Shattered Promises

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I’ve been fucking your husband. Thought you should know. Cami.

Cami. The name of a pretty girl with no stretch marks or perimenopause symptoms. I stared at the text message glaring back at me from my phone, and I read it for the millionth time, wondering if I’d notice more than just her name this time.

I’ve been—

I sucked in a sharp breath and felt the sting of tears burn against my closed eyelids. Then I slowly opened them, praying this was some kind of prank, that the text message would disappear and that this didn’t really happen.

—fucking your husband.

A hiccup surprised me, half caught between a sob and an inhale.

My husband, Victor. Even his name brought warmth to my heart, images of his chocolate brown eyes and soft, dark curls grazing his forehead as he grinned at me.

My phone bursted with sound, and I almost dropped it. I wish I had, then I wouldn’t have to see what she sent next.

Cami.

It was Victor, shirtless and laid on pink satin sheets. He gazed up at the camera, looking more playful than I’d seen him in years. A tanned hand laid on his chest, with bright pink nails filed into dagger-like tips. Tanned thighs sat either side of Victor, and she saw his tattooed hands gripping them, denting the perfect skin.

Then came the video.

I’ve never felt pain like it. Ever.

I watched in high definition as my husband railed a petite brunette from behind, her pathetic noises making my stomach churn. But it was his noises that broke me.

His words.

“Fucking take it. Take it all.”

“You like that? I’m gonna cum so deep in you you’ll choke on it.”

“God, you’re so fucking tight.”

“Look at how good your pussy takes me.”

My Victor. My husband. He’d said those exact words to me so many times, and hearing them, so familiar but spoken to some other woman, was enough to make bile rise up my throat and empty onto the solid wood floor beneath my feet.

I hadn’t even eaten today. I didn’t have time, and I’d just grabbed my phone for five minutes…

I’m on my hands and knees, wretching, when I hear the front door open. There’s a sound of keys being tossed onto the counter by the door, probably beside my own set, then I hear my husband muttering to himself.

“Fucking assholes can’t even park right.”

Ah, yes. The neighbours who my husband detested. The Moran’s. They parked over our driveway just enough that we could make it onto the drive, but far enough that my husband’s Ford Ranger barely made it.

“Baby?” Victor called out, kicking his boots off. “Where you at?”

Hell, I thought. I’m in hell.

And you can’t save me.

“Lila?” He was worried. I normally greeted him at the door with kisses and tales of my day. But I can’t get off the floor.

He jogged up the carpeted stairs, and then I saw his feet, in the purple socks I bought him for Christmas. His jeans fell into my eyeline next, but he moved so quickly to crouch in front of me that the only thing I could see are those brown fucking eyes.

Cheating chocolate brown eyes.

“Lila? Fuck, are you sick?” He stares at me, then down at the puddle of bile between us. “Baby! Let me get you cleaned up.”

He moved towards me and I froze, snapping my head to stare at him like a cornered, wild animal. He blinked, then his eyebrows knitted together with confusion.

“Lila, what’s going on, baby?” His eyes searched mine, and I laughed, wiping the spittle on the back of my hand.

“Who’s Cami, Vic?” I rasped, my entire body trembling as I watched his reaction. The colour drained from his olive skin, leaving behind a pale version that made him look somewhat grey.

Even at forty five, he was stunning. Flecks of grey hid in his dark curls, his skin still supple and smooth. No wrinkles in sight. He was covered in tattoos and due to working in construction daily, he had a great body.

No wonder Cami wanted him.

“What—”

I didn’t have the energy for any bullshit, so I threw my phone at him.

Literally. It bounced off his knuckle, the one with the ‘I’ tattooed for my name. I flinched, about to apologise, but then curled my lip into a snarl.

“See for yourself.”

Victor stared at me, then down at my phone, his tongue wetting his lips.

Does he have any idea what I know?

His thumb swiped the screen.

Then his entire body deflated, his shoulders slumping beneath the white t-shirt I’d pressed for him only yesterday. He exhaled heavily, closing his eyes as I heard the video playing.

“Fuck.”

Well, at least that was better than denial. Denial I couldn’t take right now.

I couldn’t trust myself to speak, so I just sat there, with bile dripping from my hand, staring at my husband, the man I’d loved for over twenty years.

“Baby, I’m so—”

“Sorry?” I whispered, the word scraping through my raw throat and past my dry lips. “That’s okay, honey, you must’ve fell into her tight pussy that takes your dick so well.”

Victor bows his head. So he fucking should.

“I want you to leave.” I was surprised to hear the words leave my mouth so calmly. I didn’t plan to say them, and I certainly didn’t think they’d come out like that. I wanted to claw his fucking eyes out. “Maybe go back to Cami.” I spit her name out, and for that I was proud.

Victor snapped his head up, his eyes searching mine.

“You don’t mean that, baby. I mean…” He held his hands up, like admitting defeat. “I majorly fucked up. I’m so fucking sorry.” Tears slid down his cheeks, and for a second, I almost reached for him. Because that’s instinct—it what I always did,

“No, Vic,” I whispered. “This isn’t a mistake. You knew what you were doing. Now get out.”

His throat bobbed. “Please—”

“If you don’t,” I rasped, barely holding it together. “I’ll leave.”

Victor swallowed, tears running down his cheeks. He looked like he was going to try and say something, but one look from me and he nodded, rising to his feet slowly. He towered over me, hovering like I was going to change my mind.

“I love you so fucking much,” Victor choked out, but I scoffed.

“It doesn’t matter when she takes you so well, does it?”

I rose to my feet and walked into the bathroom on shaky legs, refusing to look back at him.

“Lila, baby—”

“Get the fuck out, Victor. I never want to see you again.”