It also didn’t help that he hired himself a female assistant. God, just thinking about it makes me cringe. So fucking cliché. You think it will never happen to you, that those stories happen to other people. They happen in books, they don’t actually happen to you, right? Oh, was I wrong.
Imagine my shock and actual horror when I decided to surprise James on his “business trip.” I was in for quite a few surprises. Actually, three.
One. I walked in quietly and found my husband pounding away at his fat ass assistant. I’m not even saying that because I’m bitter, it’s actually true. Where I have big knockers, she has a big. Fat. Ass.
Who knew I should have eaten more Big Macs to make him happy?
Anyhow, I was standing there shocked at first. Right. Then I realized I’d been standing there at least two minutes, and he was still going strong. Seems my minute man is only a minute when it comes to me.
The second surprise was that he was actually touching her clit! Dude, what the fuck! He’s always had trouble finding mine. In fact, it was so bad I almost went out to have my clit pierced to make sure he didn’t miss it. I made excuses for him at first, being as we were both virgins when we got together. Hell, at nineteen I remember getting a mirror out and going to town on myself to make sure it was really there. In case you’re wondering, it was. I can’t make this shit up. Once when he was going to town on me, it was as if he were a toddler licking away at the ice cream that was melting around the cone instead of focusing on the ice cream on top.
Third, is the dirty talk. “You like that, baby? You want it harder, baby?” Usually with me it was more grunting and of course the “I’m coming.” That was the last straw. I yelled, or at least I thought I yelled. It may have been more of an evil laugh or maybe I just went crazy. When he turned and saw me with my jacket almost falling off me and my bags dropped by my feet, he looked pained.
I think I cried. I really can’t remember. I do, however, remember him pulling his dick out of her vagina, with no fucking condom on. What a fucking asshole, what a fucking douche. I hope he is catching some kind of penis eating disease.
Rolling off her while she tried to cover her fat vagina—okay, maybe I’m still a little bitter—leaving her mosquito bite size tits in the air, he rushed to me. He tried to make me look at him.
I mean, yeah, we were in a dry spell. Well, obviously I was, but it happens, right? People get busy, schedules overlap, him traveling, the baby with night feedings, being exhausted, not making time for each other, the kids’ schedules. Just plain life.
Fuck, am I that stupid, am I that naïve? Why the hell didn’t I suspect it? Why didn’t I see it?
I heard him say things like “this isn’t what it looks like.” Umm, excuse me a second, but is your dick not still wet? Are you actually touching me with the fingers that were just on her vagina?
I don’t remember much, but I do remember rushing to the bathroom and throwing up.
I want to say that I got over it fast, but I’d be lying. He was supposed to be my forever. He was my forever until he fucked around, and I couldn’t forgive him. The night I caught him I hightailed it out of there like my ass was on fire. I also drowned my sorrows in a bottle of vodka, thanks to my best friend who was there to collect me when I stepped off the plane.
Now, two years later, douche is with douchette, and they are happily traveling, working, and banging together. The only rough side to this is that I have to face them every second week when they pick up Allison and a reluctant Matthew.
Matthew spent a whole year not talking to his father, his betrayal hitting him hard. He didn’t understand how you fall out of love with someone.
***
I shake my head to clear my memories and the fact I agreed to have someone come in at three a.m. to train. I must have been out of my mind, or drunk. I’m not sure, and I’m pleading the fifth. I splash warm water on my face and grab my go-to Lululemon yoga pants and tank top.
The rink is my home away from home. My playground. Started by my great-grandfather who loved skating and hockey. He decided if he had to go to work every day he might as well enjoy it, so he opened Moore’s Arena. It was passed on to my dad, who started skating before he walked. It was his dream to pass it down to his son. Except his son was born with a vagina and not a penis.
I know he loves me to death, but I always felt I didn’t quite add up.
When I went to see Dad after James cheated with the fat ass, I had to hold him back and threaten to mess with the Zamboni for him to not go and crush him. While I was raging on about the dickhead, I told him I needed something to take my mind off the son of a bitch. His answer was to give me the rink. It was the best thing that ever happened to me. From the moment he laced up my skates as a child and brought me out on the ice it was my second home. Every day early morning practices before school would come in handy. I was the unstoppable girl. I could out skate some of the best boys, and those that I didn’t, I just pushed myself harder.