1. Justine

Okay, Justine, enough of this crying shit. I drank the last of my third drink in twenty minutes and slammed the glass down on the counter. I left the bartender a nice tip because she's a good sort who listened to my woes and was just as upset as me about the shit that was going on in my life.

She kinda reminded me of the women I grew up with. Those boss bitches in steel-toe boots who could hold their own against anyone, man, woman or child.

After years of being married to a sod, I'd forgotten that I was one of those women. It's so bad that now I need liquid courage just to speak my truth, and that was never the case before.

I feel like a damn hypocrite. When my girlies from college call me up crying about their life issues, I'm always the one telling them how to navigate these things, and yet I'd let this spineless fuck slip by me while I wasn't looking.

He"d worn me down, him and his mealy mouth bitch of a mother, talk about the mother-in-law from hell. I'd put up with her shit because I was in love with her breech-born mama's boy zit of a son.

I've put up with much more than that, but what I absolutely will not do is put up with cheating. No, siree, that shit ain't going to fly.

I trudged down the sidewalk and looked across the street at the five-star hotel that was my destination. The party room of that hotel, to be exact, where my husband and the other high-level executives from the company he works for, along with their wives and some lower-level employees, were gathered for some party or another.

Also in attendance is the rot-crotch bitch he was screwing behind my back for the last year while my stupid ass sat at home raising his asshole kids, that were doing their best to put me in an early grave.

Don't get me wrong, I love my kids, but for fuck sake, don't they ever stop moving? These little pissants, not one of them taller than my knee, be running my shit from sunup ‘til sundown.

I haven't had a moment to myself since giving birth to my first five years ago and the other two that came right after because I let that asshole talk me into having the kids close together in age.

I put my whole existence on hold for this shit, and this is the thanks I get. I was so fucking mad I sobered up and had to go back to the bar for another round.

Not because I was afraid to do what I came there for, but because I'd reached the point of mad where my gun was not going to stay in my purse if I went over there now.

I had to hurry, though, because the babysitter had shit to do, and she couldn't waste her night because I was too chicken, so after one more, I took a deep breath, walked out of the bar, stepped down off the sidewalk, and headed toward the beginning of the end.

* * *

I wasn't dressedfor this, which is something I knew before leaving my house to come here. The thing is, between finding out about the affair, calling the babysitter, and leaving the house, it had only been a half hour or so. I didn't exactly have time to think or plan my outfit.

What the fuck do you wear to burn every fuck down? Hell, if I know. But the culottes and tee shirt I was wearing when I found the evidence is exactly what I'm wearing. I had to look down to remind myself what I had on my feet. Uggs house slippers.

I pushed my purse higher on my shoulder and walked through the doors of the hotel. I had my shades on and didn't even look in the direction of the front desk because my business was not with them.

I knew where the ballroom was in this place since I'd been here before, so I took the elevator up and prayed the booze didn't wear off too soon. I needn't have worried, though, because the first thing I saw when I stepped off the elevator and into the party was a waiter with a tray full of champagne.

"I'll have one of those, thank you." People were already looking in my direction because, in a sea of black and white evening wear, I stood out like a sore thumb. Like, I give a good damn.

I didn't look left nor right as I headed to the podium at the front of the room that they leave there for any blowhard who wants to blow smoke up the owner's ass to go and make an ass of themselves. I was that ass today.

I think I heard my soon-to-be shit stain of an ex call out to me, but this was not his part of the show, not yet. "Hello, good evening. Attention, please." I waited for the noise to settle down, and all eyes were on me.

"Some of you may know who I am; some of you don't. That man over there, he's my husband, at least until I divorce his ass in the not-too-distant future." I pointed him out in the crowd, and what do you know? His side bitch was caught in the crosshairs and was trying to slide out of frame.

"Not so fast, Melanie; don't leave his side now. You were there when he caught the STI he passed on to me, you grimy bitch; you can be there to see the end result."

She looked like a deer caught on somebody's windshield. "Now, good people, I've been married to that piece of shit for ten years, the best years of my prime. I've been at home raising our kids and keeping our home together because that's what he wanted."

"The degree I worked hard for is molting away on a wall in my house without use because he said he wanted to be the man who took care of his family. Now I know he was just threatened by me and isn't man enough to have a wife who can make more than him, even in his corporate job. That's on me."

"I never cheated, never disrespected him, and even put up with his hag of a mother who should've swallowed before birthing that cunt she saddled me and the rest of the world with."

More noise and more whispers, but I wasn't about to stop now. Oh shit, who the hell told me to mix champagne with vodka? I know from my college days that drinking anything after hard liquor turns me into my bitchy twin.

I came here to expose their affair, not act the damn fool. Too late for that shit. My twin brother, who lives inside my head, was ready to rip and roar. Justice is a mean drunk. We decided, my family and I, that he was a boy because his ass was too much, even for women who had seen and done it all.

I know when Justice starts tickling at the edges of my mind that some off-colored shit is about to go down, but there's nothing I can do about it because he does not take direction from me.

If there's one thing Justice hates, it's being told what the fuck he can and cannot do. So I held the mike and hoped for the best.

"As I was saying. My husband likes to fuck me up the ass with a pogo stick. Do you think that skinny bitch over there could take a pogo stick up the ass? No, she cannot, so tell me then why after ten years of letting him fuck me up the ass with a Pogo stick, he would cheat on me with that skank." What the fuck, Justice?

People started laughing like my life was a joke, but at least they were looking at his freaky ass now. If there's one thing Justice likes, it's an audience. He loves nothing better than showing his ass and leaving me to pick up the pieces.

"Oh, and the best part is after he's fucked me up the ass with the pogo stick, he likes me to sit on his face ass first, so that means, my dear, that you have been licking my ass juice off his face for a year."

Now, the room was filled with laughter and people talking behind their hands. I got down off the podium and walked towards the lovely couple. "Jus…" That's all my ex-Paul got out before I reached out and touched his bitch.

Open hand, right across the cheek. When he tried to help her up off the floor, I got him in the nuts with my knee. Now, they were both down. "Stay down there where you both belong."

Just then, the final act of my show showed up. The babysitter with his three kids and their overnight bags. "Daddy!" They came running when they saw him.

"Pay the babysitter, and it's your weekend. Not at my house, though; you can find somewhere else to go." I walked out the door without a backward glance and headed for my car. I got a plane to catch.