A thousand thank yous to cw5523729 for editing my very first submission to Literotica, I treasured your suggestions and I really appreciate the effort you've put into making this little story of mine readable.
'Tis the season of All Hollow's Eve, so I'd like to invite all you fine gents to join me in this tale of Katherine Osmond-Hart, a hardworking wife on her journey to rediscover true love.
*
The porch light was flickering as I walked in.
When was Frank gonna fix that? My euphoric mood took an instant dive, that light represented all that was wrong with our marriage.
The years I poured into this man who couldn't be bothered to move a finger around the house. When was the last time he took me out to dinner? Years ago.
With our daughter NaDana breezing through college, I once again wondered what was I still doing with this excuse of a man.
"I'm home, " I yelled. There was no answer. It was dark inside the house. Where was he? I'm sure I saw his rusty Astra parked in the driveway.
"Frank?" I called. A silent dread replied. Maybe the idiot fell in the bathtub and knocked himself dead. If only...
I found him sitting in the kitchen, beer in hand, staring at the tile floor. Had he always been this small and pathetic?
Frank was once a giant. I'm sure of it. He had this glow about him that drew in all the girls in high school. He was witty, charming and his naughty sense of humor made even the cheerleaders moist. I had to punch Molly O'Hare's nose into a pulp at the back of the gym to get them skanks to take a hint and take a hike.
Where had he gone to, so many years ago, leaving me only this husk?
Frank's eyes didn't register my presence.
He was lost in his own private little world, holding a photo.
There were others, spewing from inside an envelope on the kitchen table. It read Hyeon Peters, Private investigator.
My heart skipped a beat. He knew.
Even before I grabbed the picture from his hand, I knew he knew.
A deranged woman was howling like a Banshee.
Travis Maynard fucked her from behind, pounding his monster of a cock into the farthest reaches of her sphincter while his fingers slapped her pussy, toying with her clit.
The woman was me.
One of the best orgasms he'd given me in the last six months since he joined Dawson & Reid. Travis was a lover almost as gifted as Perry or Owen before him; I remembered this well, it was at the Miller reception, the week prior. Frank had refused to accompany me. Said he was tired. Now I wondered if he already knew. Anger replaced fear. There is nothing as sacred to a woman as her secrets. How dare he invade my privacy?
"You... you hired a detective to spy on me?" I lashed out. Frank jolted, realizing I was there. There was shock in his eyes as I screamed at him.
"I can't believe you'd do something like this to me. How could you stoop so low?" I continued. Frank regained his bearings, got up and collected the pictures, putting them back in the envelope.
"How can I trust you again after this, Frank? How much did it all cost?" I continued on the offense. "Do you know how far behind we are with the student loan payments?"
He snatched the picture from my hand, making me flinch. I had forgotten how huge his hands were. Frank stumbled out of the kitchen and I doubled down on the assault.
"This is all your fault! If you had been more attentive and caring to my needs, I wouldn't have to go out and look for cocks!" I vented out. "Nineteen years and you let me slip away, Frank!"
He turned at the door and finally said, in a low, harsh tone:
"Kate, you have ten minutes to pack your stuff and leave or I'll kick you out the door myself. We are through." There was fury in his eyes. For a moment, I was sure he was going to hit me, but Frank just walked off, up into the bedroom.
Silence enveloped me in my empty kitchen. Eerie shapes loomed in from the corners of my eyes. A dark shape slithered from behind the fridge. Its auburn hair vanished under the kitchen table. Mom had given us that table. My fingers traced Its dented corner, a souvenir from when I cut my thumb cooking.
Skillet pork chops with cabbage.
Frank had sprung into action, shoving the table to the side to get to me. He was so fast, cleaning my wound and bandaging it. He had soothed me by humming Tokyo Mew Mew's theme song, NaDana's favorite show on her 4th grade. I found hard to believe there was once a time when the sound of his voice could cure all my ills.
Something green drew in my eyes. An old parrot fridge magnet. Had it always been there?
Lightning pierced through my brain.
"I am the very model of a modern Major General."
Frank, NaDana, and Rosamund had spent endless evenings reciting and preparing for the school play. I had chided them. NaDana didn't have to know the lines by heart, students were allowed to bring their sheets to the stage. No, not NaDana, ever the perfectionist.
Disaster struck on the day of the play, of course. NaDana forgot her lines twice and twice Frank got up from his chair, screaming "Mauser Rifle" and "Aristophanes". The audience burst into laughter while I shrinked in my seat, mortified. At the end, the whole school had converged on us, congratulating NaDana for her dazzling performance. A shy Samoan girl dressed as Mabel held her hands and when she ran away, NaDana was holding that parrot magnet.
"Look, Daddy, now I really am a pirate!"
A blanket of long forgotten memories surrounded me. I saw past Christmas parties. Family meetings.
And then I saw Amber.
Amber Clark, from Research.
She divorced her husband back in '96, hoping she'd find someone better. Crow's feet in her eyes, auburn dye receding from her graying hair, back hunched in an early onset of rheumatism. Still cruising bars looking for some action. One day she got to work wearing shades to hide a black eye.
"Rough loving, huh?" I joked.
"Yeah," she replied with a joyless grin, "that's the price for fucking an Energizer bunny."
