by Marnie Cate
I loaded a tray with eggs, bacon, and toast. I even made Jeremy's favorite Bloody Mary, light on the vodka. I set the tray down and climbed onto the bed next to him.
"Wake up, sleepy head."
"Mmm," he moaned.
"I made you breakfast in bed." I trailed my fingers along his cheek and circled his lips. His eyes closed again. I needed to be a more aggressive alarm clock. I lightly drug my nails down his chest, down his stomach. His body shuddered as I lowered my touch and retreated.
I knew what he expected me to do next and submitted.
When I asked girlfriends how they felt about the obligatory blow job, I received mixed reviews – indifference to grandiose feelings of power and control. I loathed myself for succumbing to an act that made me feel dirty.
The thought that the whore he picked up last night probably had her mouth on my husband the same way, made me abandon my task.
Jeremy growled in frustration, "Tease."
I slipped up his body and pressed my mouth to his neck. "Your breakfast is getting cold." I continued to tease and taunt his now hardening manhood.
In a fast movement, he flipped me over and was on top of me. His piercing blue eyes locked with mine.
Once again, I let myself believe I was all he wanted and needed. Nothing would break us. I promised myself I would be a better wife…a better lover. I would not end up like my mother – alone.
"What do you mean you're giving notice," Thomas snapped, slamming his fist on the desk.
"Jeremy has been promoted and we are moving to L.A.," I explained.
"So, you telecommute. There, problem solved." He rubbed his hands together, dismissing the issue.
"No," I said, forcing myself not to cry. "Jeremy needs me to play a more active role. Appearance is everything in his line of work."
"Well, I am not accepting your resignation. You will die if you do nothing, but play wifey," he countered.
"What if you got a great job offer and you need Jacob to support you?" I sighed.
"I would never ask my husband to give up his dreams to chase mine, Cat. I believe in win-win, hun. What does he expect you to do with your time?"
"Plan dinners. Workout. Keep the house well maintained and running…I don't know, Thomas. All I know is that Jeremy is my husband, and we have to make it work." I wanted to confess everything that had happened, but I knew it would not end well. Thomas would tell me I was selling myself, and he would've been right.
"Well, I'm still not taking your resignation. You're on leave. If you want to sneak in editing time, you know it will be here for you." Thomas pushed his chair back and sat in the guest chair next to me. He wrapped his arms around me, and I fell into his embrace, hugging him back. "You would tell me if there was something wrong, right?" He smoothed my hair back and kissed me on the forehead.
"I just don't want to let anyone down."
"Crazy Cat, you don't have to worry about me. Like I said, you're on leave. If I need you, I know you will be there. Will you finish out Winter's latest and greatest before you go? You know he needs your finesse to smooth out his 007 edges." He laughed and released me.
"Of course, I'll keep my commitment," I promised. Biting my lip, I contemplated my next words.
"Spit it out," Thomas ordered.
"Let's not tell Jeremy. I don't want him thinking I am distracted from his needs," I blurted out.
"Fine," he said, extending the word as if he wanted to ask more questions. "I'll keep it a secret. How will I pay you?"
"Don't."
He frowned and shook his head.
"Fine. Pay me cash, then? Save it for me? I'll collect it when I come visit."
"You know I really can't…"
"It's the only way to keep Jeremy out of it. He handles the money. He would know the minute I got the tax return. I don't need the money. Hold onto it for a rainy day, ok?"
Nodding, he said, "Rainy day. I hope you aren't expecting a flood and not telling me."
"No storm clouds in the sky." I smiled.
I would handle everything. Living with my mother had prepared me for a life just like this. But, unlike her, I would control my future. Jeremy would never stray again. I wouldn't let him.
Eighteen
Moving to L.A. was easier than expected. Jeremy handled everything. He picked out the furniture. Made me a list of the local stores he wanted me to shop at. He even signed me up for a gym and a spa.
My days were scheduled. Mornings were focused on Jeremy's needs. No matter how tired I was, I made sure he wanted for nothing. He had no reason to search outside our bedroom. He woke to a beautiful wife with a healthy sex drive who cooked and kept the house in perfect condition.
When he left, I joined him in the chauffeured town car. He was dropped off at the office and I was delivered to the gym. I spent my mornings on cardio and beauty treatments.
Every other week, I had my hair trimmed. Jeremy insisted I have laser hair removal treatments to keep my skin smooth. I refused to have lasers near my intimate areas so I endured the torturous waxings. I lost weight, toned up, and looked like I belonged in Beverly Hills.
After six years of marriage, we had fallen into a routine. Jeremy loved me being at his beck and call. I kept my editing a secret, but even Thomas was pleased with my new life.
One evening, in bed after we made love, Jeremy sat up and stared down at me.
"What?" I questioned nervously.
He held my breasts in his hands, massaging them. "Let's see if we can make these perkier. I've heard Botox is used now, or we could get you some implants."
"I think they are plenty big enough," I said, not hiding my irritation.
"Just saying you aren't getting any younger." He smirked. "I need to keep my hot young wife. I can't have a seven on my arm."
Before I could stop myself, I relented. "I'll look into the options, Jeremy."
"Good girl." He kissed my forehead. "Now, let's see if there are other areas that need attention."
Forcing a seductive smile and a giggle, I played along as Jeremy inspected me for flaws. After he confirmed I passed his test for perfection, we once again made love. When I knew he was deep asleep, I slipped out from our bed and went to inspect myself in the mirror.
"Fuck it." I wiped the tears from my face. "I'll never be good enough."
Throwing on a t-shirt and yoga pants, I grabbed the house keys and quietly left. At the local donut shop, I ordered a dozen donuts, which I proceeded to eat. The young worker stared at me in shock. When I finished the last one, I daintily removed the crumbs from around my mouth, and then locked myself in the bathroom, where I purged the evidence of my crime.
I returned home, cleaned myself up, and searched the internet for ways to enhance the perkiness of my breasts. If I couldn't make myself look better for him, I would end up getting cosmetic surgery.
Nineteen
I was able to keep up the perfect wife image and I thought I had everything under control. The longer we were in Los Angeles, the more I noticed little things changing. Jeremy's workout schedule became morning and evening sessions. He started calling me ‘babe’, and ordered me skimpy dresses to wear. I wondered if he was cheating, but dismissed it as my own insecurities. He had no time or stamina to cheat on me.
We had been married seven years the first time I caught him cheating. He had been stupid enough to leave his phone on the kitchen island. A picture of a blonde in bra and panties appeared on the screen.
"Who is she, Jeremy?" I asked, throwing his phone at him.
Catching it, he looked at the screen. He enjoyed the image a little longer than appropriate for a man whose wife just caught him cheating.
"You’re worked up over this? It's nothing. You're imagining things."
"You…you fucking liar! I saw the text message she sent you. I'm not going to live with a lying cheat," I screamed.
I began to storm off, but then I stopped and glared at him. "How long have you been seeing her?"
His f
ace was void of emotion, except his eyes filled with amusement.
He thinks he can charm his way out of this. Not waiting for an answer, I stomped away. I grabbed my suitcase with the manuscripts I was working on hidden under the under layer. I began flinging random items into my suitcase.
Jeremy watched with a cold, calculating look on his face as I filled another bag with my things. "You need help, Caitlyn. I'm not your father. Just because he cheated on your mom, doesn't mean I’m guilty of the same crime."
"Why would you bring him up? This is about you, and your inability to be with one person. You won't change, so I need to leave."
"Babe, I want to help you, but you're right. I think you should go. It will be better for both of us" He picked up the packed bags.
I stared at him in shock. "That is all you have to say for yourself? I need help? I do? Why am I playing Stepford wife while you're sleeping with trash?"
"I’ve done nothing wrong. When would I have time for an affair with your insatiable demands? You're letting your imagination run wild, Caitlyn. So, a beautiful woman texted me, did you see any responses from me? I’ve been nothing, but a faithful and loving husband to you."
Jeremy gripped my arm and drug me out of the bedroom. I struggled as he pulled me harder towards the front door. "If you want me to make a scene and embarrass you, I will, Caitlyn. I prefer you act like a lady and leave our reputation intact." He pushed the button on the intercom. “Have my driver outside in five minutes. Mrs. Whittaker is going on a vacation.”
Stunned, I rode in the elevator. The doors opened on floor twelve, and Joe and Susanna Taylor joined us.
"Are you guys going on a trip?" Susanna asked.
I was too numb to answer. We knew this couple. We’d had dinners with them on several occasions. To my surprise, Jeremy lied to them about a fabulous surprise he had planned for me.
"I have the best wife in the world." Jeremy wrapped his arm around me, kissing my cheek. "Caitlyn really deserves a break. She just found out I'm whisking her off to the airport. After her eleven-hour flight, she will have a week to spend touring Paris on her own for some shopping therapy."
Shocked, I plastered a smile on my face.
"I've also planned a private tour of the Louvre. Caitlyn loves talking about art," Jeremy said.
He almost sounds like he knows what I like.
"Twenty-six days to see everything Europe has to offer. I know my Cait will love the French Riviera. She will need the bike tours to keep this figure after all the food she will be eating," Jeremy laughed and affectionately pulled me closer.
What a convincing liar. By the time we reached the lobby, I almost believed I was going on a fabulous trip.
"I can't wait to hear all about it when you get back," Susanna said excitedly.
Jeremy led me to the waiting car as I waved to the couple. The icy chill from the night air hit me, and I took a long, slow breath. Opening the door, Jeremy waited until I entered.
Leaning inside, he warned, "I'll not let you drag my name through the mud, Caitlyn. You need to get help. I don't want to see you until you’re ready to apologize to me."
Stunned, I rode in silence. Jeremy told the driver to take me to my mother's house in San Diego. He is sending me home to my mother? My cell phone vibrated.
Jeremy: Your credit cards are cancelled. I have called a locksmith. When you're ready to behave, call me
Staring out the window, I felt blank. Has this really happened? Did my husband just kick me out of the house because I caught him cheating? Picking up my cell, I texted the only person in the world I knew would listen – Thomas.
Caitlyn: He threw me out of the house.
Thomas: Jeremy? WTF R U OK? Do you need me to come get you?
Caitlyn: No. Being sent to my mom. Will call later. Love you, T
Thomas: Love u 2! That son of a bitch!
Thomas: Call if you need to chat
Caitlyn: Will do.
Thomas: It will be ok. I have tons of work for you. Fuck him.
I almost smiled at my friend's words. It was nice to know someone had my back. I closed my eyes, holding in the urge to scream. Jeremy was wrong. I was not crazy.
By the time I reached my mother’s house, Jeremy had already called to alert her I was having a mental breakdown. He was such a manipulator. She believed him.
"Oh, you are so thin. Jeremy is right to be so worried about you. We’ll get you the help you need, honey. I made up your room. It will all be better in the morning."
After I changed and climbed into bed, my mother tucked me in with promises I would be well soon. I didn't have the energy to tell her the truth. Alone, I allowed myself to cry. When my tears finally ran dry, I stared at the Marilyn Monroe poster hanging on the wall. Thomas had given it to me when I was a senior in high school.
Nothing lasts forever, so live it up, drink it down, laugh it off, avoid the bullshit, take chances & never have regrets, because at one point everything you did was exactly what you wanted. ~Marilyn Monroe
Something about those words played in my mind as I fell into a dreamless sleep. In the morning, I found out how vindictive my husband truly was.
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I logged onto my laptop and found I was no longer an authorized user on any of the accounts. He removed me from everything. I had been too rash. I should not have confronted him. I should have withdrawn a sizable amount of money before I left him. My reaction ended up hurting me.
By the time I joined my mother in the kitchen, she had several baskets full of muffins lining the counter tops. She must have been up all night
"Jeremy called, honey. What happened with you two? He recommended you see a therapist, and that you possibly need to be medicated," she said with a scowl.
Dumb move, Jeremy. You never did listen to me. You said the magic words.
Hillary Chase despised anything dealing with psychiatric medication. Only a bunch of quacks will want to shove pills down your mouth to shut you up, she’d always say. Though, she never told me why she had such a bad taste in her mouth for mental health providers.
In all honestly, I was surprised she called in Nick to help me all those years ago. I suspected it had something to do with my father, but we never talked about those things. According to my mother, she had no life before she married Gregory Chase. I always wondered how she had taken his death so well.
"I found out he was cheating on me and he told me I was crazy," I said numbly.
"Well, you can't stand for that. You have rights," she huffed, slamming the oven door.
"We’ll work it out, Mother. Just trust me. I already have a job lined up."
Before I married him, I had a good career as a book editor for Nitro Publishing. I was great at my job and had a list of bestsellers to prove it, but Jeremy didn't want his wife to work, especially not in such an unflattering job.
You’ll be fine at home. I need you at my side. Imagine a successful investment banker needing his wife to work. I had been his trophy to polish up and show off. And now, I was homeless and broke. I was forced to accept his decision…his punishment.
During the two months I lived with my mother, I was reminded daily that she was right about never turning over all my power. I used that time to grow stronger and a plan developed in my mind. I was not going to lose everything. I would protect myself. I would not be the victim.
I would wait for him to contact me. There was no doubt in my mind he would. A divorce would be the greatest embarrassment to him. He would have to admit he failed at something.
I picked up more work from Thomas and helped my mother at her
events. I was going to live as if there was no Jeremy and let fate decide my course. After the months of distance, Jeremy finally reached out to me. His contact was not the flowery apology I wanted or the dedication of his love. Instead, I received a text message.
Jeremy: Are you ready to apologize?
Caitlyn: You were right. I was just hormonal.
Fuck you, Jeremy. You know I did nothing wrong.
Jeremy: You can come home if you promise not to act like that again. You hurt me, babe :(
Caitlyn: I know. Let me make it up to you.
Yes, I'll make everything up to you.
Jeremy: I'll send a driver for you today.
My mother told me it was a mistake to trust him again and suggested I contact Dr. Fisher. I promised her I would be in control this time and he had learned from his mistake. I could never tell her my plan, but I knew if I could, she would have been proud.
When Jeremy's driver arrived, I hesitated. No, Caitlyn. You can do this. One year. Then, you’re free.
The ride in the limousine felt like I was on my way to a funeral...my own. In many ways, it was like my death. The naive twenty-three-year-old who had dreamed of happily ever after was gone. Welcome back, Caitlyn Chase, woman with drive and dreams of her own.
I wasn't excited or hopeful that Jeremy and I would reconcile. We would never share a happily ever after. No. I was determined. Determined to get what I deserved out of life, not the scraps Jeremy thought I earned.
When I arrived home, I found a bouquet of red roses on the counter. Yuck. I hate roses. Lies on a stem of sharp thorns. How appropriate to remind me what kind of man sends roses after they treat you poorly. He never sent me the flowers I loved, because daisies are not classy enough. Jeremy once told me daisies were for teenage boys to give to teenage girls with their heads full of dreams just to get them into bed.
The note simply read:
All is forgiven, babe.
He couldn't even write my name on the apology?
When he arrived home that night, he promised it was all a misunderstanding and he would make sure I never felt that way again. If I needed to be medicated, he would find me the best doctor to prevent any further breakdowns.