1 The Meal~~Part One

...And there they were. I could not allow anyone to tell me anything about Lamont even though they had been telling me for years, wondering how long I would put up with the infidelity, but there they sat. Her graceful shoulders erect, every hair in place. Really, who was she. I could not go by the hinted descriptions of her Elite Social status, or the fact that she drives an Aston Martin, I had to see her for myself. I studied her, what did she have that I didn't, what had he seen in her. Was it her full lips and long legs, her artificially straightened teeth? Had she figured out what he really liked or had he been open with her in an attempt to do things different as opposed to how he had concealed certain fantasies from me. Maybe she was easy to talk to and had not been intimidated by his thoughts of how she would look at him. Maybe she was a freak too...who knows, those kind always are open about their sexuality, the money pacifies the depression from being promiscuous. But there the bitch sat. She hadn't looked as I thought she would although I knew he demanded the uppity class. He mingled. I had thought for a minute I had been noticed, the rehearsed surprised reaction began to play in my mind, ready to emerge from my mouth...however, he had not even noticed I sat in the booth. I could hear almost everything they had to say, even their designated pet names. Sickening. She gloated. He placed his hand on her knee, not seductively, more compassionately...it wasn't a sexual gesture. He was known for his flings, the hotel booty calls, the call girls...even the scare with the waitress that he tried desperately to hide from me, and according to him he had, and had done a damn good job doing so. 'Who would have known she would already be 7 years old!" the bitch exclaimed..."My how time flies, I remember when u held her for the first time. See...your eyes! U looked hysterical!"

Beneficial without being doubted.

I could not believe what I was hearing! Was she suggesting they had a 7 year old daughter that happened in the midst of our 10 year marriage? I had been quiet through it all, sometimes u just have to observe. Who was she? Her name less relevant than her importance...her requisite reckoning insufficient to her worth. It had not been leisure or sex, I could tell, but something more appended. Was she wearing a ring? The disgusting thoughts of them both interacting with one another and hiding a love child from their spouses submerged from the estrogen that had just accumulated in my brain to the pits of my groin, nauseating me to an unutterable sickness, but then the inclination lingered concealing the thoughts of the child I had pictured in a ruffled tutu....were they married? To each other? Our conversations. His words instantly turned to quotes, and in my minds eye they began to emanate from a caricature like figure displaying his facial features, the mouth more prominent for his lies. I began to retract every sentence, every dismissed phone call, every late night and every excuse. The golf trips, the credit card charges, even the aborted surprise birthday party, I should take u home he'd insisted.

His thick eyebrows were uneven, rearranged by his attentiveness showing his absorption and his eagerness to respond without interrupting her. He always interrupted my unworthy conversations. Not only did he hear her, he listened...there was a paramount connection that was evident in his gaze. But who was she?

The mixed emotions set in, my brain would not tell my legs to move, my heart would not tell my eyes to cry...my pride would tell soul to ache. Since when does he like Sangria?

The thought of being betrayed and befooled vanquishes emotion, 10 long years. The miscarriages, the burdens, the discounted nuptials...the silence. What exactly had he anticipated, a naive wife? Or two? His shoulders broadened to show his dominance but his stature now becoming miniscule, the respected viewpoint of him I had once possessed now was a panorama of distorted truth, and all his words had different meanings, I anatonymized everything he had ever said.

Silence is deadly, the ducts of the eyes burn like acid has been applied.

The ringtone chimed as every patron checked their phones, Lamont it read...