Grace said nothing. She’d been caught and she knew to voice her displeasure at her treatment would only mean he would stop and threaten her with the envelopes. She felt his hand hook her p@anties and pull the fabric to the side. His J0yst!ck slammed into her K!ttyC@t and he pumped vigorously until his Pour was spraying the insides of her sx. When he pulled out, he buttoned up, pushed her away and left the house.
Once again discarded as the Slt she was Grace slid to the floor and buried her face in her hands. She remained there for hours and had it not been for the chiming of the Grandfather clock in the hall she would have still been there when her kids came home.
That afternoon as the kids did their chores, played their games and studied for the next days lessons. Grace was a shell of a human. She made supper and waited for her husband to come home. When he did, she took the box she’d gotten in the mail and followed him into the bedroom.
He stared at her, questioning the look of fear and panic that was easy to read on her tear stained face. “What’s going on?” he asked as she opened the box and handed him the papers, the disk, and the photographs.
“I’m a Sl*t. A Lovepeddler. A cunt,” Grace admitted.
Her husband took the papers, sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at them before glancing up at her. “I told Chad you’d break before the week was up.”
Grace’s world began to spin and her head began to throb and ache. A dark tunnel seemed to surround her as she listened to her husband tell her about his old college rowing partner, who was a PI for a law firm in Florida. He told her about how he had begun to doubt Grace’s fidelity when he had discovered a hidden stack of credit card charges and receipts for hotels that were just a few hours away. He had asked Chad to look into things and what his friend had uncovered had been unnerving.
“So you cooked all of this up?” she asked, as she slid to the bed and sat on its edge.
“I wanted to see if you were truly as much as a cunt as all of that led me to believe,” he shrugged his shoulders, took a deep breath and whispered, “guess you are.”
Grace shook her head back and forth, still denying that her husband had been a part of everything.
“Chad’s got a place for you tonight and the rest of the week, the weekend too. I’ll take care of the kids.”
She looked up. “I’m not going back to him!” she shouted.
“You’ve got no other choice. With all of this,” his hand swept through the air, signaling to the papers and evidence on the bed, “you’ll be ruined in this town. Finish your week with Chad and the divorce will be a lot less messy.”
Grace licked her lips, turned her head and shuffled her way back through the house. She looked around, and was thankful that the kids were in their rooms. She glanced back at her husband who stood in the hall staring back at her. Neither said a word, as she picked up her keys and headed out the door.
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