20 Questions

Chapter 91

I roll down my window and turn up my music on the drive home. I need something to distract me from the cacophony of bullshit I heard today. Hunter is one of the smartest men I know, but today, he acted anything but. How could he possibly think that going over to that whore's house was going to be a good idea? I can appreciate how he was trying to put her in her place, but he went about it all wrong. She is too immature to reconcile something productively. I know she put her hands on him, I just know it. It must have been pretty bad for him to come up to my office to tell me right away. My chest burns thinking about her disgusting hands on him. I am furious at her, but I can't determine if I am mad at him or not. My head is too cloudy and I'm too irrational to think clearly. I know his intentions were good, but this is not how I would have liked for him to handle the situation.

I pull into the driveway and look over to see Liz standing in her yard. We lock eyes. I look homicidal and she looks terrified. She runs into the house and slams the door before I have a chance to get out of car. I'll deal with her later when I've managed to calm myself down.

Orange is not my color.

I put my stuff on the counter and grab the open bottle of wine out of the fridge. I need something to help me relax because I'm still contemplating going next door and shoving her face through a meat processor. It takes a special kind of whore to come onto and put their hands on an engaged man...whose fiancée lives right next door with him at that. She is either really stupid or really desperate. My money is on both. Hunter wouldn't have given in to her advances, I know that. He loves me and I trust him. He knows what he has here at home. He may act like an idiot sometimes, but he is loyal to a fault.

I plop down on the couch, grab the remote and flip through the channels. An episode of Snapped is just coming on and it couldn't have come at a better time. I'm already starting to feel the effects of the wine when I hear the garage door open. I don't turn around when I hear him lay the grocery bags on the counter. He walks into the living room, his body tensing at my choice of TV shows.

"Snapped, huh? This isn't going to bode well for me. Maybe I should go back to the store."

I am laughing on the inside, but he won't see my amusement. I keep my eyes straight ahead on the TV. I can feel his stare on me, but I do everything in my power to keep my gaze fixed. He needs to think that I am still seething. I am, but my rage isn't necessarily directed at him.

"I am one episode of Snapped away from becoming an educated serial killer."

"I hate this show," he says, swallowing a large gulp.

"Not me. I've gained enough intel to get my PhD in domestic homicide. Don't worry though, I'm not limiting my vindictive tendencies to only the occupants of this residence. I've expanded my perimeter to sluts in the vicinity. Maybe you should walk next door and warn Liz since going over to her house earlier seemed like such a wonderful fucking idea."

"Jenna, I'm sorry. Ok?"

"No, not ok, Hunter. What were you thinking? You had to know that wasn't going to end well," I spit. "Nothing good was going to come of you going over there alone. That just fueled her fire. Let me fill you in on what went through that tiny pea-sized brain of hers. She saw you wait for me to leave, head over there alone, wanting to reconcile with her in ways you didn't want me to see. You provoked her, unintentionally, but you still did. She knows you don't want her because you are with me. It's a game to her, get you to cheat on me or change your mind and have one last fling with her. She knows it's wrong to mess around with an engaged man, but she is so desperate for male attention that she didn't care if I was in the picture or not. She's the kind of woman who gets off on breaking up relationships. She's a homewrecker, the challenge is exciting to her. She only wants what she can't have. I know all kinds of woman like that and it's disgusting."