I got up and put on a fresh bunny suit. John was waiting in the kitchen. “Fix breakfast again. Same thing as yesterday.”
The breakfast and kitchen cleanup were completed in silence. When I had finished and started the dishwasher, John directed me into the room next to my bedroom. It was the same as my bedroom, but totally empty. “I want you to paint this room,” he said.
“What???”
“Paint the room. There’s paint, rollers, brushes, and drop-clothes in the closet. Just this room. Do a good job, and this will be your final task of the weekend. And don’t just paint over the switches and outlets. Remove the covers and replace them when you’re done.”
I looked at him, incredulous. “Paint the room? You’re joking. You’re paying me to do maintenance? That’s all?”
“So far, yes. But get busy. You don’t have a lot of time to finish.” Then he walked out.
I stood there for a second, then looked in the closet. There was a five-gallon bucket of sky-blue paint and a bunch of tools and supplies. I grabbed a drop-cloth and spread it onto the floor. I found a screwdriver and removed the outlet and switch covers, then taped over the actual outlets and switches with masking tape. I poured some paint into a roller tray and got to work.
It didn’t take as long as I thought it would. The room wasn’t that big, and there were no fiddly bits to paint over or around. When I was done, I put the outlet covers back on, folded up the drop-cloth, and put all the supplies back in the closet.
He had said this was my final task, so I went next door to my room and took a shower.
When I was done, I found my clothes were cleaned and laid out on the bed. I got dressed and went to look for John. I found him in the den.
“Ah, there you are! I assume you finished painting?”
“Yes. You said that was my final task?”
“It was. Are you ready to go back to your husband now? You should know that he was quite upset when you left.”
“I know. I’ll make it up to him.” I felt a sudden surge of guilt. My sweet husband didn’t deserve what I did to him that night. He’s probably been going crazy imagining all kinds of things. My guilt got worse when I realized that this was the first time I’d thought of him all weekend.
“The car should be here by now. This way.” He walked out the front door and I followed.
As we were standing there, the Mercedes pulled up. It was being driven by the bodyguard from the restaurant.
“Your ride is here. Hop in, he’ll take you home. The money should be deposited in your account by the time you get there.”
I opened the door, but before I got in, I turned to him and asked “So what was up with all the tasks? I was assuming you were wanting a sex slave or something.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not unattractive, but with a snap of my fingers, I can get women that make you look like some sort of cave troll, and for far less than a million dollars. This was more of a social experiment. Could I get a married woman to leave with me in front of her husband? How much would it take?”
I looked at him in disbelief. Without replying, I sat down in the car and shut the door. The bodyguard drove me home in silence. Not a word was spoken.
When we arrived at the apartment, I got out of the car and shut the door. He drove off. I walked to the door. It was locked. I unlocked it. I was glad my key still worked. “Jack? Honey? I’m back. Where are you?”
—————————-
JACK, Friday night.
I looked at him. “What would you do if it was your wife?”
“Beat the shit out of him, of course. Which is why he sent me here to hold you for a bit. But they’re gone now, so I’m letting you go.”
I stood there for a second. The bodyguard waited for me to do anything, then got into his own car and drove off.
“Hey Jack! If you’re leaving, you need to pay your tab first.” It was Mike, the restaurant manager. We’d gotten to know many of the staff over time we’d been going there.
“FUCK! Didn’t you see what happened? My wife just left me! And you’re worried about a bill?”
“Wow. Don’t worry about it, I’ll comp it. Sorry. I would have never thought she’d do that.”
“Yeah, me either.”
Mike handed me her purse. “She left this at the table.” Her phone was in a side pocket.
“Thanks. Not sure what the hell I’m gonna do now.”
“Don’t do anything too stupid. Go home. Think about things.”
“Good idea.”
I don’t remember the drive home. As soon as I shut the front door, everything hit me at once. My wife was gone. My marriage was gone. All the dreams and hopes we had were gone. I collapsed onto the sofa and stared at the ceiling. All I could think was “She’s gone.”
I don’t know how long I stayed that way. I must have fallen asleep at some point, because I was opening my eyes and it was morning. At first, I was confused by why I was on the sofa, but then the memories came back.
The anguish hit me again, just as hard. Then something else hit – anger. How dare she do this to us! She tossed away everything we had for money!
I held onto the anger and shoved the anguish deep down inside. Act now, hurt later.
There was no way we could stay together after this. I’d have to see a lawyer on Monday, but for now there were things I could do. I had until Sunday evening.
First, the finances. Paid the joint credit card, then cancelled it. Then I visited the bank. I opened a new account in my name only, transferring half of the savings account into it, minus $2000. That I took in cash, because I was going need it. I also transferred half of the checking account.