SNACK SIZE STORIES: Greyson and Chloe

Chapter 1: When Are You Coming Home?

My day was going to shit. I had a meeting with some potential clients in less than two hours, and realized I had never sent the presentation file on my laptop at home to my office computer. And had I put it on Google Drive? No. Blame that on the sex fog my husband put me in just as I finished my presentations last night and again this morning.

So here I was, racing home just two hours after I left this morning. My sister's car was in the driveway, so I parked in front of my house and my mind was so focused on sending that file and getting back to work that I didn't think too much of it.

When I made my way into the house, I heard voices in the kitchen. Odd -- nobody should be at home, so I walked quietly to the kitchen, still concealing my presence.

And there, sitting on my brand-new countertop on my brand-new kitchen island, was my sister.

Naked.

And standing right in front of her, between her legs, popping a strawberry into her mouth, was my husband.

Equally naked.

Everything in me froze. I watched them for a moment, then my brain started functioning. I took video of them kissing -- naked! -- several times, long and hot and deep and definitely not anything that should be happening between my husband and my sister.

My sister had betrayed me with my husband. She and I had a complicated relationship, where Ricki had been the one favored by our mother, but I thought of her as a good friend who always had my back. Never in a million years had I thought she'd betray me. Well, didn't I feel stupid!

My husband's betrayal also shocked me. I always thought he would be faithful to me, honoring our marriage vows to forsake all others. That cut deep, but I couldn't start bleeding until I got myself out of here.

I snapped a couple of pictures of them so my mother couldn't deny anything just in case the video wasn't enough where my sister told him she wanted to fuck him again before they had to go into work.

Then, for the coup de grâce, I turned my back to them and took a selfie with my blank face in the foreground and their naked bodies and locked lips in the background.

After I scooped up my laptop, I quietly walked out of the house, no longer a home since it had been defiled by the two people I trusted most...and who clearly didn't deserve my faith in them.

Just that morning, right after my alarm had woken me up, my husband had rolled me over and smiled at me. "How about some good luck sex for your presentation?"

I had willingly gone into those strong arms of his and he'd given me all the good luck a girl could want. Even though my husband and I always used condoms, I put getting an STD test on the schedule since...yuck.

Now, a couple of hours later, I nailed my presentation and won the new client's business, my work brain having taken over while my personal brain was curled in the fetal position on the floor, in a dark corner, trying not to feel the pain that she knew was coming.

I used my personal credit card that I used for business trips to book a hotel about an hour away. After I'd scored the new account, I'd gone to the bank and withdrawn half of the funds in our checking account and half of our savings account and opened new accounts in my name only. While there, I also canceled our two joint credit cards.

Then I drove to the hotel after stopping at Target to buy a few things I'd need to tide me over for a few days. It was now five o'clock and my husband, who knew my presentation was right after lunch, kept texting me, asking how it had gone. When I didn't respond after an hour, concern crept into his texts, asking if I was OK. An hour later, the calls began and I ignored them all. I kept waiting for him to ask the question that I needed him to ask, and finally, at 6:23 p.m., he did.

I'm getting worried, sweetheart. When are you coming home?

There it was! I'd been waiting for that particular question, the question that would result in his world, my sister's world, my family's world, blowing up.

When are you coming home? he wanted to know. Was he trying to find out because he wanted to know if he had time for another round or two with my sister?

I texted back one simple word: NEVER

Then I sent him the video, the pictures and last but not least, the selfie of the three of us. That would be the very last picture I would be in with either one of them. They could make it their fucking Christmas card for all I cared.

Then I sent those pictures and the video to my sister, my mother, all my in-laws -- and then I posted them to Facebook so all the relatives who didn't get the personal texts would be able to join in the fun. I also made a quickie Tik Tok video and posted that before turning off my phone, which had begun ringing nonstop. From just about every relative I had, but especially my husband and sister.

As if I'd ever answer a call from the sister fucker ever again. Or my sister. All communication going forward would be through my lawyer. And the husband fucker had simply ceased to exist for me. I didn't need a sister who could do that to me. A real sister would never do that to you.

I took some Tylenol PMs even though it was only seven at night -- but with everything I'd been through that day, it felt much, much later -- and I fell asleep pretty quickly. Those little pills were magic!

When I woke up and turned on my phone, I found out that I'd gone viral.