Chapter 17

CHAPTER17

My tummy was starting to show, and I had more cravings and demands than in all my other pregnancies combined. Justin was on call twenty-four-seven, but I was sure to keep it outside of working hours. If he noticed how convenient that was, he never mentioned it; he was just happy to be let back in.

I still made him leave most nights, but he was staying over more and more these days. When I no longer had to hide my morning sickness, he was very hands-on, to the point I had to lock him out of the bathroom so I could throw up in peace. I don’t recall him being this attentive during my other three pregnancies.

He must’ve mentioned marriage six times a day in the first six months of pregnancy and ramped up the crazy coming on to the last couple of weeks when he thought I was at my weakest. Unbeknownst to him, the nights I made him leave were the nights I took out my playbook to remind myself why I was doing this.

He had no idea that I was still in love with him because I wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice, but he couldn’t go ten minutes without professing his love and pleading for forgiveness. I quake each time one of my kids looks me in the eye and asks why Daddy can’t stay. He’s there in the mornings when they wake up, so I don’t see what the problem is. That jackass has been getting into their heads with his nonsense, but I refuse to cave.

My mother-in-law is the only one on my side, apparently, because everyone else seems to think I should forgive and forget. I might forgive him, but no one has yet to show me how the hell I’m supposed to forget that he had a whole-ass affair while I was home raising his kids and keeping his home clean.

Now he’s running around like a husband when all he is, is my fuck buddy. I mentioned that to him once, his new title in my life, and he tried to fuck me into the ether. If not for my big belly getting in the way, who knows what else he would’ve tried to do to me with his dick.

I wasn’t bothered because the more pregnant I am, the hornier I become, so from that day on, I’d torment him with either updates on Tim or reminding him that he wasn’t my husband and had no say in anything I chose to do.

I’ve disappeared a couple more weekends throughout my pregnancy just to make him mental, and it’s been working like a charm. Because he thinks he’s in competition, he’s been going an extra ten miles in everything he does. If I had known that this was all it took, I would’ve had an imaginary boyfriend a long time ago.

As for the cheating fuck bucket he left me for, she’s still on her shit, stalking my socials every damn day like she has nothing better to do. Last month, she showed up at his job again and was turned away by security. One of the employees sent me a video of her losing her shit in the parking lot, and she didn’t look so good.

Someone posted the video online, and I anonymously asked in the comments if the silicone in her tits was leaking; she looked a hot mess. That started a whole conversation going about what else on her was fake. Now, when I say someone posted it I wasn’t being completely honest. I know damn good, and well who posted it.

You see, when it looked like she wouldn’t stop driving by my house and I was getting too big to throw hands if it came to that, I had to find other ways to deal with her. I’m not sure why I hadn’t thought of it sooner, maybe because I was never that interested in her life, but I decided to do some digging into her past and who she was before she became the twat-waffle that interrupted my life. She was so good at that shit I knew there had to be other victims out there.

It was like falling into the deep end of the abyss, let me tell you. It wasn’t as hard as you would imagine, given the lengths she’d gone to to distance herself from her past. What she didn’t count on, I guess, was that although she had changed her last name to her mother’s maiden name, there was still a connection.

I knew where she went to college from her work transcript, which I only had to ask to receive because of my friends in HR, and I took it from there. I wasn’t interested in her academics; I wanted the scoop, so I found others who were there at the same time, visited their socials, and reached out as innocently as I could.

It took weeks but it wasn’t long before I was getting into the meat of this thing. My life wasn’t the first she fucked over, and I found at least two other women who still remembered what she’d done to them and were only too happy to dish the dirt. It was one of these women who posted the video after I shared it with her.

Look, I’m not into bullying anyone, but I hate this woman worse than poison, so I’m not too bent out of shape about it. I shared the video as a way to give those women some of their own back, but the results were even greater than expected, and I don’t mean the comments that her past classmates made to shame her.

Someone from her hometown got wind of the post somehow, and that’s where the real fun began. I was contacted privately and given the whole story along with pictures, and let’s just say she looked nothing like she does now back then, even though she’s looking kind of rough these days.

I was only too happy to share these images with Justin so he could see who he left me for. The real her, not the plastic version she’d presented to him, but I didn’t stop there. To add insult to injury, I sent the images to his phone, unblocked her number, and sent them to her, asking, ‘Is this really you?’ Then I texted her from my phone with the same image and laughing emojis. I haven’t heard from her since.

Her ass is still being dragged for filth all over social media, and now her high school victims and college casualties were teaming up in an online forum made just for her. I couldn’t have planned it better myself, but I was too busy with my aching back and kids who wanted all the attention I had to give.

Every once in a while, when I needed a break, I’d mention Tim and run away for the weekend, but I was getting too big for that now, and besides, Justin wouldn’t let me go anywhere without him.

He’s tied my shoes, made me breakfast in bed, and didn’t say a word when I hired the babysitter full-time and let his mom off the hook. What was he going to say? He didn’t live there, though he was the one paying for her with the adjusted child support.

That’s right as if he wasn’t paying enough, I needed more money to pay for the babysitter. If he thought it was coming out of my pocket he had another thing coming. He paid and paid very well without saying a peep.

He took me to spa days, rubbed my feet at night, and mourned the fact that he hadn’t done these things earlier, that we had to go through the trauma of a divorce and put my children through hell for him to learn how to be a father.

I took it all as my due and felt no guilt or shame for any of it. He was learning how to treat me the way I wanted and not the way he thought I should be, which could be two different things altogether, and I had the freedom of telling him to yeet his ass out of my house whenever I didn’t feel like being bothered.

My kids were happy, though, and that was something. There was no more monster wanna-be stepmom in their lives and they didn’t have to share their dad’s time with a stranger. On the nights I kicked him out of my bed he’d show up first thing in the morning to help me get the kids off to Pre-K while I slept in. Isn’t he such a sweetheart?

* * *

I pulled backon the revenge a lot these last few weeks because I’m too damn pregnant for the drama of it all, but I still zing him every once in a while. Like when I went into labor, brought on by a rather deep back shot, or side shot, whatever you wanna call it. Look, he was behind me while I laid on my side propped up by pillows okay.

Anyway, I thought I was cumming, but it was a hell of a lot more than that. Justin rushed me to the hospital looking nervous as hell, and I didn’t need to be a mind reader to know what he was thinking because I’d spent the last few days convincing him that I still wasn’t sure whose baby it was and I wasn’t sure if we could keep seeing each other if it was Tim’s.

Our son was born ten hours after we got to the hospital, and two days later, the DNA results came in. You should’ve seen him preening like a peacock because he’d won the coin toss. Bless his heart!

We took our baby home, and he put his foot down and I reluctantly agreed not to see Tim anymore. I even called him while Justin was in the room and told him it was over. My poor cousin probably thinks I’m on something, but I’ll explain things to her later. She was half deaf, so she was the lucky candidate for the call since he insisted on being there.

I still refused his marriage proposal because I was very happy with the way things were. And when we took our boy home, he stepped up and did what he should’ve done with the other three. I didn’t have to get him up in the night for feedings and diaper changes. He took a full six months off for paternity leave and did most of the heavy lifting for the first three of those.

He had no idea I was watching his every move. I didn’t want him just doing things to make me happy; I wanted him to enjoy his time with his kids, and I saw it for the first time in forever. He was happy, the kids were happy, so I allowed him to move back in after having him sign something that said he had no rights to the house and that it was all mine. He was already paying for it as part of the divorce decree anyway but still, I wasn’t taking any chances.

* * *

“I don’t wantany more kids, so you’re gonna need to get a vasectomy and not one of those faulty ones that can malfunction at any time.” Jamie was three months old, and that’s how long it had been since we’d had sex. I wanted to heal, but I also wanted to see what his reaction would be.

Surprisingly, he didn’t kick up a fuss, and nothing changed. He was still as involved as before, even more so because he had a whole lot of energy since there were no bedroom gymnastics going on.

It’s true I didn’t want more kids, but that’s not why I told him to get snipped. That was to protect my kids. On the off chance he lost his damn mind again and went sniffing around some other bitch, he would never be able to get her with child; therefore, no other kids could lay claim to what rightfully belonged to my kids. Besides, if he had to pay some other chick child support, that might cut into mine, and I wasn’t having that shit. No one was taking food out of my kids’ mouths.

I made him pay for this one, too, went through the lawyer and everything, he was pissed. Not about the money, but because I chose to go this route instead of just getting married again.

“Let me ask you a question. If you had a job that paid you ten dollars an hour, and you lost that job and found one paying twenty dollars an hour, would you go back to the first one if they begged you to come back?”

“Of course not; that makes no sense economically.” Wax on why don’t you about how stupid it would be.

“When we were married, you gave me money to run the house, pay the bills, and take care of the kids’ needs. Now you have to pay me almost ten times what you were giving me back then every month. Tell me why the hell I should give that up for a piece of paper that meant nothing to you the first time. I was born on a day, but it wasn’t yesterday.”

“But, what about the kids? They’ll get bullied by the other kids in school.”

“Other kids have divorced parents; pull the other one. Look, I gave in on giving Jamie your last name; don’t push it.” That settled that argument for a bit, but he’s prone to bringing it up every so often.

* * *

THE BITCH

* * *

It’s over.He’s back with her now, and they look so happy while I’ve been run out of town. After that whole social media fiasco, word spread like wildfire through my hometown, and my safe haven was no longer safe. My parents were already tired of me being there anyway since I was of no help to them financially or otherwise.

Their old friends were giving them shit, and nobody wanted me around their husbands, so I was made to stay behind closed doors, which I didn’t mind because I got tired of the whispers and stares every time I stepped out the front door.

I was never able to find out who had posted that video that started it all, but I knew the day things really ended for me and Justin. Even after being driven away again from the job, I still had other plans in mind, ways that I could run into him. But he was always with her or the kids, and there was never an opportunity,

He never ever tried to call and seemed to have blocked me everywhere. Even she had blocked me, so there was no way for me to get the latest news on their lives. But how I knew we were over was the day he sent me those pictures of me before the surgeries.

It ate me up inside for a long time that she’d seen them and had laughed at me. Imagining the two of them laughing at me was one of the worst things I’ve ever had to endure, even worse than the day my father threw a few dollars at me and told me it was time to leave.

I didn’t know what to do. I was down but not beaten. I went back to my online forums with a new search in mind and found a minefield of information. I was done with men my age; no way was I going to suffer this humiliation again.

I found a job many miles away and started over. At twenty-nine, I was still not too old to start over and I still looked good once I got cleaned up, but even I could see the dullness in my eyes. Justin had been my one true love.

I wish I had known that from the beginning; maybe I would’ve done things differently. Last I heard, he’d bought her a new house. An even bigger one with a gate and acreage. No way for me to get in there now since the walls were too high. That was one of the last things I learned about them from her socials before I was shut out.

My new thing was hanging out near gold courses at country clubs. I knew that a lot of wealthy elderly men hung around those places, so each weekend, I’d drive around to the few within a couple of hours from my new town.

It only took six months for me to find the right one. I’d spent those months listening in on conversations after singling out a few. There was one in particular that I was very interested in. He was old, older than the others, well into his seventies.

I accidentally bumped into him one day and made him spill his drink all over me. He was sweet enough to offer to pay the cleaner’s bill, and we had to exchange numbers, of course. I played it easy, just like last time, not rushing, taking it slow, but not too slow now, because he was old as dirt.

He must’ve been an okay-looking guy in his heyday, but these days, the years were starting to show. I didn’t care, though; I was more interested in his deep pockets, and from the Forbes list, he had some very deep ones, indeed, even more than Justin.

After our first conversation, he invited me out for drinks. I went but didn’t let things go too far that first night. It was on the fourth night that I pretended to let him talk me into letting him take me home. His home was massive, gorgeous, and even better than the one I had picked out for Justin and me to live in.

The first time I gave him some, he babbled on about some bullshit, and I knew I had him. What was it he said again? “I feel like David in his last days when they brought in that young virgin to warm his bed, only unlike him, I can still use my dick.”

And use it he did. For an old man, he liked to fuck. I’d hit the jackpot and was giddy with excitement. Greg, that’s his name, spoiled me rotten and I loved every minute of it. I remembered some of the bags Callie used to carry, some of the designers she was fond of, and started buying the same, with his money, of course.

I almost shit myself the day he proposed and didn’t even ask for a prenup. Life had finally been fair to me, and I couldn’t be happier. Sure, I had to take a lover as the years went on. By then, he was only good for a fuck at least twice a month, and a girl has needs.

He shouldn’t mind since he got to have me as his wife, a beautiful young thing on his arm to show off to his old buddies. Their wives hated me because they were all old and outdated, scared shitless that more like me would turn up and steal their husbands.

I fucked them too, just for kicks, because I knew their wives hated me, and it gave me such a thrill to screw their men behind their backs. It also got me more gifts, and what more can a girl ask for. There was no wife or girlfriend to steal him away from, but he had one bitch of a daughter whom he hated because she was fat and ugly, and Greg liked beautiful things.

The two of them fought almost every day until I banned her from the house because she was screwing with my time with the gardener. Each time her name was mentioned, Greg would have a fit and forbade me to even mention her in his presence again, which was fine by me.

I made sure she knew each time her Daddy bought me something new and extravagant, and I knew it was eating her up with envy, the fat cow.

Since she was his only child, I knew that with her out of the picture, I stood to inherit it all and was counting down the days to his demise the first time he caught a cold. But that fucker held on.

Now, it’s been eighteen years, and my time has come finally. The funeral was just today, and now it’s time for the reading of the will. I already had plans for the money I was about to make and could feel my juices bubbling at the thought of the hot young man I was going to buy myself to make up for the years of letting that old bastard drool all over me.