Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
I told her that she could never match up to my beautiful wife and I must’ve been blind. It was a midlife crisis; she was trash. I fucked with her head just like she did with mine and didn’t give a damn that she was a woman just like me. Do to me, I’ll do to you.
When she was at her worst, when I knew she was about to strike, I made him take me on vacation to Hawaii because I learned that that was her dream vacation. I think that’s because we went there on our honeymoon, and this grimy bitch wanted to one-up me.
This basic bitch doesn’t know that Hawaii is overrated and international travel is the way to go. It’s like I have to train this twit on how to be a sidepiece.
Anyway, we left the kids with our parents who were only too happy to have their grandchildren to fawn over and spoil for a week while we jetted off to some sunshine and relaxation. He got uppity and asked how ‘Tim’ was handling all this time together, and I reminded him that one, he worked during the day, so I had ample time to see Tim, and two, Tim and I had planned a weekend getaway to make up for this trip of ours.
Guess what that did. It made him go all out to prove that he was the better man. He outdid himself. Funny, I didn’t compete with his affair partner, didn’t try to prove that he should pick me, pick our family. And here he was, battling it out with an imaginary man. My money is on Tim.
Now, I didn’t necessarily want to be on this vacation with him, but I knew the distance would make her even more insane. I posted every step we took on that vacation. Every meal, every walk we took under the moonlight next to the beach, I shared it all with glee while imagining her losing her damn mind.
THE BITCH
I must’ve driven by their house five times before realizing that there was no one home. The posts said they would be back today, so why was there no movement behind the windows? I knew the outside lights were those timer things that came on at a certain time and his car was still not there, so where was he?
My friends keep telling me that it’s over, that I should move on before things go too far with his ex, but as far as I’m concerned, I won him once, and I can win him again. I just need to get close to him, but how?
I no longer work for the same company; we’re not part of the same friend circle because they all rejected me and chose her in the divorce, and the only places I know he hangs out are places I chose in the past. I have no idea where he liked to hang out before we started our affair because he was always afraid of being caught.
I wish I had paid more attention, had asked more questions and at the very least insisted on frequenting the same places he went to with her, but I thought I had all the time in the world for that. I bought into all the promises he made to me, and now look at where that has gotten me.
I don’t even know where things went wrong. I had it all worked out from the moment I decided to go after him. He wasn’t the first fish I’d hooked away from another woman, but he was the biggest one thus far and I had put my all, exhausted every effort to get him.
It wasn’t easy, let me tell you. I think he was genuinely still in love with her, but that was no deterrent. I wasn’t interested in his heart as much as his wallet back then, but that changed with time, starting with the first time we had sex.
Before, I was always able to hold part of myself back with men. I’d seen enough in my parents’ marriage with cheating on both sides to know that giving my heart to a man would be a fatal mistake, so from a very young age, about the time I started dating, I knew how to look out for myself regardless of anyone else’s feelings.
It cost me quite a few boyfriends in the beginning because once they realized that all I wanted from them was what they could give me, they seemed to find fault with that. By the time I was seventeen, I’d learned to hone my skills a bit and was better at hiding my true feelings, but it wasn’t until I stole my roommate’s boyfriend during my second year in college that I realized the thrill of taking something that’s not mine. She was a bitch to me anyway and deserved it. And so was every other woman whose husband I stole.