Woman of the House

It has come to my attention, for some time now, that my bastard of a husband is cheating on me. I’d be lying if I said I was surprised, bu—fuck.

Judy winced then reluctantly stopped writing, and let her squinting eyes look through her window for a second. It was a sunny day, during which she’d usually be out with Mr. Jerk, taking a walk in the garden. Not today though. Not for a long time.

She’d been delaying this moment for two months. Somehow, writing this moment in her journal made it more real. But there was no denying it anymore. Ever since she learned how to write, she’d stayed true to her journal, she couldn’t lie to it anymore.

I wasn’t surprised that much by the act, but by the pathetically small amount of guilt that Mr. Jerk has shown about it. which turned out to be none, no guilt. Not one fucking shred of remorse, and no intention of stopping.

Her hand stopped again by itself, and she slammed the notebook and stormed up from her desk. She put her journal in the drawer then threw herself in bed, recalling the cursed day.

When she married Mark, she knew she wasn’t marrying a smart man, but she’d never have thought that he was stupid enough to get caught the way he did. It was almost like he wanted to get caught.

That day she was walking back home from her appointment at the spa close to their house. She decided to take a little longer road and walk through the garden, that she and Mark usually hung out in. At first, her eyes took a random glance at a couple sitting on one of the wooden benches near duck lake. She was behind them so could only see their back, but when the man’s head turned slightly to the side, she immediately recognized him. She didn’t think much of it. Mark did have some female friends at work, and she thought this just might be one of them. She thought she should go and say hey. But when her eyes saw his arm wrap slowly around the woman’s shoulder, she froze, her feet nailed to the pavement under her.

She stood there in her little sundress and her little sandals, her face all made pretty with makeup and her hands and feet pedicured and manicured, just for the fucking asshole that had his arm around that other woman.

She saw his lips move, curled in one of his silly smiles, like he was whispering something devious, and then she heard the woman laugh. When his head leaned closer, and the woman’s head started doing the same, Judy knew what she was about to witness, and it was like a slap to her face, making her snap her head, turning her eyes away, and spinning her whole body to the opposite direction. She froze there for a second, her eyes too dry to shed a single tear, while she knew full well that behind her, just twenty meters away, sitting there on the bench her husband was making out with another woman. She didn’t see her face, and she had no intention to.

She walked home that night and cried herself to a long nap. She knew their marriage was in a rut lately. But they were married for five years, a rut at this point was normal. And it wasn’t like she didn’t try, she kept herself in shape, she kept taking care of herself just like the days when they were going out on their first dates. And she appreciated that he did the same, they were both 35 but they looked in their mid-twenties. But looked like all the effort he had been putting in to keep looking like a handsome stud wasn’t for her, but for the whore he’d been fucking. The only thing that she was sure he had been doing for her, was the beautiful necklaces he kept gifting her without occasion. But she speculated that he might just be buying them out of guilt.