2- Cruel fate

I opened my eyes to find myself sitting at the kitchen bar, the cake I bought myself for my birthday sitting on it, unopened.

Had I fallen asleep? Was Owen’s cheating just a dream? More like a nightmare. I shook my head. No. My husband wouldn’t do that to me.

Stretching, I peeked in the cake box to find it undisturbed. Yep. That must have been a dream. An odd one at that. The clock on the wall read seven in the morning, and the light coming in through the window was undiluted by clouds. Checking my phone, it still said that today was my 29th birthday. I sighed in relief that the nightmare was over, closing my eyes again as I tried to erase the vivid images of Owen and the blonde from my mind.

Suddenly, I heard a car horn outside. I rose from my place on the barstool and rushed out to see what was going on. Placing a hand up to block the sunlight, I squinted my eyes. Was that Owen?

It was! He was sitting in his SUV, but he wasn’t alone. The same blonde woman from what I thought was my nightmare sat in the passenger seat. His hands roamed all over her, his tongue shoving into her mouth.

“I don’t believe it,” I whispered. This couldn’t be real. I had to still be dreaming. Right? I just couldn’t believe Owen was really cheating on me.

Had I truly died and been returned to life? And if so, why was I here? Just to bear witness to the terrible events in a different light? This was the kind of stuff that happened in books, not things that happened in real life.

The blonde tramp pulled my cheating husband closer, gripping his thighs and moving her hands to more sensitive areas, which I could see from here were responsive. She began to unzip his jeans, sticking her small hand inside. Her elbow hit the car horn again, and I knew I’d seen enough.

Stomping up to Owen’s car, I banged on the window. He had the audacity to look surprised, which only made me more furious. I could barely breathe from how angry I was, and my nails dug into my palms from how hard I clenched my fists.

“Is this what you do now?” I yelled as he opened the car door. “You find ways to cheat on me? I know it’s not because I’m not good enough. You owe all you have to me and my family’s money.” He stepped out of the car.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he said. “Your family adores me, maybe even more than they do you. They chose me for you because of what I add to their business. If anything, you’re the one who’s useless.”

“Excuse me?” I scoffed, poking my finger in his chest while the blonde tramp watched from the car, eyes wide.

“You heard me.”

I pushed him, but he didn’t budge. Instead, he shoved me, and I fell backward, hitting my head on the iron handrail of the neighbor’s steps, which led up to his house.

The pain erupted from me in waves, and I felt the trickle of blood flowing down the back of my neck and soaking my shirt. Blacking out, my last thought was, “Great. Here we go again.”

I opened my eyes to the same birthday cake on the kitchen bar. I was back in the house, uninjured, but I was pissed. Was fate trying to show me Owen’s true colors? Was she giving me hints? All I knew was that Owen was a cheater, and I was mad as hell.

Above me, I heard a feminine moan and some male grunting.

“Not again,” I seethed, the sound of our bed creaking above us. Our bed! He was screwing someone in our bed! Various curses and choice words flitted through my head.

The woman moaned again, louder, until it turned into a scream of ecstasy. “Yes!” she cried, and Owen moaned, too.

I walked up the stairs, my heart shattering all over again. I knew at that moment that I couldn’t live like this. Tears flowed freely down my cheeks as I realized how much of my life I wasted with him, and that despite how devoted I had been to him, he was only devoted to what lay in his pants.

They were so engrossed in passion that they didn’t hear me come in. Typical. I opened the door to find Owen and an entirely different woman … in our bed. Had he done this often? I knew I was the only one who changed the sheets. Disgust and horror filled me anew at the thought of what we’d been sleeping on.

A coldness came over me, my heart and mind numbing as I stared at them. They didn’t see me yet. He had her bent over in the center of the mattress, so both their backs were to me. I used to find his broad back attractive, but now I will forever remember him in this way: with betrayal.

The brunette was as gorgeous as the blonde but maybe not as young. She was curvy and short, but her breasts were huge, almost plastic surgery huge. I could see that much, though I couldn’t make out her face.

“This is extremely disappointing,” I finally said, unable to keep silent and no longer caring about him. My heart was too far gone. Our love was as fake as the Van Gogh knockoff hanging on the wall.

Owen paused in his disgusting humping, looking over his shoulder. Again, he looked surprised, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. The woman, on the other hand, looked smug, like she was pleased I caught them.

This wasn’t how I wanted to live my life. I was going to leave him, and I would work things out with our business, so I could keep our assets.

“It’s over, Owen,” I said. “We’re done. I’ll have my lawyer send the divorce paperwork in the mail.”

I turned to leave, placing my foot on the stairs, when Owen appeared behind me. He whispered in my ear, “You can’t leave me. I own you.” Then he grabbed my arm to tug me to him, and I yanked back.

My heart jolted because, instead of just removing myself from his grip, I overcorrected. Losing my balance, I tumbled down the stairs, thump by thump. Horror made it feel like I fell in slow motion, but instead of being worried, Owen’s face looked pleasantly surprised to see me falling. He stepped back and watched, and I heard a crack an instant before I died. Or died again.

I woke up again in front of the same birthday cake. I checked my phone, and yep, it was the same day: my twenty-ninth birthday. A text from Owen said he’d be working late. Yeah, probably banging his secretary at this rate. I’d had enough, so I called him and left a voicemail, saying I wanted a divorce.

“Screw it,” I said, opening the cake. I dug in the silverware drawer for a fork, then I took a bite. Something tasted sour about it, but I was going to enjoy this cake! Then I was going to leave Owen.

I took another bite, but I started to feel weak. Then my throat closed up. I looked down at the cake, eyes widening. Had Owen poisoned it? Breathing became too difficult, and panic gripped me. I clutched my throat, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t take in any air. My vision faded to black. Once again, I died.

This time, when I woke, I was at a party. A cake sat in front of me, candles with the numbers 2 and 7 lit. People surrounded me, friends, family, and even business colleagues.

“Aren’t you going to blow out your candles?” Owen asked next to me, concern written on his face.

Alarmed, I glanced around, unsure where I was or what was happening. The decorations were red and black, my two favorite colors. Colors of power. I recognized this place. It was the same room, the same decorations, and the same people. This was my twenty-seventh birthday party.

Had I broken the cycle? Was this my second chance? I became filled with determination to overcome. You’ve heard of cruel fate? Perhaps fate wasn’t as cruel as I first thought. This time, I would do things right. This time, I would leave Owen before he could destroy me.

A small smile curved my lips upward as I closed my eyes and blew the candles out.