NJM 27 2018 in MoMoMo

Write about the pain you’ve inflicted on another person.

One of moments that I’m not proud of was breaking my own rule: NEVER get involved with a married man.

At first, I didn’t know he was married. It was just a night out, we talked, and we clicked. We saw each other a few more times, and I did NOT pick up on anything. He had no ring…no indication of being married.

After date five, he took me home, walking me to the front door as he always did. He smiled a certain way at me, and I turned around and smiled back. I was at the top of the stairs to my porch and I was able to meet his eyes. I leaned forward to kiss him. He kissed me and fucking HELL it was enough to make me wrap my arms around his neck and tell him to come in.

He picked me up and brought me into the house.

I slammed the door and we started stripping down.

Even the memory is enough to get my heart racing.

Back to the story.

After a few hours, we were curled up, dozing off. His cell rang and I heard a loud woman on the other line. I felt my stomach freeze and drop. I looked at him and he hung his head.

ME: Who was that?

Him: My wife.

ME: WHAT?!

Him: Let me explain!

I jumped up, naked, grabbing my shorts and tank top. I opened my bedroom door and told him to get out. He told me that he was separated, he was living in an efficiency, waiting for his divorce to go through. I didn’t want to hear it. I told him to get out.

I showered until the hot water ran out. I felt so disgusted.

Fast-forward to the weekend. My doorbell rang and I opened the door. I saw a woman that was familiar. I blinked and squinted and tried to place her when she started screaming at me.

After she screamed at me, I knew I had seen her at the bar a few times for karaoke. She used to make out with random guys (no shame!) so at first, I was confused. Then she brought up the fact that I had slept with her husband it I just started laughing.

I didn’t feel bad AT ALL once I placed her.

I told her to get the fuck off my porch and she tried to get up in my face. I just threw a side kick and knocked her off my porch. She was screaming at me, crying, and I just rolled my eyes and walked back into my house.

My phone rang and it was him. I was laughing and I told him his wife had swung by. He said he was about to my place. I told him the door was open.

We sat on the couch and I told him how I knew her. He told me he figured as much when she staggered in their house at 0600 with hickies on her neck and shoulder. I guess that’s one of the reasons he separated.

ME: Well, if you’re separated, and she’s not happy with you, why would she come over and try to start shit with me?

Him: Because of my income. I never said anything because a lot of women are like my wife. They just see my credit card and car.

ME: What about your car?

Him: I know you don’t know what I drive. That is how I knew you were genuinely interested in me.

He tells me what he does and I feel sick to my stomach. No wonder she was fighting to keep him. He was making a lot of money. I didn’t know what to say. I told him that I didn’t want to be considered a prostitute since he was who he was. I felt like I was 22 all over again, frozen. Gone were the years of fun and experience I’d had. I felt shy, exposed…

…but, he made it clear that I was not that person to him.

And the sex was beyond fucking stellar.

We saw each other twice after that. He finalized his divorce and kicked his wife out of his house. I was weirded out by his offer to give me a room. The last time we were together, we had hours worth of uninhibited sex because we both knew it was going to be the last time. He told me that he needed to get his shit together because he knew asking me to move right in after she left was a bad thing. I agreed. I wasn’t ready to give up my freedom either.

There is all kinds of hurt in this time frame. Just depends on the point of view.