"But isn't all of that in the past?"
"Why do you insist on tormenting me like this?"
I pressed a hand to my chest. My face was flushed a deep, burning red, and yet I found myself looking at Brian Delgado with something close to amusement.
I was tormenting him?
He was the one who'd put me through hell for six straight years.
The moment I found out about Brian's first affair, I asked for a divorce.
He panicked completely.
He dropped to his knees and swore to me that he would cut Joan Henson out of his life for good.
He scrubbed his social media clean. Every last trace of the other woman, gone.
He even changed his profile banner to our wedding photo.
With tears in his eyes, he gathered up every cheap little trinket Joan had ever given him, shoved them all into a box, and threw it away.
But our finances were tangled too deep.
Even if I divorced him, I'd walk away with nothing.
And why should I be the one who left empty-handed?
So after all the back and forth, we got back together.
On the surface, we looked like the same couple we'd always been.
But only the two of us knew the truth. Once a crack exists, it can never be repaired.
The marriage had been hollow for a long time.
I thought we could at least keep up appearances a while longer.
Then last month happened.
He and Joan, drunk again, rekindled everything in a hotel room.
"Eleanor, take a good look. What exactly do you think you have that can compete with me?"
Three in the morning.
Joan had video-called me specifically to gloat.
"Your husband swore up and down he was coming back to his family. Said you were the only one in his heart. And so what?"
"All I had to do was crook my finger, and he came running right back to my bed."
When I found out he'd cheated again, I didn't cry or scream the way I used to. There was no hysteria.
I simply picked up the phone, calm as anything.
"Hi. I heard you can arrange a selection of men. Is that right?"
The very next day, a "male best friend" appeared in our home.
Brian would make up excuses about working late and sneak off to see Joan.
The second he walked out the door, I'd call Mervyn to come over for a candlelit dinner.
Brian spent five thousand dollars buying Joan clothes and handbags.
I turned around and swiped his card for a luxury watch worth ten times that, a gift for Mervyn.
One night I found lipstick on Brian's collar.
The next morning, I personally knotted Mervyn's tie in front of him, all smiles and affection.
Brian's eyes went red with fury, and something inside me finally unclenched.
That evening, Brian didn't leave after all.
He couldn't stomach the thought of me, drugged with an aphrodisiac, alone in a room with a strange man.
So he decided to play the antidote himself.
He loosened his tie, undid a few buttons on his shirt, and backed me into the corner.
"Eleanor, seeing you suffer like this... as your husband, I just can't bear it."
"Isn't this all because you're jealous?"
"Tonight, I'll keep you company..."
But before he could get any closer, I raked my nails across his face.
"Don't touch me. You disgust me."
Brian clutched his cheek. He touched it once, then stared at the blood on his fingers in disbelief.
"You're vicious, Eleanor. You really are."
I shoved him away hard and staggered toward the bedroom. The drug was coursing through me now, turning my limbs to cotton, draining every ounce of strength.
"Mervyn. Come help me."
He stepped out obediently and draped my arm over his shoulder.
Brian's gaze locked onto him, eyes bloodshot, and he hurled a glass that shattered at Mervyn's feet.
"Get the hell out."
"This is my home. Mine and my wife's. What the hell are you?"
"Keep meddling in our marriage, and don't blame me when I call the cops and have you arrested for trespassing."
