by K. T. Red
“You bitch!” She stands quickly, making the baby cry.
“Well, let’s be honest here, Claire. Okay - you’ve got two very young children which I imagine must be exhausting but if a man isn’t being satisfied at home, he’s going to look elsewhere. Especially a man with Scott’s appetite.” I still smile sweetly, my voice calm and quiet even though my heart is thumping and I feel nauseous.
“You try being stuck at home all day with a screaming baby and being in the mood for a shag the second your husband gets in from work!”
Jesus, the poor girl. Scott’s not the nice man I thought he was. In fact, he’s really a bit of a bastard. How sad.
“No, Claire. I’m sorry but that just won’t do. Scott tells me that the last time the two of you had sex was at least three months before the baby was born. So I don’t think you can claim post natal depression, do you?”
She pales, her voice quiet. “He told you that?”
“He did. No wonder he’s playing away. He’s only flesh and blood.” I crank up the heat. “And what wonderful flesh!”
“Shut up! Shut up!” She paces the room as I relax into the sofa, crossing my legs slowly and suggestively.
“Why would he stay with a woman who refuses him when I’ll happily spread my legs for him and his enormous cock as often as he wants?”
“Shut up! Shut up! He loves me! I’m his wife!” It’s tearing me apart watching this poor woman’s emotions being put through the grinder.
“And let’s face facts, if it’s a choice between the two of us, you’re not even in the race. You’re pretty enough but you look tired and drained and that’s not attractive.”
“Shut the fuck up! You don’t know shit about me!” She’s very agitated, pacing and rocking the baby. There’s a lot more going on here than meets the eye. I need to push her harder.
“And I’m a very, very good fuck!” I take a deep breath. “And so is Scott - hung and hungry, just my type. Tell me, Claire, are you frigid?”
She halts. “What?”
“Or gay, perhaps? Or has he just served his purpose as a sperm donor and you have no further need for his services? If I had a husband with a huge cock and an appetite to match, I’d never leave the bedroom. You must have something sort of issue going on.”
That’s strange. She’s nervous and edgy now - not angry or upset. I’ve obviously hit a nerve.
“So, come on, Claire. What is it? Why don’t you want to have sex with your husband - the man you love, the father of your children?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about! I want you to leave now!”
“I’m not going anywhere until I know why you won’t let him go. I’d make him very, very happy. Sexually speaking, there’s nothing I won’t do as Scott knows only too well. He wouldn’t ever need to look anywhere else for satisfaction when he’s sharing my bed. He should be with me. You don’t seem to want him anymore. What type of wife doesn’t let her husband have sex with her for nine months?”
“Shut up, you fucking bitch!”
“Ooh - that hit home, didn’t it? If Scott’s getting his jollies elsewhere, I can’t help but think that maybe you are too!”
Chapter Twelve
She freezes, her eyes full of fear.
“Oh my God!” I burst out laughing. “That’s it, isn’t it? You don’t want him because you’re getting it from someone else! You don’t mind him cheating on you because it gives you the perfect excuse to cheat on him! Oh, Claire, that’s priceless.”
“He started it!”
I can’t stop laughing. “So, he cheats on you and you cheat right back. Tit for tat! Are you keeping a running score, Claire? I’d love to know who’s winning! I reckon that makes you the perfect couple, very well suited. Does he know or do you get more turned on when you play the victim?”
“Don’t you dare judge me! You’re fucking my husband!”
I shrug my shoulders - Emil would approve. “Someone has to. Why not me? You don’t seem to be particularly concerned about the situation.” She’s still wary and then a light bulb goes on and I understand. “Oh my God! The baby’s not Scott’s, is he? He’s the result of one of your revenge flings and that’s why you won’t sleep with him.”
Any sympathy I had for the woman evaporates. She doesn’t answer, she doesn’t need to. I stand and walk over to her. “He’s such a beautiful baby. You’re very lucky to have him.” I stroke the baby’s head and he turns to look at me. He is a beautiful baby with big blue eyes, bearing no resemblance whatsoever to either of his brown eyed parents. “Sit down, Claire. Please - before you fall down.”
She sits, clearly shaken. “What are you going to do?”
“I am going to do absolutely nothing.”
“What do you mean - nothing?”
“I don’t need or want to do anything. You, on the other hand, are going to do something for me.”
She sighs, knowing she has little choice. “You want me to let him go, don’t you? Well, why not. He’ll cheat on you as well. He can’t keep his cock to himself, never could. It’s in his nature.”
“No, Claire, I don’t want you to let him go.”
“I thought....I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
“I’ll be blunt. Scott has outlived his usefulness. I’ve met someone else but your husband is lingering around like a bad smell.”
She snorts. “Someone else’s husband, I suppose. You make me sick!”
“I hardly think you’re in any position to take the moral high ground, do you? You’re passing off another man’s child as your husband’s!” She flushes and looks away. “I want to make a deal with you. I think it’s time you made more of an effort and rekindled the spark in your marriage. I don’t care if you’re still fucking around on him, it’s not my business. He loves you - or so he says - so I think it’s about time that full marital relations were resumed.”
“And if I say no?”
“Then I’ll tell him that Jack isn’t his. For all I know, Katie isn’t his either. Neither of you seem to be capable of fidelity!”
“You wouldn’t!”
“Try me! You keep him satisfied in the bedroom and away from me. After all, a happy husband has no need to stray, does he?”
I can’t put into words how I feel as I retrace my steps down the path, turning back as I hear the door open. Claire walks after me. “Scott might be a bastard but he’s my bastard!”
I smile at her. “And you’re welcome to him. It’s the children I feel sorry for - whoever’s they are. Goodbye, Claire.”
Chapter Thirteen
I’m shaking and I feel sick as I walk home, needing to be in the fresh air. Jesus, what a fucked-up marriage. I had planned to just confront her and shock her into fighting for her marriage. I don’t know who I have more sympathy for or if I have it for either of them. Maybe they deserve each other. I’m no angel by any means but I deserve better than that.
I don’t remember the walk home, it passes in a haze as a whole range of emotions rattle my brain along with the wish that I’d worn flat shoes to work. I can’t wait to get home and curl up on the sofa with a beer. It’s been an eventful day to say the least - and it looks like it isn’t over yet.
“Well, hello there.”
“I have, as you can see, been bold enough this time to park on your drive, Peach.”
I’m smiling like a fool! “I can see that. This is a very pleasant surprise, Emil. I didn’t know you were coming round tonight.”
He’s gone all sheepish again. “I thought I would be spontaneous and surprise you. But you were not here and so I sat on your doorstep. My bottom is now quite numb!”
“I’ll kiss it better for you if you want. I went for a walk, a bit of a headache. I’m glad to see you, Emil.” I kiss him and pat his numb ass. “Very glad.”
“I bought you these.” He reaches in his car and fishes out the biggest bunch of roses I’ve ever seen. Peach roses.
“Oh, Emil!” He’s done it again. “They’re beautiful.”
“But not as beautiful as you.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“You can stop with the charm offensive, you shamelessly romantic Frenchman you!”
He fingers the collar of my blouse, trying to sneak a glance down the front. “I could not wait to see you again, Sarah.”
“The weekend is only two days away. Patience is a virtue, you know.” The roses are beautiful and so is he.
“It is not a virtue with which I am blessed, my love. The weekend is not two days away, it is two nights away. Two long, lonely nights, Peach.”
“True.”
He shuffles, sheepish again. “Your neighbours are looking at me!”
I burst out laughing. “They’re probably wondering if they have enough time to run out and buy ear plugs!”
“Are you going to let me in or do I have to beg?”
“I’m sorry, Emil, but no, I’m not going to let you in.” His face falls. I reach into my handbag and press something into his hand. “You can let yourself in - whenever you want.”
He pulls me into a big hug as I hold the roses out of the way, wanting him to never let me go. “Oh Sarah! Thank you.”
“I kept it for you - just in case you ever wanted it again.” I kiss him, not caring if the entire neighbourhood is watching. “Now, open the damn door and let’s get inside so we can carry on where we left off this morning.”
There’s a stupid grin on his face that matches the one on mine as he puts his key in the lock and opens the door. I shriek with laughter as he scoops me up into his arms and carries me into the house.
“Welcome home, my beautiful girl.” And moments later, when he slowly slides inside me before we even get halfway up the stairs, I know that’s where I am.
Home.
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