He’s out again, this time for the whole night. It just doesn’t make sense, he works late every night and tonight he can’t even come home to see his own wife.
What’s happening?
I pace around the room thinking, Always thinking, What’s he up to?
Where is he really?
Why does he lie?
What have I done wrong?
I think about all the things I could do. Why don’t I phone Jenna and ask if Sean is at the meeting, he works in the same department as David, so why wouldn’t he be there? I go over to the note my ‘darling husband’ left me and look at it for about the 10th time. I don’t know why I keep looking at it because every time I do I become more furious and frantic about what he is doing.
I’m not going to be home tonight darling, I have a late meeting at the Balmoral hotel, and I have decided to just stay there over night, so that I don’t wake you. Have a nice night.
Love David.
xx
THAT’S IT! I can no longer control my agitation anymore, I grab the phone and carelessly punch the numbers of Jenna’s house in… 0131 225 6840.
Ring Ring
Ring Ring
Ring Ring
Rii…
JENNA: Hello.
ME: Hi Jenna, it’s Sarah.
JENNA: Oh, hi Sarah. How are you?
ME: OK thanks, you?
JENNA: I’m great thanks.
ME: Good. I’m just phoning to ask if Sean is at the meeting at the Balmoral tonight, and if…
JENNA: What meeting? Sean hasn’t said anything about a meeting, he is in the house just now.
ME: Oh, erm, well. OK then. I must have my days mixed up sorry for bothering you Jenna.
JENNA: No bother Sarah, speak to you soon. Bye.
ME: Bye Jenna. Thanks again.
I’m not going to be home tonight darling, I have a late meeting at the Balmoral hotel, and I have decided to just stay there over night, so that I don’t wake you. Have a nice night.
Love David.
xx
THAT’S IT! I can no longer control my agitation anymore, I grab the phone and carelessly punch the numbers of Jenna’s house in… 0131 225 6840.
Ring Ring
Ring Ring
Ring Ring
Rii…
JENNA: Hello.
ME: Hi Jenna, it’s Sarah.
JENNA: Oh, hi Sarah. How are you?
ME: OK thanks, you?
JENNA: I’m great thanks.
ME: Good. I’m just phoning to ask if Sean is at the meeting at the Balmoral tonight, and if…
JENNA: What meeting? Sean hasn’t said anything about a meeting, he is in the house just now.
ME: Oh, erm, well. OK then. I must have my days mixed up sorry for bothering you Jenna.
JENNA: No bother Sarah, speak to you soon. Bye.
ME: Bye Jenna. Thanks again.
The room spins uncontrollably, my heart starts to race and my stomach flips. It’s happening isn’t it? He’s having an affair!
What have I done wrong?
I need to do something, but what? I wonder if he is really at the Balmoral. Should I go?
That’s it I’m going, I’m not going to let the bastard get away with this! I look around for my bag, but I don’t need anything, all I need is my confidence and self-assurance. I storm out the house and make my way to the Balmoral.
………………………………...................................................................................................................
I get to the Balmoral and demand to know the number of the room that my cheating bastard of a husband is in. After what felt like hours of debating with the receptionist she finally gave me the key and the number of the room he was shaggin’ in. I quickly ran to catch the lift before it closed and press the button. I fimble around with the key, getting more and more anxious and distressed about what I am going to walk in on.
-It might be nothing.
Oh god I hope so.
DING!!
Shit. I’m here. Fuck! I keep walking. Every step I take, I say to myself, keep walking, keep walking, keep walking, to take my mind off what I am just about to do. I look up sharply and…
426
That’s it. Should I knock?
-NO!
Should I just barge in?
-Yes, no. I don’t know.
Aw fuck it! I insert the key into the slot and with a push of confidence swing the door open, and there they are, just as I thought. In bed, covers over them, candles lit.
My heart breaks, I mean literally breaks. I don’t know what to do. I feel the anger build up inside of me. I don’t know what to do. I stand there motionless, until all my anger builds up and I scream.
WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?
I slam the door shut and look at the both of them, waiting for an answer, an excuse, anything. But I get nothing in reply. My ‘darling husband’ just looks at me disturbingly, I excuse the filthy look and ask again. WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS? David quickly sits himself up and starts asking for my forgiveness giving me all these pitiable excuses that don’t mean anything to me. He cheated. We were married. I loved him. I thought he loved me too.
I ask him who he wants? Me, or this whore lying completely oblivious to what is happening around her under the covers with MY husband. He looks at me and looks down. He’s going to say it isn’t he? He doesn’t want me, he wants her.
DAVID: I’m sorry Sarah.
My whole life flashes in front of my eyes and my world comes tumbling down.
I glare at him. I don’t know what to do, what to say. I shamefully turn around and walk out the hotel room, I drag myself along to the lift and as soon as the door opens I collapse into it. What am I going to do? As soon as the lift hit’s the bottom I drag myself towards the door to go home.
When I walk in the house I run up to the bedroom and get all his stuff and chuck it out the window, in the bin, every possible place I can think of, until I realise that this isn’t going to do anything. It’s not going to get him back. He’s not going to feel as distraught as I do. I need to get him back somehow. I walk out of the room in a daze wondering what to do, I go to make my way down the stairs, but miss.
I can feel the blood surrounding me, but I can’t feel anything, no pain, where can I be bleeding from? I try and move but I have no energy, I can’t move myself. The only thing I can feel is this soaring pain inside my heart. He succeeded, he won, I’m dead. The bastard killed me.
I need to do something, but what? I wonder if he is really at the Balmoral. Should I go?
That’s it I’m going, I’m not going to let the bastard get away with this! I look around for my bag, but I don’t need anything, all I need is my confidence and self-assurance. I storm out the house and make my way to the Balmoral.
………………………………...................................................................................................................
I get to the Balmoral and demand to know the number of the room that my cheating bastard of a husband is in. After what felt like hours of debating with the receptionist she finally gave me the key and the number of the room he was shaggin’ in. I quickly ran to catch the lift before it closed and press the button. I fimble around with the key, getting more and more anxious and distressed about what I am going to walk in on.
-It might be nothing.
Oh god I hope so.
DING!!
Shit. I’m here. Fuck! I keep walking. Every step I take, I say to myself, keep walking, keep walking, keep walking, to take my mind off what I am just about to do. I look up sharply and…
426
That’s it. Should I knock?
-NO!
Should I just barge in?
-Yes, no. I don’t know.
Aw fuck it! I insert the key into the slot and with a push of confidence swing the door open, and there they are, just as I thought. In bed, covers over them, candles lit.
My heart breaks, I mean literally breaks. I don’t know what to do. I feel the anger build up inside of me. I don’t know what to do. I stand there motionless, until all my anger builds up and I scream.
WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?
I slam the door shut and look at the both of them, waiting for an answer, an excuse, anything. But I get nothing in reply. My ‘darling husband’ just looks at me disturbingly, I excuse the filthy look and ask again. WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS? David quickly sits himself up and starts asking for my forgiveness giving me all these pitiable excuses that don’t mean anything to me. He cheated. We were married. I loved him. I thought he loved me too.
I ask him who he wants? Me, or this whore lying completely oblivious to what is happening around her under the covers with MY husband. He looks at me and looks down. He’s going to say it isn’t he? He doesn’t want me, he wants her.
DAVID: I’m sorry Sarah.
My whole life flashes in front of my eyes and my world comes tumbling down.
I glare at him. I don’t know what to do, what to say. I shamefully turn around and walk out the hotel room, I drag myself along to the lift and as soon as the door opens I collapse into it. What am I going to do? As soon as the lift hit’s the bottom I drag myself towards the door to go home.
When I walk in the house I run up to the bedroom and get all his stuff and chuck it out the window, in the bin, every possible place I can think of, until I realise that this isn’t going to do anything. It’s not going to get him back. He’s not going to feel as distraught as I do. I need to get him back somehow. I walk out of the room in a daze wondering what to do, I go to make my way down the stairs, but miss.
I can feel the blood surrounding me, but I can’t feel anything, no pain, where can I be bleeding from? I try and move but I have no energy, I can’t move myself. The only thing I can feel is this soaring pain inside my heart. He succeeded, he won, I’m dead. The bastard killed me.
[OH NOOOOO. ITS NOT EVEN WORKING PROPERLY, THE LAYOUT HAS CHANGED. GUTTED! WILL TRY AND GET IT TO YOU ANOTHER WAY SO THAT YOU CAN SEE WHAT IT IS REALLY LIKE]
AMYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY