What Comes Around…Goes Around

Let’s finish ‘the whore’s” part in my story…

We left the courtroom in silence, the same way we had entered, the only sound was my heels on the floor. When we got to the car my husband grabbed my hand.

“Thank you,” he said squeezing it and smiled at me.

I smiled back and for the first time it hit me…the nightmare was over, no more lawyers, no more sorting through their emails, the healing and dealing I had put off for a month could start. And it was scary, without a common enemy to fight we had to face the shambles our marriage was in, and figure out what was best for our family. I kind of wanted to turn around and go back in court, to go a couple more rounds with ‘the whore’, the hard shit was just getting started.

Instead I took a deep breath and did what I was good at…I started sorting through his apartment, throwing stuff out, packing other things, but picturing most for sale. The locals came out in droves to buy his stuff. A lot came out of curiosity, and would question me when they showed up. “Moving?” They would ask after getting a good look me, I felt like a two-headed monkey at the zoo. A novelty in their small town, everyone knew of the affair, and restraining order, but now they were getting to see ‘ME’, Kelly the wife he had cheated on. I knew and I would make sure I answered each knock at the door, with my head held high and a smile on my face.

A few trusted friends knew the truth, my husband hated his job and was planning on leaving. I hated the thought of him working with ‘the whore’ and was ready for her to be behind us. ‘The whore’? She had moved on to plan B…restraining order didn’t work but with her job she didn’t have to prove anything. As a woman all she had to say was “I don’t feel safe” and they listened. My husband was offered a job in another town, he would be transferred and she would win. It made him mad and he finally told his boss of the times she had went through his office, his desk with out his permission, of leaving him unwanted presents, of harassing him. He was told “They would look into it.” But we both knew she would win because she was playing the victim again.

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it but women who play a victim? They piss me off…in today’s world I believe we should all be treated equally…you want the same rights as men, to be considered as equals? Then stop playing the damsel in distress when it suits you. Stop crying fake tears, pushing up your boobs, and batting your eyes…be a woman…a REAL ASS WOMAN and stinking ROAR!!! As I sat there fuming, pissed off and it hit me…I was the real victim, and a woman. I could level up the playing field.

You want to play? Let’s play ‘whore’ and we will see who wins when it’s a fair game.

Paybacks had been a long time coming…

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