I gushed at the images, and hoped that Judy didn’t notice it on my face. If it felt that good to even think about it, how good would it feel to actually live it?
Judy
After half an hour of me whining, I paused for a second, remembering something I wanted to ask Morgan about for a while. “Isn’t there some kind of back door here or there?”
“Back door?” she said.
“Some way to invalidate the Prenup. He’s cheating! That has to mean something in court right, something that can play in my favor.”
“Wrong.” She said, not making any effort to squash my hopes kindly. “The contract must explicitly state that, and your contract doesn’t.”
I knew she knew her shit, but I was still skeptical. “…Are you sure?”
“Who’s the lawyer here Judy.” She rose an eyebrow at me. She didn’t like to be questioned when it came to her job.
“Sorry,” I smiled politely. “I was just wondering.”
“…Even if there was and there wasn’t…you don’t have a penny to your name to hire a lawyer, at least a good one that would be competent enough to go against the one that he’d hire, with the recourses he had.”
“…I see.” I looked down at the foot I was rubbing, disappointed that she didn’t think about helping me out with this herself. I understood that business and friendship couldn’t mix well but, this should be an exceptional case right? Maybe something in her firm prevented her from taking on outside cases or something, otherwise, she’d have offered, I know she would’ve.
I kept rubbing her feet for a while and only stopped when my thumbs started aching. I made sure to spend the last half an hour talking about random stuff, fun stuff that we would usually enjoy, to not make it all about my fucked-up marriage. We ended up talking for another half an hour before I decided it was time to go home. We gave each other a kiss goodbye then I left. I called Mark at home to make sure that he wasn’t having any guests over, as I had no idea how I would react if I walked into my bedroom and actually saw them in bed. A wife would usually scream and shout, maybe kick the woman’s ass, I know Morgan would. But me, what would I do. I would probably close the door again and go cry myself to a nap on my couch.
I reached home, took a quick glance around the house. Mark would usually be eating in the kitchen, but he wasn’t there. I walked up the stairs then to our bedroom. I heard some noises from the slightly opened door. I opened it all the way through, to see Mark fixing his tie in front of the mirror. I took a deep breath.
“Where are you going?” I crossed my arms and leaned against the door frame.
He turned his head slightly towards me, his lips curling up in a sly smile, he looked like the biggest jerk on the planet. He huffed and shook his head returning his attention to his tie. “Out.”
“Out where?” I tried to put some conviction in my tone, as a proper wife should.
“…I have an appointment.”
I didn’t have anything to say, so I just stood there as he fixed himself up in the mirror, making sure he looked good for his appointment. Ever since this thing started, I had been truly shocked by the amount of strength I realized I got. I had no idea how I was able to stand there with my sanity intact and with no tears in my eyes. Not so long ago this man had been the love of my life.
He gave his short tidy black hair a final comb before giving a satisfied nod at himself in the mirror. He made his way to me, gave me a light peck on the cheek, then walked away. “See you later honey.”
He left me standing there, and I stayed in my position leaning at the door frame with my arms crossed, unable to move a limp. My ears stayed with him as he walked out of the house, got into his car, and left.
Making sure to stay as calm as possible, I untied the short bun, letting my hair fall, took my sandals off, not caring to remove my sundress, then did the only thing I had the power to do, which was throwing myself in my bed and burying myself under the covers and sleeping.
I woke up the next day to the noise of him getting ready to work. It was a weekend, but he still worked on weekends, being the little workaholic that he was. I kept my head under the covers, not wanting to look at him. When I heard the door close, I kicked the covers away and straightened up. Before I could get to my feet, my eyes randomly glanced then froze at the small side table near my bed. There laid another one of his gifts. It was a black box, and I knew that in it was another one of his necklaces. I didn’t even know why I still wore them. They meant nothing. Regardless, I gently unlaced the one I was currently wearing and removed it, sitting it on the table, before grabbing the box and opening it. I eyed it for a second, it looked nothing special, not that different from the ones he’d been showering me with ever since he started his little affair. My eyes froze suddenly as I held the thin chain in my hand; where the hell had I seen this thing before. I didn’t have to wonder for long, as my temperature dropped and my lungs stopped breathing.
I had to be seeing stuff, my brain had to be messing with me. This couldn’t be the same one. It just couldn’t. I took a relieved breath as I held both ends of the chain away from each other, and realized that the chain with this length couldn’t wrap around someone’s ankle, unless someone was an elephant or something. Then I cursed myself at my stupidity; she could’ve wrapped it twice. Had it been wrapped twice around her ankle yesterday? While half my mind tried to remember, the other half tried to think of one possible reason why, if the sick idea in my head were true, would Mark give me Morgan’s anklet as a present. Why would Morgan? She had to know that I would remember. I had just seen it yesterday and commented on it.
“No,” I puffed, hoping that the confidant puff would make me realize how ridiculous I was being. I rose to my feet, and threw the damn thing on the small table beside the other one. “This is a stupid thought, that you…should dismiss immediately.” I talked to myself in the mirror. No friend would do that. Even if, and that was a big if , Morgan had done this, she couldn’t have had endured hearing me complain and whine and cry to her about it, and still not tell me. She’d have said something. She couldn’t have kept it for herself.
Seeing where this was going, I decided on the best course of action. I didn’t want another sickening thought to join the ones that were already fucking my head up. I was already sick about Mark and his little mistress, and I couldn’t go along my already miserable days wondering about whether or not that mistress was my best friend. The only thing that needed to be done here, was for me to ask her.
I grabbed the necklace. I was already in my sundress and I didn’t care to change it. I slipped some black flats on my feet and ran down the stairs, out of the house, into my car, wanting nothing more than to arrive at Morgan’s house as soon as possible, so she could shout at me how stupid and crazy my suspicions were.
I got there in half the time that the road would usually take me. I busted into her building, hurdling to the elevator and walking inside it restlessly as it took me up. I reached her floor, then stood at her door, making sure to take a long breath, and knock as gently as I could; there was no reason to act all hostile yet.