Page 33 of The Other Woman

If I could speak, I would’ve given her a piece of my mind, but she took one look at the venom in my eyes and decided to visit me every day with her shit. If I ever get the use of my limbs back, that bitch is the first one I’m going after.

I ate the last of the chili and watched him take a swallow from one of the whisky bottles I had left. I tried to remember how long I was gone for and which bottle this could be. If he has been eating the food and drinking, he should be dead any day now.

The social worker was supposed to come by soon, hopefully she’d get here before anything happened, but it’s getting close. I can’t communicate with anything, but my eyes, and Doug has yet to look into them even once.

I screamed inside my head as he walked away and left the room. Tears streamed down my face, and I tried with everything in me to move, but nothing happened. I must’ve fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion because when I opened my eyes, it was dark outside.

When he said he had a date, I thought he was going out somewhere, but from the noises coming from the other room, it sounded more like he had brought one of those escorts to the house again. He’s been spending the money the state pays along with my disability on these women. This is what he had gone to bat to get things taken care of in a hurry to do.

I fell asleep again, and the next time I woke, it was light out. He came into the room fussing about having to take care of me, changed my shitty diaper and threw it on the bed next to me, wiped something between my thighs, and pulled a new adult diaper up my thighs.

I can still smell asshole, and I smell ripe. I hadn’t had a proper bath since coming home, and it shows. I don’t know how many days have passed. I can only tell the passing of time by the sunlight and moonlight coming through the window.

I think I knew his last day from the moment he stepped into the room. He didn’t look so good, and his eyes were wild. I wanted to move; I could feel myself moving, but it was all in my head. He looked over at the bed as if only just remembering that I was there.

“What the fuck you looking at bitch?” I watched as he dropped to the floor, dead. I looked at him for a minute, not quite believing it. This isn’t happening; this can’t be happening. My only hope now was the social worker.

I cried myself to sleep and awakened. I don’t know how many times. At some point, I heard the doorbell; it could’ve been the same day or the next. I did my best to cry out, but no sound came. I tried throwing myself off the bed, but I couldn’t move even an inch.

Day became night, and Doug started to stink. It was one of the hottest summers on record. I felt myself growing weaker and weaker as time went on. I watched the maggots eating him to pass the time. I could smell myself and knew I was next.

How long has it been? A week? Days? I had no strength left. I didn’t feel the maggots as they crawled onto me, but I knew they were there. I saw them crawling their way over the floor.

I kept my mouth closed, but they found their way into my nose; can’t breathe. My last thought was, I hope I didn’t see this bastard in hell.

EPILOGUE

JACOB

“What is it?

“I think they’re gone. There hasn’t been any movement over there in a couple of days. Should I go in and take a look?”

“No! Give it a week, and I’ll call in a welfare check.” I hung up the phone and sat back in the chair behind my desk at home.

Those two saved me a lot of trouble. I’ve been hedging my bets about what kind of stunt either one of them would pull in the future until I got the bright idea to put someone on each of them. Doug hardly ever left the house, though he had plenty of company coming and going.

But his side piece was a whole other story. She was pretty good at running around on her lunch hour but she had no idea that I had eyes and ears on her at all times. I knew exactly what she was up to when she researched and then ordered thallium on the black market.

If I was halfway decent, I would’ve warned my ex-friend, but I hate his guts for what he did to my wife, so fuck that guy. What I didn’t expect was for him to hit her so hard it would lift her off her feet and cause her to become paralyzed.

No one but their detail knows the truth about that, and they’re paid well enough to keep their mouths shut; besides, it has nothing to do with them. It’s not like I’m breaking the law after all. I knew about the thallium in the whisky and the food and all the other shit she’d been doing on those breaks.

The two of them were so self-absorbed they never suspected that they were being watched even in their home and for some reason, never thought to cover their tracks. Well, except for the Jezebel, who thought she was Mata Hari for one hour each day.

I had enough evidence that whichever one offed the other was going away for a very long time, and I was almost certain that that fuck would off her first after she became paralyzed and he had to take care of her. But now it looks like they’re both gone.

I pulled up the folder with my vacation spots on my computer. It’s time to take my wife and kids out of town for a month or so. The kids are too young to attend a funeral, and my wife isn’t mourning that fuck on my watch.

Once I found the perfect place for this time of year in my portfolio, I turned my attention to the family lawyer. Of course, I wasn’t going to call him yet, but once that bastard is six feet deep, there’s no reason not to adopt and change their names.

It's not like I plan to remove Doug’s family from the children’s lives, but my kids’ comfort comes first, and I still believe that there’d be hurt feelings once they realize that we don’t all have the same last name. If the adults around me can’t see that or can’t understand, that’s too damn bad.

I know Rachel will come around because having my name will offer them more protection than Doug’s name ever could, and I’ve been dropping hints in the right ears this whole time to make the transition easier. Had I intended on severing ties with their grandparents, that would be a different story, but I have no plans on doing that, so if they really care about the kids, it should be easy enough for them to understand.

Two days after that phone call me, my wife, our kids, and our support team were on our way out of the country. Rachel didn’t ask any questions because she was accustomed, by now, to my spur-of-the-moment trips and ideas.

I told the parents that our phones were going to be off during this time because it was about family time and they understood. Five days after we landed in Fiji, I called in the welfare check on Doug’s home. My people kept me posted on what was going on with the shit show that ensued.

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