Page 90 of Chosen Road

It didn’t matter, she’d already turned back to Gus.

“How have you been, Gus?”

I took her in, her high heeled boots covering her denim clad legs to her thigh, her short coat, belted at the waist, accentuating her tiny waist and the flare of her ass and hips. Long, blond curls spilled down her back. My chest hollowed out as the whip-sharp edges of those dreaded mental pictures lashed the exposed nerves of my brain.

“We’re not doing this,” he replied, his voice controlled and even.

“Doing what?”

I looked up to see her wide, blue eyes trained on his face, the yearning in them plain, her offer still valid. I remembered how Gus used to make love to me and wondered if he was the same way with her.

My chair pulled out and I startled.

Gus stood over me, a heavy frown on his face.

“Let’s go, beautiful. I’ve lost my appetite.”

Trapped between her on one side of the table, and him on the other, I mentally stood in the abyss that lay between Gus and me, an abyss she dared breach at our most vulnerable moment.

My temper boiled and I needed to escape before I said anything. I stood and Gus positioned himself between her and me as he guided me towards the door.

I heard the clip of her heels and felt Gus stiffen. Her hand was dropping from where she’d touched his back, and I turned on her.

My lips pulled back from my teeth as I stepped forward, “Back off,” I bit out. “You’ve done enough.”

The look on my face alone sent her stumbling back.

I caught the look of surprise on Gus’s face as I spun towards the door, his expression feeding the flames of humiliation that licked to life inside. I barreled through, nearly knocking over an older lady.

“Excuse me, so sorry,” I muttered quickly, my face burning with shame.

I wasn’t enough. Of course, I wasn’t. How could I even compare to her? I ran down the sidewalk, the soles of my practical shoes gripping the sidewalk.

I heard the click-clack of her heels in my mind. Saw her naked, her head thrown back, writhing beneath my husband. Tears rolled down my face. My husband. Saliva filled my throat, and I gagged, heaving once, my hand cupped over my mouth.

Gus caught up with me and reached for my elbow. I tore my arm away and carried on my way.

“What took you so long to catch up? Did you do the gentlemanly thing and make sure she was okay before remembering your fucking priorities?”

“What? No! I didn’t even look at her. I couldn’t get past the old lady,” he protested.

I hated my tears. I hated my pain. I hated that he was the inciter of both.

“Amber…”

I turned around, uncaring and unseeing of the world around me, and screamed in his face, my hands in fists at my sides. “Arghh!”

His face paled, and I opened my mouth to yell.

“Are you okay, lady?” An anxious voice asked, bringing me violently back to the present and my presence in the very public middle of the street. The sound of the cars, the bustle of people, the cold, stark light of the wintry sun painting the world grey, my surroundings slammed awareness into me.

Mortified, I turned to face a young man who nervously eyed my enormous husband.

I took a breath. “I’m okay. This is my husband. I’m safe, just angry.”

“Thank you for checking on her. You did the right thing,” Gus assured him, and he stepped back, then slowly left, looking back once over his shoulder.

I heaved in a deep breath as Gus stepped into my space. My body shook with barely suppressed grief, and I wrapped my arms around myself while my husband stood before me, his arms at his sides, helplessness written all over his face.

---