She knew what she had to do. Still, she said nothing. She knew better than to have a confrontation. When he drank heavily, his new alter ego manifested itself. By now, his violent side had garnered him his new moniker. More and more, he went by his infamous nickname, “Cutter.” Even now, a railgun lay on the coffee table beside them, easily within his reach. She shuddered at the thought of what he might do to her if she made him angry while he was in this state of mind. She thought of her kids. What kind of stigmatism would they grow up with if she got herself killed in this situation? How would they remember her? No, she would simply bide her time.
Eventually, he passed out, and she slipped quietly out of the house. Her head was throbbing, and she could barely open her eyes as sensitive to light as they were. She assumed it was an aftereffect of the drug. The muscles in her belly and thighs were extremely sore, and her vagina hurt to the point that she was having a hard time walking now. The shame that came with sobering up seemed to magnify every ache, sting and burn. But she pushed it down, promising herself it would be the last time she ever felt it.
As her car drove her home, she pondered how Cutter would react once he realized she was never coming back. Initially, he would assume she was trying to pull off one of her many attempts at going straight, just like she had done so many times before. A few days or weeks, and she’d be back for more, just like always. And, like always, he’d be waiting to humiliate her for her audacity and arrogance. She felt revulsion well up inside her, disgust at her own weakness, for she’d never given him any reason to think otherwise. He saw her as nothing more than a weak, needy, over-sexed slut, and with good reason. She’d become just that.
Why the hell would he think any different?
At that point, the question would be, ‘what would happen once he realized she was for real this time?’ Would he come after her? Would he try to blackmail or threaten her? Would he tell Chris? Would he even care? Maybe he would just move on to another conquest. Who knew? Whatever happened, she would have to worry about that later.
She stopped at the twenty-four-hour pharmacy on the way home and refilled her prescription of Inst-A-Bort. She also purchased a spermicidal douche. After all, why take any chances? Even though these were supposed to be the enlightened times, she still could never bring herself to look the pharmacist in the eye when he handed her the pills that made it so convenient for her to fuck around. Even though it wasn’t their family druggist, she still feared Chris or a neighbor would walk in on her one day in the middle of what would be a very awkward transaction.
She held herself together long enough to make it home. Once she was satisfied everyone was in bed, she stripped off her clothes, taking every piece she had on that night and stuffing them into a garbage bag. Completely nude, she then tiptoed straight out back to the waste disposal unit. She turned it on “manual” cycle, making sure the clothing would be compacted before anyone else had a chance to notice it. When the morning sun arose, she wanted nothing left of this night in her possession; at least nothing material.
She then drew a bath in the whirlpool tub, running the water as hot as she could stand it. Thankfully, by this time, Chris had started sleeping in the guest bedroom. Lowering her sore and battered body into the steaming hot water, she finally allowed herself to relax. Once she did, the dam broke, the tears and emotions pouring out and gut-wrenching sobs racking her body.
She cried for a solid hour, sitting there alone in the tub. She held a washcloth to her face, trying to muffle the noise. She cried in relief that it was over … and yes, by God, it was over!
She thought of her parents, thankful that her beloved father would never know what his daughter had become. She thought of her husband and children, feeling the shame of knowing she’d cheated on them. Not only had she done so, but she had done so in such a way as to show blatant disregard for them all, especially Chris. Even though by now, it was apparent to both of them that it was all over but sitting down with the attorneys, he still deserved better. He may not have been the best of husbands, but in all fairness, she shared a lot of the blame. He just never could measure up to the competition, but then, there should have never been any in the first place. Looking back, she realized later that he never really had a chance. She was never going to love him the way she loved Tiger. Still, he was a good father and a decent man.
She cried for the man with whom she’d been in love with all along. Neither marriage, family, nor adultery had done anything to change that.
