Page 17 of The Other Woman

We were sitting on the couch cuddling, so she couldn’t claim it was post-nut clarity or anything to do with sex. I found out she’s got a mouth on her that I’m not sure if she’d kept hidden because of him in the past or had just found, but I get a kick out of her shit. She tried sitting up, but I held her in place. “You can talk just fine from right there; where are you going?”

“Wedding? What wedding? You never asked me.” I gave her a look and went back to flipping through channels to find something that wasn’t going to put me to sleep to watch. “That should tell you something. Now answer my question.”

“Small on the beach, I guess.”

“Fine, you don’t have to do anything; just find a dress. I’m paying for that too, so get the one you like and not the one you think you can afford.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means the sky is the limit.”

“By the way, we have to discuss living arrangements. Do you want to stay in this house or should we move to mine? We can work out the pros and cons there, but my take is that the kids are young enough for it not to matter at this point, and they’re the only reasons you should want to hold onto anything from your past.”

That’s my roundabout way of telling her I’m about to kill every memory she has or made with that fucker except for my God-kids. I didn’t know I had it in me, but yeah, I’m the jealous type. She seems to have picked up on that, too, and uses it to her advantage, which always ends with her getting her ass beat red.

Nothing sends me into a tizzy faster than hearing his name on her lips, something she has now been forbidden to do unless it is about the kids. If she even twists her lips to say, ‘Doug used to, or Doug did…’ Her ass gets it, and her gash doesn’t fare any better.

I’m still waiting for her to mention birth control, which I know she doesn’t take, or condoms, which she’s never asked about, so I’m almost certain she’s down my baby-making program. I need at least four to double his shit and then a spare, which means she’s going to be pregnant for at least the next six or seven years if I give her a break in between.

I’m not discussing shit because this is the only thing I can live with, and since I’m pretty sure she’s fallen for me, she should want what’s best for me and my mental health. If anyone around me knew that I had lost my mind in this way, they’d be hell to pay, but yeah, I’m one of those assholes.

RACHEL

Ididn’t know he was crazy, but in the last two weeks I have seen a side to him that I never knew existed. He was always the cool-headed, calm friend that all the others used to seek out for advice; at least, that’s what I saw when we were just friends over the years. But he’s full-blown crazy. Watch this.

“I haven’t heard from Doug in a while. I wonder how he’s…” Before I could even finish the sentence, I saw his head do a Regan MacNeil and started running towards the bedroom, stifling my laughter all the way with him hot on my heels.

One red ass and a sore snatch later, we were sitting up in bed going over more of his plans. “The people will be here tomorrow for you to choose your dress.” I know some women would complain about his take-charge attitude, but after years of carrying a relationship on my shoulders without much help from my partner, this was a welcomed change.

It's not like he just snatches shit out of the air, he actually pays attention to my needs, and it’s rare that I have to ask for something. Just a hint is enough for him to get the ball rolling on whatever, and I love it.

“By the way, I’ve thought about it, and we should definitely move into your place.” Even though our neighborhoods are literally right around the corner from each other, there is a huge difference in the layout of our houses and properties.

His place has a bigger backyard, lawn, gardens, and two pools. One indoors and the other outside with an enclosure. He also has about three more bedrooms than we do here, and quite frankly, the rooms are bigger, the ceilings are higher, and most importantly, it will piss Doug off immensely.

I haven’t heard a peep out of him since that night at his house, which is rare, but I think his parents had put some fear in him, and the visit from the cops didn’t help. Susy has been telling anyone who would listen that Wendy is an abusive monster who shouldn’t be allowed near the kids, like she has her own personal vendetta going on.

I once asked her why she was going after her so hard in that respect, and she got so damn mad when she was explaining that if she were in my position, she’d kill them both before letting them near her kids. I had to take her to the rage room with me the next time I went.

I don’t think we realize how cheating and betrayal affect everyone around us. It’s kind of like a death, where even though you’re not the one who died and maybe weren’t even that close to the deceased, their death reminds you of your own mortality.

Anyone close to divorce and betrayal is bound to question their own relationships, and I think that’s what the teen is doing. Only Susy doesn’t bottle things up; she lets her feelings be known loud and clear.

Anyway, the very next day after this conversation, the doorbell rang, and Jacob got up to answer it while I was playing with the kids on the floor while he worked on the couch which seems to be his favorite place.

Enter the tiniest Asian woman I’ve ever seen, followed by an entourage of three. I didn’t know what was going on until I saw the designer clothing bags in their hands. Jacob took over with the kids while I was rushed into the master bedroom to try on wedding dresses.

I found the perfect ecru lace covered dress that was perfect for a beach wedding. It was heavier than it looked because it was covered in ecru-colored mother of pearl and what looked like crystals. “Are these Swarovski crystals?”

“Those are diamonds.”

“Di…” I almost tore that thing off immediately. This thing must’ve cost a mint. No one has ever bought me anything that expensive. “How much is this thing?” I asked in a hushed tone.

“Mr. Halston has forbidden us to discuss such things. As I can see, this is your favorite, and I should also warn you that he has instructed us to make sure you get the one you showed the most interest in, no matter if you balk.”

It sounds like he knew this was going to be my first choice. I tried to pretend an interest in a couple of others but she saw right through me and went about making alterations to my favorite dress.

I made a note of the designer and hid out in the bathroom to look up the cost and almost passed out. As it was, I fell into the wall and had to answer whether or not I was okay from the other side. He’s out of control. Who’s paying thirty grand for a dress I’d only wear once?

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