said a word, busy texting on his phone.
Since when did William text. He’d always been against texting and complained about it on a daily basis, always bitching about people not engaging in communication with one another anymore.
William didn’t believe in what he called new-age digital hooey. For instance, he’d refused to get a newfangled phone and commonly poked fun about people who had them. Most of his remarks were targeted at texting, and what a waste of time he believed it would be. He was above texting, somewhat of a technology snob. If someone wanted to talk to him, they knew his phone number. He wanted to talk to a human. He mentioned it was a way for everyone to squirm out of responsibility, because people text each other and voila, they vanish. He said it was a tool crafted to allow people to have no accountability. When he shopped for a mobile phone, he got the cheapest bottom of the line flip phone model that was rather large and outdated. When we were out in public, and he’d be talking on it, people would chuckle when they saw him holding it. William’s old-school sensibilities didn’t allow him to use most of the latest conveniences of life. Ironically enough, William’s business had to do with licensing software to Fortune 500 companies, which nobody would ever know by his lack of interest in technology.
I’d never gotten in the habit of using technology because my father wouldn’t allow it. He couldn’t afford the luxuries that most people took for granted. We didn’t even have a television when I was growing up. I’d lived a simple life, always just reading books, which I didn’t mind because I loved reading, so I wasn’t missing out on anything.
I leaned in closer and noticed William had a new phone. Him busy texting away like a popular schoolgirl, wearing the biggest grin on his face.
I wondered who was texting on the other side. William’s expression turned into a mischievous smirk. Whoever was texting him had pushed all the right buttons because he was putty in their hands. His shit-eating grin was disturbing me. I needed to know who was on the other end of those text messages.
I tried my best to be discreet, pretending I was cleaning up around the kitchen, seeing if I could get close enough to catch a glimpse of who he was texting, hoping to find out what they were discussing.
William continued to text with a silly look on his face like he was enjoying himself a little too much. I’d recognized that naughty expression. It was the way he used to look at me when we’d flirted with each other back when everything was fresh and new.
When I got closer, I saw some text containing a heart emoticon. Underneath was a selfie picture from some young, blonde whore who looked all-too-familiar to me. If she wore less makeup and had a different hairstyle, I’d bet it was our ex-babysitter Hannah. It all made perfect sense. Hannah had been out of town with her boyfriend. Could it be possible that William was actually Hannah's boyfriend?
Was I willing to stay in a loveless marriage with a cheater for security? Was I becoming desperate? Had I given up on life?
My blood was boiling, my teeth clinching, my hands balled up in fists, fighting the urge to smack him silly.
"Who are you texting?" I asked.
Before he could answer, I picked up his briefcase and smashed him over the head with it several times like I was swinging a sledgehammer down clobbering an anvil without any restraint, knocking the phone out of his hand, causing the contents of his briefcase to spill everywhere.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he shouted. “Have you lost your mind?”
I knelt down to get a closer look, making certain Hannah was indeed the one texting him. That fucking home-wrecking whore had taken my man away from me.
"You sick motherfucker," I said. "She's only a child."
William had become disoriented for a moment as he adjusted his glasses. One of the lenses was cracked.
"She's eighteen-years-old," he replied, "which is legal."
I couldn't believe he was trying to justify his involvement with Hannah. Just because, by law, it was legal to fuck her, it didn't make it okay. Did he even realize he was breaking our wedding vows?
His phone vibrated due to another text message coming in, buzzing on the linoleum. He reached down and proceeded to pick it up.
As he knelt down, I stomped my heel against his phone, shattering the screen. His face immediately turned red, and he pushed my foot off of his phone attempting to recover it. He picked it up and swiped his hand across the broken screen. It was somewhat unresponsive, blinking off and on, flickering pixels, illuminating the partially obscured message of lust and deceit.
William charged at me, ripping out locks of my hair with one hand, wrapping his fist around the other side of my hair. He yanked my head close to his face and whispered, "You fucking touch my property again, and I'll bash your fucking head in. Do you understand?"
I cried and whimpered, begging him to let me go. I’d definitely struck a nerve.
"Please let me go."
"We're through, bitch!"
William let go of my hair, pushing me over. I tumbled to the floor on my face. He proceeded to throw the locks of my hair at me that he’d ripped off of my head.
My reflection made me cringe. The chunk of hair he’d ripped out was significant. My body throbbed with pain from the fall, and my face ached. When I tried to stand up, a sharp pain was cutting through my hip, so I fell back down.
Just then, Chloe walked out of the living room holding a bowl of cereal. She looked down at me, and the expression on her face was a look of shock. I was crying my eyes out, holding my head. Chloe dropped the bowl and milk spilled all over the floor.
William grabbed Chloe by the back of her pajama top, pushing her face down into the puddle of milk. She choked, dry-heaving, as he pressed her face downward. Tears dropped down into the milk as William pushed her face down harder.
"You clean that up, now!" he shouted. “Everyone needs to be accountable for their actions.”
Chloe screamed high pitched and cried out.
"No, Daddy," Chloe screamed. "Please stop, Daddy. Mommy, please make Daddy stop."
My ears rang as my little girl’s voice pierced my eardrum.
"You get your damn hands off of my daughter, now!' I shouted, as I fought to get up.
I endured the pain in my hip, getting up as fast as I could. Nothing was going to stop me from protecting my baby. When I got to my feet, I warned William.
"If you don't let my baby go, I'm going to hurt you."
William didn’t seem to take me seriously. He just continued as if I hadn’t said a word.
I hobbled, reaching over, grabbing the rolling pin from the kitchen table, clobbering William’s noggin repeatedly until he loosened his grip from Chloe's head.
After he’d let go, I’d hit him a few more times, making sure I’d sent a clear message.
Chloe got up, reached her arms out, and ran straight into my stomach, burying her face into my shirt, crying her eyes out. She tried to speak but wasn’t able to, because she couldn’t catch her breath. I rubbed her back, trying to comfort her, hoping to calm her down.
“Mommy,” Chloe said. “You saved me from mean old Daddy.”
In that moment I realized how dysfunctional our family had become.
A sharp pain jolted me in the back of my head, knocking me forward, making me fall. William had struck me. My mind felt hazy, my vision blurry, my equilibrium was off, so I had difficulty functioning. I needed to get my head clear, so I could stand up.
He proceeded to spank Chloe as he dragged her away, her kicking and screaming.
“I hate you, Daddy,” Chloe shouted. “I hate you. You're a bad Daddy. Bad Daddy!”
“I don’t care,” he shouted. “Like mother, like daughter.”
I reached toward Chloe as they passed me, but couldn’t get a hold of her because William had blocked my path to her with his leg.
I cried out, “You win. I’ll go.”
William turned around, looking at me.
"That's a great idea," he replied.
I mustered up enough energy to get to my feet, still groggy but able to stand.
"Come on, Chloe," I said as I reached for her hand.
William blocked me.
"Chloe's not going anywhere."
"You can't stop me from taking her," I said. "She's my baby."
“She’s my baby too,” he replied. “Remember, I’m on the birth certificate as her father.”
“That’s not fair,” I said.
"I could always call the authorities," he replied. "You wouldn't want that, would you?"
Chapter 11
After the big blowout argument, Chloe had cried herself to sleep. William had immediately scurried into the other room to make a call on the house phone to the home-wrecking whore, and I threw away the cookies that had burned in the oven while we were fighting, well, at least half of them. I tried my best to salvage what I could because I didn’t want William to blow a gasket about wasting money.
William was well aware of my past incarcerations, so he knew how paranoid I’d become in the presence of the police. Knowing if he threatened me, I was sure to give in. I had a criminal record, through several circumstances beyond my control, and he was an upstanding citizen and business man. Whose word would everyone believe?
William was just trying to get under my skin, hoping to spawn paranoia. I hated to say it, but it worked. When I had been arrested in the past, it made a huge impression on me. Every time I’d seen a police officer since, I’d had the urge to run away. I knew it may not be right to feel that way, but I did.
Would William really call the cops on me? I sat at the kitchen table, drowning in self pity, my eyes burning from crying and lack of sleep. I’d lost my appetite. I was heartbroken. The saddest pa
rt had been that I didn’t even love him. I was in love with the idea of being in love. My bad feelings were most likely due to being helpless with no place to go. If only I could find a man that would take care of me and could love me unconditionally. How pathetic?
Everything had been revealed, and I realized William’s deception had gone past anything I’d ever imagined. How could he stoop so low? I’d always been a good woman to him, no reason for him to stray. I’d given all of myself to him, but apparently that wasn't enough.
I never knew he had it in him to be so heartless and cruel. Sure, there were times when he could be a dickhead, but he'd never did anything so heinous as cheating. I pondered to come up with a reason why he’d do such a thing, and all answers pointed to his penis. He just wasn't thinking straight. It had to have been pure animalistic lust, tempted by that gold-digging homewrecker looking to take my place. I couldn't believe he would give in to those temptations. Why was I making excuses for him?
William walked back into the room, laying a package on the kitchen table, reaching inside, pulling some papers out, and placing them on the tabletop. He pulled a pen out of his suit pocket and scribbled something on one of the table place-mats. His smirk grew wider, knowing the buttons he’d pushed, knowing it would affect me.
"If you leave right now," he said, "I'll make sure Chloe's well taken care of. If you want her to have a bright future, then you'll leave without causing a scene. Otherwise, she’ll most likely turn out just like you. Do you want that?"
William was right. If Chloe turned out like me, I’d be extremely disappointed. I thought over my options and didn't feel I had much of a choice. If Chloe left with me, I wouldn't even be able to feed her, let alone provide her shelter for the night. The circumstances didn't leave me much of a choice. My chest ached at the thought of leaving, I could hardly breathe, my nose running, my face smothered in tears. As it turned out, I’d not been the best mother, feeling ashamed, feeling unfit, feeling pathetic. I probably deserved all of William’s reprimanding and more.
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