“You son of a bitch.”
Fury rushed through me at the sight of the lily-white ass pumping away at the whore beneath it. Okay, if I were being honest, she probably wasn’t a real whore. Nevertheless, that bitch was in the process of fucking my boyfriend so, in my mind, she was a whore.
The couple on the bed quickly jumped apart at my growled words, but it didn’t change anything. I’d already seen more than I wanted. Devastation would overwhelm me later, but right now, I was pissed off. Five years wasted on this pencil-dick cheater.
“So—Sofie, what are you doing here?” The asshole, and now ex-boyfriend, stuttered. The woman next to him had the courtesy of not making eye contact with me, staring shamefacedly into her lap, sheets pulled up to cover her giant, and no doubt fake, tits.
“I live here, Stuart. I got off work early and wanted to surprise you. I guess I’m the one who got the surprise. Now, get dressed and get the hell out of my house. Don’t forget to take the tramp with you.” If looks could kill, they’d both be dead.
“But, Sofie, baby, I’m sorry. It was just this one time. She means nothing to me.” At this, the brunette turned to gape at him. Tears sprung to her eyes, and for the briefest moment, I felt a spark of sympathy for her, but I quickly squashed it. This chick was screwing a man who was already taken. She deserved what was coming to her.
“Save it, Stuart. Nothing you can say will make this okay. I’m going to say it one more time. Then, I’m getting my gun.” Apparently, that was the magic word, because before I could blink, the two of them dove out of the bed and began dressing faster than I’d ever seen anyone get dressed. The woman was the first to finish, and as she slunk past me, she quietly whispered, “Sorry, he didn’t tell me he was married.” I only nodded as she continued out the door, closing it sharply behind her.
Stuart, the idiot, was slower to move. He’d better hurry the hell up, because even I didn’t know if I was bluffing about the gun or not. My uncle used to take me hunting when I was a kid so, yes, I owned a gun and knew how to use it. Whether I would actually follow through on my threat, I wasn’t sure about. I don’t think either of us wanted to test me to find out.
“Get. Out.” My patience had run thin. I headed toward the closet where I kept my gun. Stuart didn’t need to know that it wasn’t loaded. I had just reached the lock box when I heard the front door slam shut. I smiled smugly, but it quickly left my face. In its place, tears began to fall. I cursed at myself for letting Stuart reduce me to crying. I swore after my dad left us, I’d never let another man make me cry. I hastily wiped the wetness away and inhaled a deep breath, slowly letting it back out. I refused to shed any more tears on a man not worth their salt.
I needed to get out of this house. Away from the tainted memories of what I’d just witnessed. Of my life shattering into a thousand pieces. Pieces I knew I’d have to pick up later. Tonight, I wanted to forget. To drown my sorrows in the bottom of a tequila bottle.
I was glad it was Friday, and I didn’t have to work in the morning. I grabbed my phone out of my purse and called my best friend.
“We’re going out. I don’t care where, but we’re going out, and I’m getting shit-faced.”
“What happened?” I heard the concern in Callie’s voice.
“I just caught Stuart in bed with some woman. I don’t want to talk about it right now. I just want to get drunk and forget about it for one day. Can you help me do that?”
“Oh my god, Sofie, I’m so sorry. Of course, I’m on my way. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” We each hung up, and I headed straight for the kitchen. I wanted a drink now. I needed to get the pictures out of my head. How many women had he slept with before this one?
I wasn’t stupid. Our sex life had never been that great to begin with, but I had noticed in the last six months that it had gotten even worse. Now, I knew why. I thanked the Lord we still used protection, because god knows what kind of disease he could have given me. I’m sure the woman today was not the first woman he’d cheated on me with. Enough. Stop thinking about it.
I grabbed a glass from the cupboard and opened a bottle of wine, pouring myself a hefty portion. I quickly chugged it before refilling the cup. This one I sipped a little slower since I was already feeling the effects of the first one. I didn’t drink often, but when I did, I drank a lot. There were some benefits to being a bigger woman. I wasn’t obese, but I was definitely overweight. And I could hold my liquor. I’d drunk several college boys under the table. The secret was a glass of water between drinks. Or at least that’s what my gran taught me.
My gran always told me I had the curves of a 50’s pinup model. I could kiss her for her sweet words. Because I knew what I was. I was a thirty-six-year- old, plump as a pigeon, newly single woman who was now halfway to becoming a crazy cat lady. I just needed the cats. Maybe I’d go to the shelter tomorrow. Tonight though, tonight I was getting rip-roaring drunk and forgetting all my troubles.