Malice

-2

-Reagan-

For the next few days John stayed close to home. It was a thing he did when he knew he was walking on thin ice. For what, was a mystery. Hadn't I forgiven him for standing me up? I couldn't dwell on things though, or I would drive myself freakin' insane. So I kept myself busy with work. Today I had shown the Millers a few more houses and like always, they had their complains; too big, not big enough, no outdoor pool. The problem was, I'd already shown them so many 'perfect houses', exactly the things on their checklist and they still weren't happy.

By the time I got back from showing, it was way after lunch and I was starved. The office that I shared with another agent was empty. The walls were painted an awful shade of brown and it smelled of pumpkin spice. Didn't like the scent during the seasons, much less in the summer.

On the surface of my fading wooden desk, was a desktop computer, my appointment book-even though I kept appointments in my computer, I was a sucker for paper records-a cup with pencils and pens and a paper weight that I hardly used. Plus the wedding photo of John and I. Every time I glanced towards Amber Smith's desk, it gave me serious anxiety. The middle-aged woman was the sweetest but had no sense of organisation.

I was looking over my appointments when a soft knock came at the opened door. It was Mrs. Miller when I looked up and frowned. Hadn't I just parted ways with them in the parking lot? "Mrs. Miller. Is everything alright?  I didn't forget anything did I?" The old woman waved her hand in the air, dismissing my question and came into the office. She was short, with graying brunette hair and blue eyes that had never lost their vibrancy. I waited for an answer as she took a seat in front of my desk and held her purse close to her body.

"Oh no, Dear. Nothing like that. I just wanted to speak with you for a few minutes alone without Greg chastising me for gossiping." She rolled those eyes of hers and stared at me for a moment. Just what in the hell could this woman want to gossip to me about? When I didn't reply she continued, a deep crimson blush discolored her cheeks. "Greg and I, sometime we like to go to that Motel, you know The Four seasons? Cause when you get older like us, things like that spice it up..." I didn't even have to guess on what she meant by 'it'.

"Anyway. We were there a few nights ago and I could have swore I saw your husband. What's his name? Hmmm-"

"John." My stomach was suddenly filled with the flutters and not good ones. I had to stop and think back to when The Millers had ever even met him. It was a few weeks ago when he had brought me coffee, here in this very office, which was rare for him.

Mrs. Miller snapped her fingers, "Yes, John. Anyway, there was this woman with him. Hair so dang blonde it was almost white and a leggy little thing she was. Hung on him like her life depended on it, mhmmm. But you know she wore a little too much lipstick if you ask me. Just waaaay to much for my liking." She nodded her head as if convincing herself she was right on the money. "Greg swore it wasn't him but I know it was. Just so tall and handsome..." Mrs. Miller stared across at me for a few seconds before she stood up. I could see on her face that she knew she was clearly meddling in something that wasn't her business.

"Um..." To say I was tongue tied would be an understatement. I could feel my scalp and neck tingling hot. If I controlled my breathing just right, my anger wouldn't take over me. Mrs. Miller was almost out of the door before she turned around and gave me this pity-filled look.

"I know it isn't any of my concern but if someone had seen my Greg with another woman, I'd like to know. We women have to stick together, ya know?" After another one of her reassuring nods, the woman was gone and I just sat there, starring out into the hallway after her.

It confirmed all of my suspicions over the last couple of weeks. The coming home late, lingering woman  stench on him, obvious scratch marks on his body. My god, my husband was a bona fide whore. But did it surprise me? Fuck no. I refused to let my emotions get the best of me and grabbed my things before heading out.