A perfect picture

CHAPTER ONE

Before she walked into her bedroom she knew what she was walking into. She knew that the blond was here.

She had smelt her awful perfume when she walked in through the front door.

John wouldn’t have heard her stop in the drive way.

He wouldn’t have heard her unlock and walk through the front door.

He wouldn’t have heard her heels clicking on the tile floors, as she walked down the passage to their bedroom.

He would have had no idea that she got home early because the music was blaring from the entertainment system in the lounge.

She stepped into her room knowing she was going to witness her husband enjoying another woman in her bed. She was sure it would hurt a whole lot more then it did.

She said nothing as his eyes locked onto hers in the reflection of her mirror. He had seen the movement of her shadow.

The blond moaned for him not to stop.

Shock was evident in John’s eyes as he stood frozen behind the blond... still inside her.

She smiled though her tears. “Please don’t stop on my behalf, finish your orgasms. I’ll wait in the kitchen.” She spun on her toes and walked to the kitchen. Wiping her tears she sat waiting for her husband to rush in giving her every excuse in the book...

He hadn’t done that, while she sat waiting for him she heard them fighting. She heard how the blond stormed out HER house and slamed the front door. She heard how John put his ‘get it on’ music off...

She got up, her back to the kitchen’s entrance. She heard him walk into the kitchen as she flicked the kettle on. “Would seriously prefer something stronger but seen as how one of us will be driving I will have to settle for coffee for now.” She said without turning to look at her husband, she heard him sit at the kitchen counter.

His voice was soft and filled with guilt “babe...” she spun around to face her husband. “You haven’t called me babe in years. Why on earth would you choose to do that after I just saw you with that blond in our bed?” her voice wasn’t loud but her tone sliced through him.

He looked up from his hands. His eyes filled with emotions. “I’m sorry.” He whispered.

She could feel her blood boiling. But she was not about to loose it. She kept her voice as normal as she could. “Sorry for what exactly, John? Sorry because I caught you?” John shook his head.

“Gillian... please.” John whispered.

She turned back to the kettle and continued making their coffee. “Please what, John?” she was fighting to keep herself from screaming at him.

She longed to break everything she could get her hands on... John included. She placed his coffee in front of him and stayed on the opposite side of the counter.

She remained standing with her coffee mug in her hands. Gillian watched him over the brim of her mug as she swallowed the warm fluid that she wished was actually strong alcohol.

John gave her a sad smile. His hand caressed the counter that lay between them. “How many times do you think we’ve made love on this counter?” her eyes remained cold. “Apparently not enough.” John flinched. “Gillian, I am sorry. So very, very sorry. Please...” she held up her left hand to silence him.

“Don’t you dare ask me to stay, John. You have no right to ask me to do that.” Again John cast his eyes down. Gillian shook her head as she studied the man before her. He was not your conventionally  good looking man, but she had been attracted to him from the moment their eyes met across the coffee shop.