Never sleep with people you work with

I met Laura about a year after I started my new job.  I was instantly taken with her.  She had beautiful blonde hair, wide green eyes, and a nice, hard body.

Aside from the immediate physical attraction, oncs I got to know her, her personality appealed to me, too.  She knew when to talk, when to be quiet, her patience was unyielding (which is a great feature as I know I can be difficult) and, best of all, she was always down to fuck.

Unfortunately, as with most offices, workplace romance was frowned upon there.  It was hard keeping our affair quiet; I could barely keep my hands off of her.  We'd have to sneak away and steal moments together whenever we thought it was safe.

Much to my chagrin, Laura suddenly disappeared without any warning.  I was shocked and heartbroken.  The bigger part of me assumed she had left so abruptly to avoid me, but a smaller part that I couldn't silence worried that something awful had happened to her.  I decided to investigate a little bit.

I had never tried to add her on social media; what if our co-workers saw and got suspicious?  It was too risky.  Still, I was a little surprised at myself for never at least taking a peek.  A little Facebook stalking is perfectly normal, right?

I wish I had looked sooner.  I couldn't believe what I saw.  Laura was married.  Married!  Not only was she married, but she also had a 3-year old son.  I felt sick.  How could she keep this from me?  I thought what we had was special.  Cold-hearted bitch. It hurt.

But the hurt quickly wore off, and I grew angry.  No, not angry.  Furious.  I couldn't just sit by and take this.  I decided to confront her.  I tore my keys off of my desk and stormed out to the parking lot.  Sitting in my car, I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, then rested my head against it.  What was I doing?  Was this the right thing?  My confidence momentarily wavered, but my fury quickly set back in and I started the ignition.

Driving over to her house--I’d pulled her address from work files--I planned out what I wanted to say.  I could feel my hands involuntarily clenching around the steering wheel.  To be perfectly honest, even though I was trying to think about what to say, my mind kept wandering to how good it would feel to hit her in the face.  How satisfying it would be to see the look of shock on that lying bitch’s face as my fists pummeled her flesh into a bloody pulp.  

In that moment, I was filled with a hatred that was more powerful than any emotion I'd ever felt.  My thoughts progressed from hitting her to taking a knife and splitting her open from neck to navel.

Emboldened by these thoughts, I strode up to her door and knocked authoritatively.  The man I identified as her husband from browsing her Facebook answered the door.  Initially, I panicked, but then my lip curled in a smile.  A new opportunity presented itself.  

I reached down, pretending to get the newspaper for him, but instead grabbed a rock sitting on their front step and quickly bashed it against the side of his head.  It made a satisfying crack against his skull and he hit the ground with a thud.  

Dragging his body into the house, I looked around for signs of the little boy.  I'm not a monster, I didn't want to hurt a child.  I didn't see him playing anywhere in the immediate vicinity, but I walked through the house anyway to make sure.  As I made my way through the house, I saw pictures of Laura everywhere.  Laura with her husband and son, Laura at her wedding, Laura laughing with friends.

I couldn't take it.  I stormed back into the kitchen where his unconscious body was, grabbed a pot off the stove and slammed it over and over again into his skull until brain matter flew out.  Then I hit him a few more times for good measure.

Suddenly, I was hit with a jolt of fear and realization.  I had just committed murder without having an alibi ready.  In a panic, I decided the best thing to do was to drive back to work and hope no one noticed I was missing.

I drove back to the office immediately.  It was hard not to speed, but the last thing I needed was to draw the attention of the cops.

Walking quickly into my office, I heard the phone ringing.  Shit shit SHIT.  I ran to my desk, miraculously picking up the receiver before the answering machine picked up.

“Everly and Sons Mortuary,” I said.

“Hey, Brandon, it's Jamie.  I forgot to get you to sign off on the Laura Horton autopsy, could you run down to my office and do that real quick?”

I breathed a sigh of relief.  He wasn't suspicious.  “Sure thing, I'll be right down.”

I had cut it close, but, for the moment, I'd gotten away with it.  This must be why they want you to keep sex out of the workplace.