A New Leaf

This is my second "Kiersten" story. There will be more, until her story is told. This is an older Kiersten: think late 30s, and it was originally written as a story for the "Imma Bad Bitch" group of stories by women writers. That isn't going to happen. Some may post stories, individually. My apologies for building anticipation.

I am grateful to my team. Harddaysknight is my mentor and gives me critical review. Sbrooks103x also gives me a pre-post read. My editors are Girlinthemoon, Hale1 and GeorgeAnderson. I thank you all, Randi.

Pain is never something that I enjoyed. I'm pretty tough, as bearing two children should make obvious, and physical pain I could handle, if not enjoy, but I always tried to avoid emotional pain. No one is successful at that, of course, but you do what you can. I was bringing some pain of my own.

I had another email from Ryan. I never responded to any of them. I ignored all attempts at communication. He had 12 years to communicate with me. He chose not to do so on the most important things about which we should have. It was a bad decision.

Now he was begging again. "Please, Kiersten, I'm sorry. How many times do you want me to say it? How long are you going to punish me?"

Our marriage ended with a look. It was a certain sort of look: the way a predator looks at their prey. It held speculation, a hint of contempt, some superiority and danger for me. For the first time, I felt my husband's eyes on me and he was looking at me as an object to be used, not as his partner, friend and lover. That was the beginning of the end.

It had only been four years. He was paying me in installments for the 12 years I had wasted on him. He was paying for the pain of our children, for the emotional wreck he'd made of me, for the best friend since the second grade he'd cost me.

Oh, I'd moved on; I was more successful, personally and professionally, than I'd ever been, but Ryan wasn't.

Neither was Jolene. They were pretty much struggling. I did what I could to make them struggle. My divorce had not been friendly, and neither had Jolene's. Her husband seemed to be pretty unhappy with her, and they didn't make it. I only had three pictures, but it was enough. Catching your best friend smashing with your husband in your bed is hard on the old self-esteem.

I never understood. Jolene wasn't in my class, in looks, brains or charisma. I had loved her because she was Jolene. She had moved to my school in the second grade, and we had been best friends up until the day I discovered she was banging my husband. She was reasonably attractive, but from the short time I watched them, she was a lazy fuck. Any pussy in a storm, I guess. It still made me take a close look at myself.

Was I unattractive, physically, or emotionally? It seemed to me that I still had the same body I had when I graduated from high school. It was better, in fact. My tits had grown, my hips swelled a bit, and I had worked my little ass off after the kids were born to get back to that 24-inch waist. I was all muscle and silk, and men stared at me, so I knew it wasn't that.

I loved to fuck. Ryan certainly wasn't being short-changed in the sexual department. There was little in the way of sexual activity that I didn't thoroughly enjoy. I loved giving head, and I sucked his dick regularly, just because I liked doing it. I heard men talk, and I listened to my women friends. I was under the impression that few men had their wives ask to suck their dick on a regular basis. I certainly wasn't into anal, or other unsanitary and painful things, but I was certainly horny and ready to drop my panties any time Ryan was in the mood.

Maybe I was a bitch. I thought about that. My friends all seemed to like me. I certainly COULD be a bitch, if the occasion called for it, but I didn't know anyone who seemed to think I was. I asked John, at work, if he thought I was a bitch. He looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"No, um... you can be a little... intimidating, Kiersten, but it's because you're so hot and you don't put up with any BS. Why are you asking me this?"

"I'm conducting a survey," I told him. "I think I may need to improve my resting bitch face."

He laughed. "I'd say you've got that one down. You're not a bitch, Kiersten. Everyone who knows you loves you; they just know not to give you shit."

That was comforting. John was a straight-shooter. He would give me the honest dope to an honest question. He was only a little afraid of me, and we were as in love as any strictly platonic friends could be. He'd seen me in action a couple of times. He knew I came from NCS before I became a contractor, so he was wary, but we were pals.

I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror after I left his office. I was looking good! I took a selfie and snapped my friend, Regan. I'd had a steam treatment, a facial, my nails done and I was on fleek.

I went back to the office I'd been assigned while I was there and looked at my email again. This email was because Ryan had lost another job. I kept an eye on him. I was kind of a big deal in our region. Everyone in our field knew who I was and depended, in one way or another, on services I provided. Those who didn't found out rapidly. Ryan had been hired 11 times in that four years. He even took a job two states away. It didn't help. His past came back to bite him. I didn't mind him working, just not in his field or for the kind of money he wanted.

Jolene was a schoolteacher, and she had lost her tenured position, two other positions and was not finding life a bed of roses, either. Yeah, it was petty, but I wasn't going to get violent with them. A girl has to retain her sense of self-respect. They were really in no physical danger from me, though they didn't know that. They took great pains never to be in my presence.

The pain they'd inflicted was emotional. That was what they were reaping. I'd heard of people going wack and murdering their spouse and the lover. As tempting as that sounded two hours after I caught them, I was in shock and could barely summon the presence of mind to take those three pictures. Then I was in pain and just wanted to get away from the site of the pain. I was angry later, but by then, I'd become human. Animals lash out; humans have higher brain functions and can plan. I had a big brain and I used it.

Besides, I pretty much stopped caring once I got through the initial stages of grief and anger. I was pissed off beyond belief, but more because I'd wasted my time loving pathetic people. Loving people who don't love you is also pathetic. Kiersten Bayer wasn't pathetic.

Ryan lost his job, right away. Putting yourself at risk of blackmail or extortion by having affairs with your wife's best friend doesn't play well when it comes to having the clearances he needed to work in SIGINT. Since he didn't have an income, a home (that became mine as per the prenuptial agreement), or transportation other than public, I was awarded full custody of the kids.

The raggedy-ass lawyer he was able to retain didn't put up much of a fight. Since mine worked for my Aunt's firm and no one wanted to fuck with her or the kind of influence she could bring to bear, Ryan basically got nothing.

Teachers seem to have morals clauses in their contracts that void even tenure. Having pictures of you banging a married man who is not your husband floating around in cyberspace seems to trigger those clauses. I'd heard that the students at her school made them go viral on cell phones.

It had become something of a little hobby for me. If I was bored, it became "fuck with Ryan and Jolene" time. They knew it was me, of course. They'd occasionally try to fight back, but I was no dummy. Anyone with my tech savvy knows how to do things on the net low-key without leaving a trace. I got good at doxing people. Not ordinary people, just Ryan and Jolene.

Ryan had just lost his new job as a systems consultant in networking at his latest company. He couldn't keep the network running, even with the help of a pretty good IT department. These hackers...

"How long are you going to punish me?" Well, I was planning for 12 years. I didn't spend a lot of time at it. I had two little angels who took up most of my time, apart from business. Deirdre and Fiona had just turned 10, and they were precocious as fuck. Yes, I know you're supposed to name twins ridiculous rhyming names. Fuck that shit, I liked the ones I chose. They were about as different as two girls with the same parents could be, in any case. Deirdre was an athlete, an extremely physical child who seemed perpetually dirty from the day she was born. Fiona was just as athletic, but she was totally female: a little sorceress. She worked her wiles and few were immune, including her much rougher sister.

They were a team, and though they sometimes fought like hornets, they were fierce as hell when it came to anyone else who interfered with them. They shared the same intense green eyes, but Deidre had hair as black as a raven's wing, and Fiona was a redhead. They were going to break hearts in a few years, and I dreaded the drama.

I deleted the email and took the rest of the day off. I was feeling good. It was summertime, and when I got home the girls told me they were going riding. "Wow, Fiona, won't you get, like, dirt on you?" I asked.

She gave me an eye-roll. "Whatever. Mom, is it okay if we spend the night at Lindsey's?"

"It's okay with me," I said. "Does Lindsey's mom know about this invasion?"

"No, Mom, we were planning to surprise her," Deirdre said.

"Ah, well, I'm sure she likes surprises," I assured them.

That got me twin eye-rolls. "What are you going to do?" Deirdre asked.

"I dunno. Prolly just chill, drink some wine and read," I said.

"This would be a great time for you to go on a date," Fiona informed me.

I made a production of going to the door and looking outside. "My date hasn't arrived," I told them.

"Unless it's a burglar and breaks into our house, he never will arrive," Deirdre said. "God, Mom, if you ever did anything besides hang with us and work, maybe you could actually meet someone. You know, like a man?"

"They'd leave the toilet seat up in your bathroom," I said. "We don't need no stinking men."

That cracked their stern demeanor. They were constantly on a crusade to get me a date. Every single man they met was carefully scrutinized as "date" material for their dear old mom. They'd set me up three times before I wised up to their shenanigans. It was embarrassing as hell, too.

"I saw the new dress you got," Fiona told me.

"And how did you see that?" I asked.

"I needed a t-shirt to sleep in so I was borrowing one of yours," she explained.

"Girl, sleep in your own damn clothes," I said. "No wonder I never have anything clean to wear with you two stealing my stuff all the time. And I want my hoodies back!"

Deirdre laughed. "Just wait until we're big enough to really wear your stuff."

Not to be deterred, Fiona plunged ahead. "I love the dress, Mom. It just screams "Take me out!" I know; why don't you call Regan and go to a club or something with her? Maybe you'll meet a hot guy."

I managed to extract myself from that situation and packed them off to Lindsey's. When I got home, I just wanted to drink wine and lie around the house with my tiddies out. I showered and put on panties. I was thinking about socks to keep my feet snuggly and I noticed my new dress. It was black and it had bunched up around my hips a little, so I'd had it altered. It still had the tag on it. I held it up to me. It felt good against my skin, so I pulled it over my head.

I looked in the mirror. It was fire! It was short, and showed a ton of leg. I had good legs. I thought they were too muscular, but everyone else told me how great they were. I slipped into some red heels and got my red bag. I looked in the mirror again. I felt confident as fuck. "Imma definitely have to go on a date!" I said to the mirror. "Somebody needs to take me out, for sure!"

I looked at my phone. What the hell, I called Regan. She was down. Regan partied constantly. She wasn't a slut, but she enjoyed a night on the town. She agreed to meet me at Angelo's, and we ate and chattered, catching up on the latest. We walked down two blocks to a club we'd been to before, and it was hopping. We made a nice pair. Regan was looking spectacular, but then she usually did. She was a goddess, about my height, at five-ten, a hard-body from being a workout warrior, and a face that was so beautiful you wanted to touch her, just to see if she was real. She was some exotic ethnic mix, definitely some Asian heritage because she had all that long dark perfect hair, and she was just slightly brown, with those amazing tilted-up eyes. We turned heads when we walked in. There were any number of single guys there who swooped in as soon as we were seated. We danced with the ones who looked promising and told the losers we were lesbians.

I got back to our table from a dance just as she was returning. We were both lit, but just comfortably so, with our excitement high and our inhibitions low. The band started a slow number and she grabbed my arm. "Let's dance, Kiersten."

I let her lead me out and she pulled me in close. Stray wisps of her hair tickled my cheek and she pulled me in close as we swayed together. Her leg was between mine, and mine was between hers. The way she was moving was making me feel the heat and I murmured in her ear, "Um... Regan, we're not really lesbians, remember?"

She pulled back enough to look at my face and burst out laughing. "Speak for yourself, doll-face. I would fuck you in a heartbeat."

That kind of took my breath. She was serious! "Really?" I asked. "I didn't know you rolled like that."

"Oh, yeah," she said. "I've been hitting on you for three years, but you never notice."

"You're a lesbian?" That did shock me. "So what is Jason, your beard?"

She laughed again. "No, he's my boyfriend. I'm bi, Kiersten. I'll dump him tomorrow if you'll be my girlfriend. He's more of a human dildo than a boyfriend, anyway."

"Let's go sit down," I said.

We went back to our table and I took a gulp of my drink. "You're not serious, right?" I asked.

"I would be deadly serious if I thought I had a chance with you," she said.

My brain was reeling. "I don't think I'm ready for this," I told her. "I... the girls... no, this is nuts, Regan. I have the girls to think about."

"Well... I don't know how to tell you this, but they kinda set you up here," she said.

My jaw dropped. "You mean... damn, they got me again! What did you tell them, Regan?"

"Don't be blaming me," she said. "They told me they knew I was hot for you, and they were going to try to get you out with me. It was totally their idea. Of course, I was all ears, but those two are like an avalanche."

I just sat there stunned. I'd never even thought about Regan like that. I mean, she was hot as fuck, but I hadn't been with another woman since before, well, before Ryan and I started dating, and I was totally unprepared to have Regan hitting on me like that.

"Well, that's a hell of a thing," I told her. "I love you, Regan, but I'm not about to just jump in bed with you."

She took my face between long cool fingers. "I know that. It's one of the things about you I find most attractive. You're careful with everything you do, Kiersten. Well, except marrying that asshole, Ryan."

I had to laugh. "Yeah, well, I thought I was careful there. I've shown I'm a terrible judge of character. That's prolly why I hang out with you."

She laughed and kissed me, just a quick pressure on my lips. "No, babes, you're not. You're smart and gentle and the kindest person I know. You just made a mistake."

We sat back and looked at each other. I felt awkward as fuck. She started giggling and that set me off. We laughed until we were crying and we weren't awkward anymore.

"You are an evil woman, Regan," I said.

"Yeah, I know. I've always let you talk me into doing a bunch of ratchet shit." She looked at me, challenging me to deny it.

"Well, what you and the terror twins got up to was some ratchet shit," I said. "I didn't have any part in thinking that up. This has been... interesting, Regan. It was fun and naughty, but I need some space. I'm going home."

"You a little bitch, running off home." She smiled, taking the sting out of the words.

"Yeah, I am. Regan, remember when we used to sneak away from home and go to wild parties?" I asked. "Now I sneak away from parties to go home. What happened to us?"

"We grew up," she sighed. "All our shit is at home. 'Go big or go home.' People underestimate how willing we are to go home. We don't need to be challenged. I'll leave home for you, though, BB. Kiersten, will you go on a date with me?"

I blushed. "Yes, Regan, I will. Give me a minute to get used to the idea, okay? Christ, you've been my friend for years. We're friend-zoned as hell. I need to get used to this."

"I know." Her eyes were soft and full of a glow that made them look amber. "They hurt you bad, Kiersten. It's time to start taking risks with your heart again. Let that shit go, baby girl. Move the hell on. You need to make space in your heart for someone who has the capacity to love you just as much as you love them. If not with me, with someone."

I sighed. "I get the message. We still on for tennis tomorrow?"

"Yeah, and imma beat that skinny ass, this time," she warned.

She might get it done. We were about 50/50. I was more powerful than she was, but she had better strokes.

I went home with my brain spinning. It was a good thing for the twin menaces that they were spending the night with Lindsey. We were going to have a serious talk when they got home.

The Uber dropped me at home, and I got ready for bed. My phone buzzed and I noticed I had three texts. Two were from the girls and one was from Ryan. I read the read the girls' first. They were just "Night, Mom, love you." I sent them love and I looked at the one from Ryan.

"Kiersten, you have to end this. I fucked up, okay? What do you want? Would you be willing to meet with me and talk about this? What do I need to do?"

That was a good question. Hmm, I wondered if he could give me back 12 years of my life? Somehow, I doubted that. It might be fun to fuck with him, though. I thought about it. I hadn't communicated with him since the divorce was final, and only through the attorneys since the day I caught him banging that hoe, Jolene, in my bed. I decided to do it.

I texted him. He would probably have a heart attack. "Okay, we'll meet Wednesday at 2PM at the memorial in the park. You can tell me how you're going to fix your fuck-up."

"I'll be there," he said.

I thought about standing him up, just leaving him waiting. It was a hook-up place for the local gay community. Ryan was a complete homophobe, and it would be funny as hell to leave him there to get hit on while he was waiting.

*****

When I got to the memorial, Ryan was sitting there on a bench and there was a guy talking to him. I burst out laughing and he looked up and saw me. His face flamed and he got up, leaving his admirer behind. The last time I had seen him was just a view of his ass, but he hadn't aged well. He was going soft and looked older than I knew he was.

"New lover?" I asked. "I didn't know you were bi, Ryan. I guess there was a lot about you I didn't know." I burst out laughing again.

"Very funny, Kiersten. That's why you picked this place, isn't it? You just have to keep torturing me."

"Well, we all have our hobbies," I said. "Yours just happens to be banging your partner's friends. Mine is seeing to it that you reap the whirlwind."

I could tell he didn't get the metaphor. "That's what I want to talk to you about," he said. "Kiersten, I was scum, okay? I know that. You hate me, the girls hate me and won't even speak to me; hell, everyone hates me. I hate myself. I fucked up my life, and you make sure I remember that, every damn day. When is it enough?"