Lustly

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by Jennifer Foor


  I got to the door before he addressed me. “Mrs. Ross, this consultation is free. Please sit back down. I wasn’t finished speaking.” He took a deep breath. “There’s options for you. There’s child support and alimony. If your husband has supported you for all of those years, you will be entitled to a fair share of whatever he makes. It’s the law.”

  “There isn’t any amount of alimony that would allow me to stay in my house, and keep my kids with me all of the time.”

  “I disagree. Infidelity gives us means to go after your husband for enough to keep you comfortable.”

  “My kids will hate me. They’ll blame all of this on me.”

  “This is your decision, but you need to be fair to yourself. Do you want to spend the next five to ten years living under the same roof as your adulterous husband?”

  He had a point. Really I would have liked to cut off his dick and let him bleed out before I called the paramedics. “This isn’t about me. It’s about my children. They love him, and no matter what he’s done to me, it doesn’t reflect the father he is to them. You don’t know my life, Mr. Polleras.”

  “I still think you should weigh out your options. In my professional opinion you have other choices you could make.”

  I turned to look at the kind man. “What good will it do? At the end of the day I can stay married and keep my family together, or I can leave and lose everything that’s important to all of us. Those are my only options.”

  “I disagree.” He motioned to the chair again. “Please sit.”

  Reluctantly, I walked back to the chair and sat down. “I’m wasting your time.”

  He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. I watched him playing with his fingertips as he spoke to me. “My last client told me about you. She asked me to give you this.” He slid a card across the table. “She’s a nice girl, who’s been through a similar situation. She could tell you firsthand that things will get better. How about we meet next week when things have had time to sink in?”

  “Even if I wanted to proceed with this, I can’t pay you for the time. I know how expensive you are.”

  “I don’t do this just for the money. Sometimes it feels good to give back. I can see the desperation in your eyes. You came in here today because you obviously needed help.” He laughed and shook his head, while still penciling me in.

  “I’m pathetic,” I whispered.

  “Mrs. Ross, please don’t take this the wrong way, because I mean it in the most professional sense, but no one should be this miserable when they’ve done nothing to deserve it. I can help you get what you want, and I’m willing to work pro-bono until you can find the means to pay me.”

  “That’s very kind, but I’m certain a job at a fast food place wouldn’t even be able to afford fifteen minutes of what you charge.” I closed my eyes for a second and pictured myself working at McDonalds. I cringed inside thinking about what my children would think of me.

  He crossed his arms, and I felt uneasy in my own seat. For some reason this man was being nice to me and I was acting so difficult. “The door is right there.” He motioned. “I penciled you in for the same time next week. If you show up then we will proceed. If you don’t then I didn’t lose anything but time.”

  I smiled and stood up. “I’m just going to work out my marriage. Thank you for seeing me.”

  Determined to not look back, I looped my purse over my shoulder and left the office.

  I could survive for the next ten years with a cheater and liar. I’d have to do it for my children. As miserable as it would be, I’d do it for my kids, and everything they’d valued about their lives. The sacrifice was worth it.

  Right?

  Chapter 3

  Ever since my near shitting myself in the grocery store, I’d been driving clear across town for even the bare necessities. We’d woken to a house with no toilet paper, so there I was spending an extra five bucks in gas to grab a five dollar pack of paper to wipe our asses with.

  I found no humor in that at all.

  In fact, since the affair had been revealed to me, I found no humor in anything. I was living life like a zombie. I hated the way I looked, the way I felt, and how my suffering was taking me to places that I didn’t want to be. I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror without finding things I hated.

  In all of the years I’d been married and raising children I’d always gotten compliments for looking younger, and still being beautiful. Though he hadn’t even noticed, my husband was the reason for the light being removed from my life. I lived like clockwork everyday, in hopes of not having to deal with him for long periods of time.

  After grabbing the toilet paper, I sat in my mini-van biting my nails and considering how I was letting myself fade away. Attached to the grocery store were a few shops, including a salon. I knew my funds were limited, but I hadn’t gotten a hair cut in forever, and assumed that maybe a fresh trim would brighten my mood, even if it were temporary.

  I walked inside and was greeted by a sweet girl who seated me next to this well-dressed woman. The first thing I noticed was her extra large designer bag that had a dog’s head popping out of the top. She opened this bedazzled container and pulled out a treat that looked like a real piece of steak and fed it to the animal.

  I looked away before we met eyes, and prayed that she wasn’t judging me for looking like a dirt ball.

  Thankfully, my name was called and I was seated at the sinks to have my hair washed. The beautician working on me greeted me. “My name is Stacia. Can you tell me what you’d like to do today?”

  I closed my eyes and spoke while she started washing my hair. Admittedly, her touching me felt so nice. I knew she was just washing my hair, but it had been a long time since anyone had touched me at all. I wasn’t turned on, but more appreciative that I didn’t have leprosy or something that would prevent people from coming into contact with my skin.

  “I think just a trim.”

  I knew my roots were showing gray, and that I really needed a good dye job, but I had to save money. “Are you sure? We’re running a special this week on color.”

  I thought about it for only a second. My husband owed me, and I knew if I’d asked he would have paid for it. “You know what, how about we do a cut and color, maybe some high and low lights. We could do my brows too, if that’s alright?”

  The girl laughed. “Sure. Whatever you want.”

  Once I had my hair in a towel, she took us over to her station and started brushing my hair. I noticed the rich woman with the dog being seated across from us. She was angry about her beautician making her wait.

  Stacia leaned in close to me. “That is Ms. Cybil. She’s a regular.”

  Since we were in a lower class part of town it baffled me that she was in this salon, instead of a fancy one in the heart of the city. “Is she always like that?”

  “Pretty much. She’s been coming here for years.”

  While she was drying my hair, preparing to do the foil color, I watched Ms. Cybil getting her color applied. We’d caught eyes a few times and I felt embarrassed about it. Once my color was in, I was taken to the dryers for the color to process. They seated me next to Ms. Cybil and she didn’t even acknowledge that I was there.

  I closed my eyes and focused on the sound of the dryer hiding everything else going on in the salon. It was nice, having those few moments where it was just nothing but the loud sound of the machine.

  Halfway through getting my hair done, I started to open up about my marriage, leaving out the details of still being in the relationship. I suppose I just needed to vent about it to anyone that would listen. As I spoke about my husband and the floozy neighbor, I noticed Ms. Cybil watching me, as if she were judging me for being cheated on.

  Stacia talked about a friend of hers who had the same thing happen, and I felt an instant connection to her, as if talking to her had been the best conversation I’d had in a long time. When my hair was cut, and finally styled I liked what I saw in the mirror. If
I’d had makeup on one wouldn’t be able to tell that I’d cried for half of the day already.

  I went to pay and noticed Cybil getting a manicure. After chewing on my nails, I knew they needed attention. “You know what, I think I want my nails done and painted. Can you add that to my total?” What was my husband going to do about it? It wasn’t like he’d even notice anyway.

  After they sat me next to Cybil, I was greeted by an older woman, probably in her fifties. She was having a conversation with Cybil, as if I wasn’t sitting in front of her. When she got a phone call, she left me sitting there, feeling very out of place. I could sense her eyes on me and turned to validate my assumptions.

  The woman, who looked to be in her fifties was steady staring at me. “Your hair looks much better. I’m glad to see you took care of that hot mess you came in here with.”

  I shrugged, not sure if it was a compliment or a cut down. “Thanks.”

  “I heard you talking to Stacia.” She said nothing else. To be honest I was creeped out by her knowing my business, even if I’d falsified some of the details.

  “Are you married, ma’am?”

  The woman cackled. “Please, don’t call me ma’am. My name is Cybil,” she said in a very stern way.

  “Well, are you married, Cybil?”

  “Divorced, thank God. Marriage is a travesty that naive people make when they mistake lust for love.”

  She was to the point and completely ridiculous. For sure I’d been in love when I married my husband. “I’d like to think that some people are capable of love.”

  Cybil stood up and laughed. “It’s just a word, my dear. It’s a powerful word that only leads to despair.” Figuring she’d been burned too, I kept my mouth shut. The last thing I wanted to do was piss her off. After grabbing her bag with her dog, and paying, she walked back over towards me. “No man is worth the pain you’re putting yourself through. Don’t wither away because of someone who is beneath you.”

  She was a feminist for sure, burned by someone who left her heartless. I pitied her, but admired her at the same time. “Thanks for the advice.”

  The woman winked and walked outside, without saying anything else.

  While letting my nails dry I thought about her words. Maybe in some weird way she had a point. I was in control of my life, with or without money. The only problem was without it, I had nothing to go on.

  After I knew my nails were dry, I pulled out the emergency credit card my husband had given me, and passed it across the counter. The woman passed it back. “Ms. Cybil paid for you. She left this, too.”

  It was a card with her name and a contact number. I found it odd that the woman who was so dry was leaving me a number to call her. “Wow. That was very generous of her.”

  “She’s done it before. Sadly, the last two girls never came back in for their appointments. I guess she scared them away,” Stacia explained.

  “I’ll be back, I promise. My hair looks great, and I feel better. Thank you so much.”

  I made my next appointment and walked outside feeling like a million bucks. As I pulled my keys out of my purse and hit the unlock button, a Jaguar pulled up next to me. The tinted window rolled down mechanically.

  “Did you get my card?” Ms. Cybil wore leather gloves and held onto the steering wheel as she spoke.

  “Yes. I need to repay you for my hair. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I won’t take your money, even if you had it to give.” She was so frank and it pissed me off.

  “Look, I get that you’re probably rich and money means nothing to you, but being a wife and mother is all I ever wanted to do.”

  She looked in her mirror as if my words meant nothing. “Is it?” Then she faced me again. “Is it really all you ever wanted to be? Given the chance, would you not have wanted at least a chance at something else?”

  “Lady, I don’t know you, obviously, and I sure as hell don’t owe you anything, especially an explanation as to why my life was fine before, and it will be fine now.”

  “Your life is what you make it, darling. Trust me, I know.”

  I wanted to drive away from this woman and never see her face again. “Thank you again for treating me.”

  I started to put my vehicle in the drive position. “What if I can offer you a way out, per se, a way to make money of your own to help you through this tough time?”

  “Are you looking for a maid?” Cleaning her toilets while she watched me wasn’t my idea of a good career choice. “I’m not a charity case. I’ve got a nice big house and a beautiful family.”

  “I’ve been looking for someone for a different type of position for a while now.”

  “What do you mean different? Gardener?” She obviously could afford a maid and a gardener based on her clothing and accessories.

  “I don’t talk business in public, dear. My address is on the back of the card. Come by tonight at nine p.m. Don’t be late. I take offense to tardiness.”

  She pulled away before I could decline. So I did the same, convinced I’d never see her again.

  Around seven p.m., after I’d cleaned up dinner, and made sure the kids were done with their homework and chores, I got a phone call from my neighbor, Kate. Seeing her number on the caller I.D. made me cringe. Then worry rushed over me that something could have happened to my husband, and even though I hated him, I’d need to know.

  “Hello?”

  “Lily, it’s me, Kate. Listen, I’m out of town this week and I thought I’d be home by now, but I’m going to need a few more days to get the job done.” The whole time she spoke I saw her blowing my husband as if it was a full-time job. Then I imagined her laying on top of him, naked, while she spoke to me. Silent tears fell down my cheeks. “Anyway, could you go over and feed the cat for me? I left him an extra litter box and plenty of food, but I just want to be sure he’s got enough for two more days.”

  “Sure,” I whispered.

  “Great. I need to run. See you in two days.”

  I tossed my phone on the bed and fell beside it. The nerve they both had calling me while they were together. I felt sick to my stomach every second of every day and now I was supposed to feed her fucking cat.

  I looked over at Samson lying on the floor and wondered if I could feed the cat to him. Would he eat it without leaving a trace? “Ever tasted cooked cat, boy?”

  He turned his head and then put it back down on the floor.

  Instead of killing an innocent animal, I slipped on some shoes and took the spare key to open her back door. Upon entering I spotted the cat and the food bowls. In the past, he barely ate when she was out of town, or at a hotel fucking my husband for all I knew.

  After putting another bowl down for food, I looked around the kitchen that I’d been in a million times. I heard the saying curiosity killed the cat. At this point I didn’t give a shit about the cat’s life. I needed to get answers. I was burning to know how involved they were. Was it lust, was it a real relationship? How long had they been lovers?

  The questions were killing me inside.

  So, I did what every woman in my situation would have done. I walked myself up the stairs to her bedroom and started going through her things. Located in her top dresser drawer, exactly where I’d kept mine were all kinds of sexy outfits. Some still had the tags on them. I held them up to my body and began to bawl. She’d bought these for him, for my husband. I shoved them back in the drawer and closed it up then turned to face the bed. Unlike our king size, she had a queen. It was made perfectly without a single crease. I leaned down and ran my hand across the white goose down comforter and wondered how many times they fucked there. Did he prefer this blanket over ours? Did he ever consider having a queen size bed with me?

  More tears came, and I didn’t even care. How could he have been doing this to me; having a relationship with someone that I considered a friend? It takes two, but neither of them had stopped it. How could they do this and not worry about being caught, or what would happen if they
were?

  I glanced over at the bedside table and made my way toward it. I’d been to toy parties with Kate, and she’d been very obvious about the things she liked to do with her men. Kate was a freak, and I suppose that’s what attracted my husband to her. When we’d have barbeques and drink wine, she’d go on and on about her experiences in the bedroom. Admittedly, I was just as interested to learn new things, as apparently my husband had been. I just wish he would have come to me to learn them.

  Inside of the drawer were more toys than I could have fathomed. Beads, butt plugs, a miniature whip, and three different dildos. There was even one that plugged into the wall, which I could only imagine packed with a punch. I wanted to gag when I thought of her using the restraints to tie him up and sit on his face. She’d talked about it before, and my husband had asked me later on. Unfortunately, our daughter Opal was severely vomiting and the idea was forgotten about, so I thought.

  Upon moving things around I’d turned on one of the devices. One by one I had to touch them to find out which it was. The idea of having something in my hand that had been inside of her vagina made me ill. Then I thought about Charlie and how many times he’d slept with me, and possibly her in the same day. Didn’t it bother her that he came home to me every night? Did it even occur to her that we still slept together?

  Finally finding the vibrating device, I clicked the off button and closed the drawer, unable to stand another minute of being in the house. By the time I’d made it back to mine I’d already made the decision to go see Cybil. I had to find a way to get away from my husband, before I really did cut off his balls while he slept, and force fed them to Kate next door, rare, like she prefers her burgers.

  After telling my son a big lie about a friend in need of a ride, I climbed into my mini-van feeling like the girls would be taken care of long enough for me to run out for a bit. They were all old enough to stay home alone anyway, so knowing they were together put my mind at ease.

 

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