Chapter 3 Three Shit Hits the Fan

I smirked as the incoming nurse let out a chuckle.

Bob’s face turned red. He grumbled something under his breath, but I couldn’t make out what it was. He slunk towards the door, but just before leaving, he regained his composure and turned to face me.

“Make sure you come get your shit once they let you out of here, or I’ll leave it on the lawn,” he said with a finger in my direction.

Bob left before I could respond.

“That your husband?” the nurse asked.

“Ex. Soon to be.” I hadn’t expected the first time I said that to feel so freeing.

“Honey, I don’t know the whole situation, but from what I just saw, you are much better off without him.”

I grinned, but my heart still ached a little. “Thank you.”

“Don’t tell me you started the party without me?” a familiar musical voice called out from the door.

I had to laugh, even though it hurt my stomach.

“Never without you. You’re the life of the party!”

I turned to greet my beautiful best friend, Lily. The thin, robust Tik Tok travel influencer was dressed in modest yet flattering blue yoga pants with a matching tank top. Her long, lush blonde hair had been pulled back into a braid, and her smile lit up the room.

Lily ran over to me and wrapped her arms tightly around my shoulders.

“What happened? You had me so scared. Never do that to me again!”

I did my best to return the awkward embrace and let Lily ramble. Anything to put off telling her had transpired. What would I even say?

“Well, are you going to tell me or not?”

I sighed. “It’s a long story.”

“Like I’m going anywhere?”

“I…got stressed, and I guess my stomach got the best of me, causing me to faint.” Not a lie. Not the whole truth, but not a lie.

“What were you so stressed about?”

Now it was time for the hard stuff, most of the hard stuff. “Bob cheated on me. We’re getting divorced.”

“He what?” Anger rang in Lily’s voice.

The nurse gestured for us to lower our voices as she tended to the other patient.

“He impregnated Marsha of Marsha’s Majesties, that flower shop near our house.”

“Seriously, a florist? Don’t tell me he’d bring you flowers afterward?”

I buried my face in my hands.

Lily glanced at the carnations. “I’m so sorry, if I had known—”

“Please, don’t apologize. I love the flowers. It’s not your fault.”

“Well, what else did that scumbag do?”

I hesitated. “He accused me of cheating, just because Peter saw me talking with some guy in the garden during our dinner party.”

Lily let out a sound somewhere between a huff and a laugh. “So, you cheated because you talked with some man at a party? And what exactly would he call getting a woman who’s not your wife pregnant?”

I shrugged.

“I swear, the next time I see Bob, I’ll clock him,” Lily said, imitating a punch. She placed a hand on my shoulder. “You know that I’m always here for you, right?”

I put my hand over Lily’s. My heart warmed. I told myself I was not going to cry, not again, not even in joy.

“Thank you, Lily. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

I knew that I could always count on Lily. It had been that way since school, when we met through our mutual love of hockey. Both on the rink and off, we always had each other’s backs.

It didn’t matter that Lily was the little rich girl or that her uncle was the school’s hockey coach. Okay, maybe the latter did matter—but only because he was Barnett.

Barnett.

My mind drifted to the man in the garden, how he had smelled like Barnett. No one else needed to know that.

I was released from the hospital a week later, following observations, tests, and appointments with the oncologist. Unfortunately, the oncologist hadn’t been as optimistic as the gastroenterologist.

Terminal.

The word rang through my head as my Uber drove up to my—now former—house. If we had caught it sooner, if I hadn’t ignored my stomach pains, if I hadn’t worked myself ragged for a family that didn’t care if I lived or died…now, my treatment options were limited—or nonexistent.

I stayed in the car long after the driver had parked, gripping the door handle tight. Marsha was in there, I just knew it. Still, I couldn’t avoid my demons forever.

When I finally got up the courage to enter the house, I saw exactly what I didn’t want to see: Marsha spreading out her bags everywhere that I had to collect my own. And this was not the Marsha I was used to seeing.

Gone was the kind, modest Marsha that I always saw running the flower shop. Before me stood a woman barely contained in form-fitting skinny jeans and a halter top tight enough to show off her chest. A smirk spread across Marsha’s face as she silently watched me gather my belongings.

I tried to ignore her, to ignore everybody, as I packed my suitcase, bathroom bag, and a duffel bag. Hopefully, I could trust them to not touch anything I couldn’t fit in these until our lawyers could handle the settlement. I would pack my most important items, just in case.

I bent over to pick up a bra I dropped when I felt a man’s hand squeeze my large, sexy ass. I gasped. When I spun around, Peter’s hand was retreating.

Heat flushed my cheeks. This was not the first time that he had tried to touch my ass—but it would be the last.

I pulled back and slapped Peter hard across his laughing face.

“Ow! What the hell was that for?” he cried out, holding his cheek.

Bob and his parents rushed into the room.

“What happened?” Bob asked.

“Your bitch of an ex slapped me!” Peter exclaimed.

“He touched my ass!” I zipped up my suitcase and set it next to the other bags. “I’m sick and tired of it.”

“So you slap him?”

“Yes, I defended myself. I can’t expect anyone else around here to do it for me.”

I looked at each of them in turn, seeing no sympathetic faces.

“Forget it.” I turned to Bob. “My lawyer will be in touch to negotiate the divide of our property.”

I watched the color drain from his face. For a moment, I got pleasure out of the fear that the idea drew from him. Then I remembered my state, how meaningless this all was in comparison, and realized how tasteless the revenge felt.

“Don’t worry, we’ll each get exactly what belongs to us. Nothing less.”

The others seemed stunned. I knew what they were thinking, that they were expecting me to be vindictive and go after every penny that Bob was worth, but I just didn’t have it in me. Not now.

Peter was the first to recover.

He sauntered up to me and wrapped an arm around me waist. “You know, I could help you get more than just what belongs to you…”

I shoved his hand off my hip and reached for my bags.

“No, thank you.”

Peter grabbed my arm.

“Come on, there must be something that you want.”

I tried to shake his hand off.

“I said no, thank you.”

Peter’s hand wouldn’t budge.

“A little something? I know there’s something that I want. Of course, it’s not little.”

Peter’s eyes roved up and down my body. He licked his lips slowly, obscenely. I wanted to puke just watching him.

“I said NO.”

I ripped my arm away, elbowing Peter in the jaw in the process.

Peter screamed and rubbed his jaw. After working out the soreness, he glared at me and clenched his fist.

“You fucking bitch.”

He raised his fist and aimed for my face. My pleading eyes searched Bob, his family, and Marsha, but no one moved to help me.