I failed. After receiving the divorce papers from a civil server, I felt my world would never be the same. I never knew how it got this bad in the first place? My husband was truly a good man. He needed a better wife, anyways. I was lost, helpless at work, and sat at my desk in my little cubicle, crying. I never in my life felt so all alone or misunderstood. I read the papers three times. Every single time, I wished it were some sort of perverted joke or perhaps I'd get a phone call that I had somehow been served mistakenly. However, the phone call never came, no joke had been played, and I felt helpless. I wished I could call a friend or family member at this time of need but my sister would be full of "I told you so". My friends wouldn't do anything but try to comfort me with the same old rhetoric of all people's failures. No, I had to go home regroup and think about my plan of action.
Many women would have given up, but not me. I was determined to get my man back, no matter what it took. I sat on my couch after the day being a blur. I reread the papers again at least twice. It said I had six weeks before the divorce was final. This means I had five and a half weeks to get my plan of action going. I meant to lose forty two pounds in that time, join a gym, and grow my hair which I had cut too short for my husband likes. I would wear dresses instead of slacks all the time. I had to become, what I once was, instead of what I was, which turned my man away from me. I needed to bring sexy back from the depths of hell, where she had fallen. I would eat healthy little snacks like carrot sticks, green apples, and celery sticks with peanut butter. I will drink only water and diet cola only once a day. I would exercise like a maniac starting tonight. I had my plan then I would spring my trap. This was my mission to get my husband back. If I failed at this then I wouldn't be less of a woman for trying but, I would have at least tried. I was determined that no matter what happened, I would try. Hell, if my husband was drowning, I would at least swim out to save him, right. Well, he didn't know he was drowning in a sea of shit and it was up to me to rescue him from the shit swamp.
I went into my walk-in closet to see if any of my old jeans, shorts, skirts, and even a few dresses would fit. Not one outfit I picked out would remotely fit my fat ass. Yeah, I can say fat ass because that is what I had become. My husband deserved better, much better.
I went for a long two mile walk the first evening before the sunset. I tried like hell to make a big circle in sneakers, my red jogging sweats and red little ankle socks. I walked at a steady pace noticing how tired my legs got. I watched as my body flab jiggled and my thighs rubbed together. I was thinking to myself, day one of the road to recovery. I walked angry, determined, and without much motivation other than the anger. I was angry at myself, my husband, the little shit girlfriend who didn't care that he was married, and the fucking civil server who delivered the papers with a smug look. I should have punched the little nerd in his acne covered face. I walked hard. I heard dogs barking at me not caring if they were loose or not. Right now I was not the redhead to fuck with.
Oh yeah, I'm a red haired woman about five seven, green eyes, one hundred sixty eight pounds, with light freckles which my husband used to love. Now he's chosen a blonde bimbo with blue eyes, a tiny frame of about a hundred and ten or so pounds, and tattoos all over. She wore her hair long with ringlets of curls past her shoulders. She also had an annoying raucous laugh when she played up to men. My husband was definitely fooled by her. The reason I know her so well, is because she used to be someone I called a friend, until she double crossed me. Now Candy Martin is my worst ever enemy. If she were on fire in my front yard, I wouldn't pour piss out of a boot to put the bitch out. Yeah, I'd probably use charcoal fluid to douse the flames.
All of these evil little thoughts were running through my brain as I continued walking back up the hill towards my home. I was still angry, hurt, and alone. My husband better see the light before he sees permanent darkness is what my last thought was entering my home. I walked inside and was about to drink a nice cold glass of ice tea but then decided the tap water was what was on the agenda. I reached inside the refrigerator, retrieved the ice tea, and poured the entire pitcher down the drain. I then got a clean glass out of the cabinet rinsed it out, dispensed ice cubes from the automatic ice dispenser into the glass, turned the tap water on and filled the glass. It was at that moment when the phone rang.
I still angry looked at the phone to check the caller I.D. but the number and name registered private. I walked over answering the phone. I heard a little giggle it was the one person who was gloating no doubt and she didn't truly want to get on my worst side.
Instead of hello I said, "Candy what the fuck do you want, you husband stealing whore?"
Candy got quiet then said, "Steven asked me to call to see about getting some things this weekend and wanted to know if you were going to be civil about this procedure?"
I drank some water while I listened to her bullshit then I said, "Sure, I will honey but he has nothing here for him to take with him. Deliver this message to my husband for me, are you listening closely? If he doesn't return to me then nobody will have him, got it. Oh and ask my husband, since when does he need a spokesperson to talk to his wife? Tell the piece of shit to call me personally and not hide behind a sorry ass cunt to do his calling. "
Candy was quiet again then said, "Hey, this is a recorded conversation and you just all but made a threat towards your husband's life. Don't you know you could wind up in jail?"
I said, "Let's get something straight right now bitch, that wasn't a threat it is a promise. I don't care if I'm locked up because they will have to bond me out sooner or later, got it. Oh and sweetheart, I give a shit about jail right about now so, if you push me I'll be there to clean house. I don't make threats so, that too is a promise."
Candy didn't say anything then she simply hung up. I drank the rest of my water content that she and I would one day be alone together.
The next morning, I woke up satisfied with the soreness I felt in my muscles. I jumped into the shower, washed, and was out the door to work. I worked all day diligently and undisturbed. I got off work, headed straight for a local gym and joined. It was called Hot Spot Spa.
Hans the owner was a dietician, a body shaper, and fitness expert. He was tall, blonde haired, with soft brown eyes, and muscled all over. There was only one drawback, for me that is, he was gay. I told him everything once I found out that he was gay. I confided things like my husband was the only man I had ever been with in a sexual way and that I needed him to be back with me one day. I began to cry.
Hans stopped me telling me to stop feeling sorry for myself and get to work. At first, I thought he was a heartless bastard who didn't give a shit but he surprised me by putting my situation into perspective when he said, "If you let this other hooch momma steal your man, then you aren't worth my time girl. Now get up ride the stationary bike for ten minutes and meet me in the weight room. I'll set the time. I noticed he set the time for twelve minutes not ten. Then he said, "Well come on princess get your ass moving, go, go, go!"
I jumped up without thinking about it and was peddling the stationary bike all twelve minutes. The sweat poured off of me as I walked on wobbly legs into the gym. Hans was there smiling at me. I went to the leg press machine, the squat machine, and the leg extension machine for the next forty five minutes with four sets apiece. Hans then explained why he wanted my legs worked so hard. He said, "You have really surprised me Red. I thought you would have given up by now but I wanted to see if your legs could withstand the pressure. The woman's leg area is the easiest to go first. It is upper body for men. I wanted to be able to press your legs hard to build your foundation. Once your legs get stronger then we can get you ready for the body shaping you needs to fit in those old clothes you told me about. Hell, they may even droop off of you when we're done in five weeks. Then you'll be ready to win the love back in four days or so."
I wasn't sure at the time, if Hans was insane or if he truly believed he could transform me into a sexy vixen in five weeks. Well, I lost a total of forty seven pounds with Hans as my personal trainer. I was a very healthy lean one hundred twenty one pounds and just as he had promised I was a complete knockout. My red hair was vibrant and once more long past my shoulders with a sexy fullness to it. I had returned from the dead to complete my mission. Oh don't get me wrong, it was the hardest five weeks of my life with medicine ball belly twists, pushups, sit-ups, weight training, elliptical machines, bicycle machines, and aerobics fitness classes. I dieted as well. It was the most I had ever done in my life for the mission.
Now I went home totally renewed with a sexual need and appetite to satisfy. Strangely enough, during all this time I hadn't seen or heard from my husband or Candy. Not until I decided to call him to allow him to come get the stuff he wanted. I was feeling gracious, happy, and highly sexy. I decided to wear a skimpy slinky floral little sundress with spaghetti straps and white thong underwear, no brassier to show off my new figure and firm rounded breasts.
