Ex- Mrs Harts.
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- Parts 22
She came in through the front door, the anger pouring from her body making it hard for the guards to do anything to stop her. They know better than get in her way. She's more than crazy when angry.
The guards at the study door saw her coming, one of them was unfortunate enough to try and stop her from going in "erm...Mrs Harts, you cant go in there..." The withering look she threw at him was enough to shut him up and swallow his next protest.
She got closer to the door and pushed it open. Everyone in there looked to the door to see the person bold enough to interrupt Mr Harts during one of his meetings. When they saw Julie, their faces paled, they thought they got rid of her.
But she wasn't focused on them, her focus was mainly on the man sitting behind the chair at the head of the table. she let her mind wander to the past, to what they had. what they used to have, but all that is no more cos of what he thought she did.
Even after so many years apart, he still looked good enough to eat. she tucked away the feelings that flare up in her. she cant think about him that way, she reminded herself.
when she got to him, her anger appear to have simmer down, but he knew better than assumed she was calm, considering what he did.....she didn't bother with pleasantries. she just glared at him, and asked in a calm soft voice,
"What the fuck did you do!?" she asked him...
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#191
exwife
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Due to my infuriated state, I drove like a mad man and almost got into trouble with the authorities. Fortunately I solely got a slap on the wrist, perhaps the cop that had me pull over was having a great day. Instead of going home, I drove past my house, and headed straight to the bar. The intention was to drink my problems and the rage brewing inside of me away, but I actually fought and annihilated the demons that tempted me to drink alcohol again. I got home late, and peculiarly I wasn't famished but my wife had cooked so I felt compelled to eat. "Is your hands not working or something?" She asked, after I ate and left the plate on the sink. "You want me to work them on you?" I asked, headlessly. "No stupid. I want you to wash your plate after eating." She gritted her teeth, folding her cute hands into fists and if I wasn't so mad at her I would've found it stimulating. "I have a wife for a reason. She's able and willing." "Bullshit!" She sneered. "I'm assuming the plate is still dirty then?" "No." She lowered her voice. "So what is your fucking problem?" I asked, firmly. "My problem is you having shit to say to me yet choosing not to say it." she crossed her amrs, her gorgeous face painted with anticipation. That's when it dawned on me that my wife was gorgeous to me, no matter what state I was in. Literally and figuratively. "Fine." I took slow steps towards her. "I don't know if you've noticed but I don't have anybody. My dad is a dick with herpes, my best friend is a dick intoxicated idiot, and I cut my brother off. I guess I may have been a dick too to a certain extent. My point is that you're my only ally and I can't afford to have you as a weak link." I concluded sternly, and tears started streaming down her face, making me want to take a steel knife and shove it in my chest.Complete
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Due to my infuriated state, I drove like a mad man and almost got into trouble with the authorities. Fortunately I solely got a slap on the wrist, perhaps the cop that had me pull over was having a great day. Instead of going home, I drove past my house, and headed straight to the bar. The intention was to drink my problems and the rage brewing inside of me away, but I actually fought and annihilated the demons that tempted me to drink alcohol again. I got home late, and peculiarly I wasn't famished but my wife had cooked so I felt compelled to eat. "Is your hands not working or something?" She asked, after I ate and left the plate on the sink. "You want me to work them on you?" I asked, headlessly. "No stupid. I want you to wash your plate after eating." She gritted her teeth, folding her cute hands into fists and if I wasn't so mad at her I would've found it stimulating. "I have a wife for a reason. She's able and willing." "Bullshit!" She sneered. "I'm assuming the plate is still dirty then?" "No." She lowered her voice. "So what is your fucking problem?" I asked, firmly. "My problem is you having shit to say to me yet choosing not to say it." she crossed her amrs, her gorgeous face painted with anticipation. That's when it dawned on me that my wife was gorgeous to me, no matter what state I was in. Literally and figuratively. "Fine." I took slow steps towards her. "I don't know if you've noticed but I don't have anybody. My dad is a dick with herpes, my best friend is a dick intoxicated idiot, and I cut my brother off. I guess I may have been a dick too to a certain extent. My point is that you're my only ally and I can't afford to have you as a weak link." I concluded sternly, and tears started streaming down her face, making me want to take a steel knife and shove it in my chest.
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