PAYBACK IS A BITCH

eatest gift which

years of marriage, Billy has only thrown me a surprise party onc

F

a surprise birthday party for six years of our marriage, even though he didn't understand my dislike of

dn't want any fuss for my birthday, which I expressively communicated to Billy days before D-day when I noticed the excited g

isaster happened after my shower, when I tried to blow my hair dry. My hair d

know how uncomf

dinner to a fancy, newly opened Italian restaurant that I have been dying to eat at, which he has been promising to

k about epic

when I opened the door and turned on the lights, I got the shit sc

m in panic, screaming the house is on fire. He and his brother had been playing with a ligh

m my family, ended with the dramatic arrival of the fire service a

erson-a perfectionist. I want things planned out and accounted for.

he present time, and I am

g in horror at the sight of him fucking some ginger head with great vigor on his de

only one who got l

t nightmare. His exaggerated expression of disbelief woul

t you think," he mutters nervously as he withdraws his thing from inside

ion. He also wore a funny expression of remorse, which begs the q

had glared at me when I first appeared by the door, irritated that someone dared to interrupt her little office tryst, but h

heir wives are decorative furniture, ever stuck at home, never to be seen? Or that the ri

nto place. I sneered at how short the red dress was, and

the red slingshot lying on

ground. I didn't shift from my position when she reach

weet and meek side. The side that never argued with him was always suppo

darker side that rarely rears its h

small stature and quiet nature and decided to pick on me. I tolerated her bullying until she wet my dress and made it look like I peed my pants. I became the l

d be fun to poke fun at the class virgin. He asked me out to Prom on a dare-which I didn't know-propelling my

e coin by poisoning him with laxatives

hen humiliated, and Billy just humi

she stutters, eyes st

ve her a small room to wiggle through and felt a small of s

increased. I stared at my husband with furious

e starts with a pleading expression, hoping to implore my com

im having sex with another woman on his desk, but he says it is not what it looks like. I am sure I had my eyes checked a few days ago, and they s

with a fake sweetness, a dark gleam in my eyes, my arms fold

revealed by the flicker of surprise that flashed acros

my mind while my husband racked his brain for way

ice person. I am quiet, reserved, and gentle, but not nice. A l

pulled my legs.

off my husband's wayward dick p

wn up to what he did, which is obvious to both of us. His defensive expression

ou are right; it is what it looks like," he

sion. Of course, I am right. I

to meet mine, with a renewed hope flickering in them as if what

Isla, with this, but I prom

. Does he think that this, being the fir

he delusi

didn't melt as he wanted, and hi

w manipu

it," he says in a reserved tone. His demeanor is mee

told him to jump out of the window of his office. Would he do it? Wouldn't it be fun to find out? For a mome

and terrified him. "What are you thin

it is to hear him

ht, here

e expecting, but for the life of me, I am curious. Does it make a difference? No, yet

you want to know t

me. This patronizing part of him makes me feel like

!" I demanded, m

onths," he admi

punch went straigh

n months ago, I thought my husband was working hard at his desk to

d my hand to forestall his explanation. I don't w

d in a pained voice, staring at him l

red with shame and guilt, before looking back

don't know what happened; opening a new company is stressful. I

Hold on, Mr., I haven't been angry at you for five

Hell

lying on the ground of his office in his pool

home tonight," I snarled,

to hold myself together all this time I stood in his office, and now the pain of

rs down my face turned to violent sobs. I crumbled against the wa

Billy more for turning me into

myself enough to pass the security man I met earlier. One lo

speedwalking like I was in a walking marathon. I

make sure I was alright. My courteous upbringing wouldn't let me ignore

I lowered my window. I might have masked the trace of my tear

not unkindly, but n

me through the window, and the street and resid

rs Reinhdart? Did you see you

ng, so my well-being isn't what is after, but the story behind

"I am

I wanted to address the gentleman who, even though he was poke-nosing

he supplied his nam

d stiffly and raised my windows aga

w how long I drove before I spied a dive bar hidden unde

nt to be me. I want to be reckless and uninhibited. To act with

g about the other drivers. Of course, they let me know how they felt about my

idn't

bar and parked. I came down and walke

hey lingered because I stuck out like a sore thumb in the reserved, high-neck, flowy gown. I must look like one of those Stepford wives, which, unfortunately,

the bar. I gave the bar stool a skeptical look, a

r saw my expression and raised a bushy

arance impre

o his chest. I wondered how he could keep so much hair on his chin and the fles

ll looked the same, and tonight, I am not Isla, who worries about everything be

artender asked skeptically as if

ter elegantly, and the gu

y, old habi

est punch you have.

"Are you

H

r looked like he didn't think I would go through w

ven though my express

ed calls from Billy. One message from Gloria, my best friend, asked how the dinner was going.

new. I think s

myself. My mother did her best despite being uneducated to bring me up as a lady-a woman with morals and self-respect. Indulging in

s my drink on the bar top, sn

drink to my lips. I didn't drink immediately as

" He asked curiously a

mumble, taking a heavy gulp,

t the horrible taste while bowing

my theatrics. "Like it?" His bro

Is he

he roars with laughter. This time, it was loud

f the drink. The taste didn't magically improve,

ender comments casually with a look of interest a

am drunk, but not drunk enough to find Mr Biker bartender

in my glass. I slammed the glassware on the bar top dramati

onds regretfully to my comment about

turned sour when I remembered the goo

it?" The bartender asked kindly

ing his request. "I don't want to talk; I want to drink an

, but I was so smashed to

that case, your drinks are on the

o kind," I gushed w

k much, which became a reality because my face fell heavily