anger.
He hesitated for a moment, considering what to say or do next.
"Get out. Now!" she bellowed, her hands balled up into fists once more at her side.
She took a couple deep breaths trying to control her emotions. He was very close to getting another hard smack across his face.
He sighed, pulling his t-shirt over his head. He hesitated once more; his mouth opened to say something, but then realized that nothing he could say would fix the situation. This was the most hurtful thing that he had ever done to her. He hung his head in shame, and finally left.
A couple of minutes later she heard his mustang start. Walking over to the window, she peered out, but ensured she stayed out of sight. The woman she had just caught him with was sitting in the passenger seat as he drove off.
The nerve of that no good, cheating bastard!
She really didn't think she had ever been so angry, not to the point that she was at that very moment. She had never been so hurt, upset, frustrated and humiliated, all at the same time. The rage nearly consumed her as she stood there, alone in the bedroom.
She turned back towards their bed. The sheets appeared ruffled from what appeared to be some intense bedroom action. The images of Oliver fucking some stranger in her bed played repeatedly in her mind as if on some sort of fucked up tormenting loop. Her stomach turned at the thought that this may not be the first time that he cheated on her.
She was going to vomit . She fought the nausea by taking another few deep breaths.
"Well these sheets and comforter are no good to me anymore," she muttered to herself.
Damn. She just bought them a couple of weeks ago. She'd splurged and spent a small fortune on the sheet and comforter set. She supposed she could wash them, but she'd never get the image of them screwing out of her mind, if she kept the sheets that they had done it on.
Definitely not an image she wanted to dwell on.
She shook her head in disbelief. "In my bed. In my house! On our anniversary?"
Breathe , she instructed herself.
As angry as she was, she was surprised when a calm state overtook her.
If it wasn't against the city bi-law to burn things in your back yard she'd burn everything that was his, but she'd have to make do with balling them up into garbage bags and tossing them out.
"Rotten son of a bitch," she fumed, as she set to work.
She now had a lot to do tonight and none of it included preparing the delicious meal she had planned.
****
The following week was hectic. She never cried over the failed relationship, not once.
The single tear was all she was going to give him. Perhaps it was the anger that still resided in her, or perhaps deep down she knew it was for the best. She had packed up his things and left them on the lawn for him to pick up the next day.
Oliver showed up a number of times apologizing to her and trying to convince her that he had changed. He said it was a mistake and he loved her, and wanted her back. Blah, blah, blah. She'd heard it all before.
She took over the mortgage on the house; she could barely afford it, but she would get by. She was great at planning and budgeting so it was just a matter of cutting a few corners here and there.
The house was quiet though, too quiet and she was lonely. Worst of all her self esteem had taken quite a hit. Why would he want to be with that woman when he could have had me anytime he wanted ? It just didn't make sense to her.
She was a good woman. She was sure of it. A good catch. No. A great catch. Screw him! He was just too stupid to realize what he had. Perhaps he realized that now but too little too late, as far as she was concerned the damage was done and she could never forgive him.
In the kitchen, Sabrina poured herself a cup of coffee from her coffeemaker and noticed the mail had piled up over the last week. All unopened and waiting for her. She supposed there would be bills waiting to be paid. Putting down her cup of coffee, she snatched up the mail,
He hesitated for a moment, considering what to say or do next.
"Get out. Now!" she bellowed, her hands balled up into fists once more at her side.
She took a couple deep breaths trying to control her emotions. He was very close to getting another hard smack across his face.
He sighed, pulling his t-shirt over his head. He hesitated once more; his mouth opened to say something, but then realized that nothing he could say would fix the situation. This was the most hurtful thing that he had ever done to her. He hung his head in shame, and finally left.
A couple of minutes later she heard his mustang start. Walking over to the window, she peered out, but ensured she stayed out of sight. The woman she had just caught him with was sitting in the passenger seat as he drove off.
The nerve of that no good, cheating bastard!
She really didn't think she had ever been so angry, not to the point that she was at that very moment. She had never been so hurt, upset, frustrated and humiliated, all at the same time. The rage nearly consumed her as she stood there, alone in the bedroom.
She turned back towards their bed. The sheets appeared ruffled from what appeared to be some intense bedroom action. The images of Oliver fucking some stranger in her bed played repeatedly in her mind as if on some sort of fucked up tormenting loop. Her stomach turned at the thought that this may not be the first time that he cheated on her.
She was going to vomit . She fought the nausea by taking another few deep breaths.
"Well these sheets and comforter are no good to me anymore," she muttered to herself.
Damn. She just bought them a couple of weeks ago. She'd splurged and spent a small fortune on the sheet and comforter set. She supposed she could wash them, but she'd never get the image of them screwing out of her mind, if she kept the sheets that they had done it on.
Definitely not an image she wanted to dwell on.
She shook her head in disbelief. "In my bed. In my house! On our anniversary?"
Breathe , she instructed herself.
As angry as she was, she was surprised when a calm state overtook her.
If it wasn't against the city bi-law to burn things in your back yard she'd burn everything that was his, but she'd have to make do with balling them up into garbage bags and tossing them out.
"Rotten son of a bitch," she fumed, as she set to work.
She now had a lot to do tonight and none of it included preparing the delicious meal she had planned.
****
The following week was hectic. She never cried over the failed relationship, not once.
The single tear was all she was going to give him. Perhaps it was the anger that still resided in her, or perhaps deep down she knew it was for the best. She had packed up his things and left them on the lawn for him to pick up the next day.
Oliver showed up a number of times apologizing to her and trying to convince her that he had changed. He said it was a mistake and he loved her, and wanted her back. Blah, blah, blah. She'd heard it all before.
She took over the mortgage on the house; she could barely afford it, but she would get by. She was great at planning and budgeting so it was just a matter of cutting a few corners here and there.
The house was quiet though, too quiet and she was lonely. Worst of all her self esteem had taken quite a hit. Why would he want to be with that woman when he could have had me anytime he wanted ? It just didn't make sense to her.
She was a good woman. She was sure of it. A good catch. No. A great catch. Screw him! He was just too stupid to realize what he had. Perhaps he realized that now but too little too late, as far as she was concerned the damage was done and she could never forgive him.
In the kitchen, Sabrina poured herself a cup of coffee from her coffeemaker and noticed the mail had piled up over the last week. All unopened and waiting for her. She supposed there would be bills waiting to be paid. Putting down her cup of coffee, she snatched up the mail,
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