Curiosity Killed the Cath

I could tell from Dave's expression and the low trick of entrapping me, that there was zero chance of reconciliation. That, as much as anything else, was a shock to the system. It was every woman for herself now.

A trip back to the same lawyers as before earned me an admonishment that if I'd engaged him, this wouldn't have happened. He advised me that if we fought it, there was a small chance of overturning the trickery. So, belatedly, I engaged him.

In the end, he neither slowed the process down nor changed the outcome. All he did was ensure that we arrived at the end of the process with him slightly richer and me even more broke. His promises of getting me a slice of Dave's cash from the sale of the business turned out to be as good as mine to Dave on our wedding day. He said it was because the prenup was so simple and effective, but I suspect it was because he was a crap lawyer.

Talking of broke. One evening not long after my defeat in the courts, I'd consumed half a bottle of something when the doorbell rang. There stood a crying and ranting Peter, bleating something about his wife kicking him out and changing the locks. She'd received a visit from Dave it seemed, and Peter was blaming me. Typical. Like he'd had nothing to do with falling into an affair?

Here, at last, was a focus for my frustration. I sent him packing with a few choice words but that wasn't enough to satisfy my anger. I picked up the earthenware pot that lived by the front door. It was filled with artificial sunflowers. Such happy flowers, sunflowers. Nothing says have a happy, sunny day quite like a sunflower. I hurled it at Peter's head while yelling, "Have a great life, you lousy son-of-a-bitch."

He didn't take any evasive action and it struck him full on between his shoulder blades. He went down like a bag of potatoes. He's lucky I wasn't strong enough to get more lift in my toss or I might have taken off his head.

I closed the door on him thinking he got what he deserved. A little unfair you might think, I'd pursued him, remember? But he didn't have to succumb to my seduction and, besides, rational thinking obviously wasn't a strong point of mine. At least, not anymore. Mary witnessed the whole thing and initiated the call that led to Peter being taken away in an ambulance and me away in the back of a police car.

I guess Peter blamed me as much as I blamed him, he pressed full charges for assault.

Peter took to drinking and ended up being fired for it. I was initially fired but then re-instated by a boss who explained, through gritted teeth, that our priest had lectured him about forgiveness. The happy atmosphere at work was over for me, though. My female colleagues treated me like I would steal their husbands and clung to them like limpets at the only work social function I attended after that.

The women in the neighbourhood were the same.

So, here I am. A man came round one day and asked for the keys to my BMW, it was one of the chattels from the business, now sold. I told him to fuck off but he showed up an hour later with a cop. Great. My sister begged Dave and he allowed me an extra month to vacate the house. Which is where I sit now, looking around the empty, echoing rooms. Rooms that used to ring with the sound of children laughing, Dave pretending to be a monster while playing hide and seek, and bedsprings squeaking. All memories that I'd killed with my curiosity like a vampire slayer with a stake.

Dave had removed the furniture he wanted, which wasn't much, and my stuff was in storage until I decided which third of it would fit in my new, tiny apartment.

Neither of my children were answering my calls yet. I could only hope that would change one day. After they judged I'd suffered enough for hurting their father, I suppose. I thought that day was today but they can't have agreed with me. Truth be told, I was a little afraid to face them. How could the person who had instilled them with the values of loyalty, justice, honesty and integrity they were now demonstrating, look them in the eye?

With one last sob, I walked out of the echoing house, closing the door behind me. I looked down. There lay the newspaper. No one, it seemed, had cancelled the subscription. It was Saturday, the day that jobs were advertised. A move to somewhere my colleagues didn't look on me warily would be nice, so I sat on the front step -- no hurry, after all, to get to my lonely apartment -- and glanced through it on my way to the positions vacant pages.

Could life kick me in the teeth any more? Page six held an article about local businessman, David Brown selling his business for an undisclosed but speculated eight figure sum. The accompanying photograph showed him looking good at a recent local chamber of commerce function, smiling down at a beautiful companion. My tears made the print smudge. I cursed myself for succumbing to my curiosity, but for it, it would have been me in the photograph with Dave.

My old beater car started, eventually, and I drove slowly away through a mist of tears. The curtains twitched all the way to the end of the street.

The End

Now lighten the fuck up with some philosophy.

Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine.

Those who live by the sword get shot by those who don't.

The things that come to those who wait will be the things left by those who got there first.

Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day. Teach a man to fish and he will sit in a boat all day drinking beer.

The shin bone is a device for finding furniture in a dark room.

A fine is a tax for doing wrong. A tax is a fine for doing well.

When you go into court, you are putting yourself in the hands of 12 people who weren't smart enough to get out of jury duty.