Post by Michelle Mackenzie (Admin) on Dec 11, 2010 15:52:23 GMT 1
Nadine followed her husband, George, to a large hotel in Flagstone.
The building loomed over the smaller buildings, making them look tiny in comparison.
She kept out of sight, biting her lip as her nerves ate at her. George lingered outside the grand building, repeatedly looking at his wrist watch.
He tugged nervously at his stripey blue and white shirt. Pacing back and forth once more, he finally buried his hands deep into his black trouser pockets, grimacing.
A woman walked up to him. It was no one she knew. She was wearing a long seqeuin red dress, red high heeled shoes, with a white jacket that just about covered her back. The woman smiled at him, greeting him with a passionate kiss.
Nadine gritted her teeth,watching as her husband ran his fingers through the woman's long blonde wavy hair.
"I knew it," she thought bitterly. "He is having an affair. Who the hell does he think he is?"
Her hands clenched tightly into fists, bitterly considering walking up to them and slap them both.
Before she could make a decision, George and the woman in red disappeared through the hotel entrance.
Standing silently for what seemed an eternal five minutes, she turns her back on the Ominous building.
Tears threatened to blur her vision as she walked down the frosty pavements of the Flagstone town in the Old Empire of Splice.
She clutched her leather jacket, trying to fight back some of the icy coole air. Her fingers stung from the cold; she wished that she had remembered to pack her gloves before following her husband for almost an hour.
The street was unusally empty; she assumed that a lot of people stayed home to avoid the cold. Now, she wished that she had chosen to do the same. Though, if she had stayed at home in the one bedroomed flat, she would not have seen her husband having an affair.
She felt sick, trying not to think about what her husband was doing with the woman in red.
"I shall not stand for it," she told herself firmly. "Now I know their dirty secret, she is welcome to him."
As she arrived home, she dug her hand deep into her pocket and pulled out her front door keys.
The door opened with an unwelcoming creak. She stepped inside slowly and closed the black painted door behind her. She was greeted by the silence. She walked down the hall, listening to her soft footsteps. She sighed reluctantly before reminding herself of her cheating husband. As much as she loved him, cheating was the only thing that she could not forgive.
She opened a white door, situated next door to the lounge. She glanced around with a frown. The door opened to their bedroom. Swallowing hard, she got down on her knees feeling the soft lilac carpet beneath her. She thrust her hands beneath the double bed and dragged out a suitcase. She grunted, dislodging it from the mattress. Solemnly, she climbed back onto her feet and placed the luggage on to the bed. She blinked, then raised her hands idly to the wardrobe door knobs.
Her clothes were hanging tidely on the right hand side of the large pine wardrobe. A tear rolled down her cheek, as she began to unhook her clothes and place them neatly into her case.
She grabbed her handbag that sat on the dresser beside the bed. It was fairly big, so she had enough room for all her make up.
Zipping up the bags, she took a final look around their room. Returning to collect more of her belongings was something she was not in the mood for. She smiled sadly, glancing proudly at George's manuscript sitting neatly on his bedside cabinet.
She rummaged through his draws and pulled out a sheet of blank paper.
A pen was sitting on top of the pile of paper. She held it gentley and began to write.
A tear rolled down her cheek, dripping on to the paper.
"Dearest George,
I know about your affair with the blonde woman. I saw how you kissed her; the way you used to kiss me. I am sorry that I am not enough for you anymore. I am angry at your betrayal. Worse, I am angry at myself for thinking that you wouldn't betray me. Be assured, this will not happen again.
Yours no more,
Nadine.
You are free."
Nadine pulled a pin out from her sewing kit she found in her husband's draw, then pinned the letter to a wall beside the front door. She took a deep breath in, then opened the front door, closing it behind her. She stood mute for a long moment, silently vowing to somehow repay him for his betrayal.
The morning arrived with the usual bitter cold air.
Warren's phone began to ring. "Hello?" he yawned.
He sighed, it was his boss calling.
"George Groundsman didn't turn up for court? Are you sure?"
He rolled his eyes, his boss wasn't amused.
"No sir. I am not second guessing you. I will go and pick him up right now."
He hung up the phone and rubbed his eyes. He would have to buy some breakfast on the way over to see George, again. It was becoming an unhealthy habit.
He grabbed his coat, for once being thankful that he always got dressed before breakfast.
He slipped on his black shoes, then fastened his buttons of his brown trench coat.
With a sigh of reluctance, he grabbed his brown texas immatation hat from the coat hanger.
He grabbed his keys and walked out of the front door, slamming it behind him.
He stepped out of the house, gritting his teeth from the cold.
The building loomed over the smaller buildings, making them look tiny in comparison.
She kept out of sight, biting her lip as her nerves ate at her. George lingered outside the grand building, repeatedly looking at his wrist watch.
He tugged nervously at his stripey blue and white shirt. Pacing back and forth once more, he finally buried his hands deep into his black trouser pockets, grimacing.
A woman walked up to him. It was no one she knew. She was wearing a long seqeuin red dress, red high heeled shoes, with a white jacket that just about covered her back. The woman smiled at him, greeting him with a passionate kiss.
Nadine gritted her teeth,watching as her husband ran his fingers through the woman's long blonde wavy hair.
"I knew it," she thought bitterly. "He is having an affair. Who the hell does he think he is?"
Her hands clenched tightly into fists, bitterly considering walking up to them and slap them both.
Before she could make a decision, George and the woman in red disappeared through the hotel entrance.
Standing silently for what seemed an eternal five minutes, she turns her back on the Ominous building.
Tears threatened to blur her vision as she walked down the frosty pavements of the Flagstone town in the Old Empire of Splice.
She clutched her leather jacket, trying to fight back some of the icy coole air. Her fingers stung from the cold; she wished that she had remembered to pack her gloves before following her husband for almost an hour.
The street was unusally empty; she assumed that a lot of people stayed home to avoid the cold. Now, she wished that she had chosen to do the same. Though, if she had stayed at home in the one bedroomed flat, she would not have seen her husband having an affair.
She felt sick, trying not to think about what her husband was doing with the woman in red.
"I shall not stand for it," she told herself firmly. "Now I know their dirty secret, she is welcome to him."
As she arrived home, she dug her hand deep into her pocket and pulled out her front door keys.
The door opened with an unwelcoming creak. She stepped inside slowly and closed the black painted door behind her. She was greeted by the silence. She walked down the hall, listening to her soft footsteps. She sighed reluctantly before reminding herself of her cheating husband. As much as she loved him, cheating was the only thing that she could not forgive.
She opened a white door, situated next door to the lounge. She glanced around with a frown. The door opened to their bedroom. Swallowing hard, she got down on her knees feeling the soft lilac carpet beneath her. She thrust her hands beneath the double bed and dragged out a suitcase. She grunted, dislodging it from the mattress. Solemnly, she climbed back onto her feet and placed the luggage on to the bed. She blinked, then raised her hands idly to the wardrobe door knobs.
Her clothes were hanging tidely on the right hand side of the large pine wardrobe. A tear rolled down her cheek, as she began to unhook her clothes and place them neatly into her case.
She grabbed her handbag that sat on the dresser beside the bed. It was fairly big, so she had enough room for all her make up.
Zipping up the bags, she took a final look around their room. Returning to collect more of her belongings was something she was not in the mood for. She smiled sadly, glancing proudly at George's manuscript sitting neatly on his bedside cabinet.
She rummaged through his draws and pulled out a sheet of blank paper.
A pen was sitting on top of the pile of paper. She held it gentley and began to write.
A tear rolled down her cheek, dripping on to the paper.
"Dearest George,
I know about your affair with the blonde woman. I saw how you kissed her; the way you used to kiss me. I am sorry that I am not enough for you anymore. I am angry at your betrayal. Worse, I am angry at myself for thinking that you wouldn't betray me. Be assured, this will not happen again.
Yours no more,
Nadine.
You are free."
Nadine pulled a pin out from her sewing kit she found in her husband's draw, then pinned the letter to a wall beside the front door. She took a deep breath in, then opened the front door, closing it behind her. She stood mute for a long moment, silently vowing to somehow repay him for his betrayal.
The morning arrived with the usual bitter cold air.
Warren's phone began to ring. "Hello?" he yawned.
He sighed, it was his boss calling.
"George Groundsman didn't turn up for court? Are you sure?"
He rolled his eyes, his boss wasn't amused.
"No sir. I am not second guessing you. I will go and pick him up right now."
He hung up the phone and rubbed his eyes. He would have to buy some breakfast on the way over to see George, again. It was becoming an unhealthy habit.
He grabbed his coat, for once being thankful that he always got dressed before breakfast.
He slipped on his black shoes, then fastened his buttons of his brown trench coat.
With a sigh of reluctance, he grabbed his brown texas immatation hat from the coat hanger.
He grabbed his keys and walked out of the front door, slamming it behind him.
He stepped out of the house, gritting his teeth from the cold.