Can You Handle It (Naughty Bedroom Collection)

Dave: Me too. For what it’s worth, I prefer your brand on my lips.

My heart sank into my chest.

I couldn’t bear to read more of that conversation, so I tortured my heart with another.

Dave: Once I celebrate the 1st anniversary with Harlow, we won’t be able to do this as much. She’s mentioned wanting a baby, so you and I will have to use condoms.

HeatherWren: Boo to condoms. I’ll tolerate them for you, though. Do you want a baby?

Dave: I don’t know what I want anymore.

HeatherWren: I think you want to be with someone you love. Not someone who just has a ‘college sweetheart’ title. smile emoji (I don’t want a baby. Ever.)

Dave: Remind me to give you an extra kiss tonight.

HeatherWren: Only if it’s a kiss on my lower lips. Dave: LOL. Where else would it be?

I clicked on another.

Heather Wren: Are you still having your anniversary party at her gallery this Sunday?

Dave: Yes.

HeatherWren: Can I come over?

Dave: Only for two hours.

HeatherWren: I’m already outside. Open the door.

Utterly enraged, I read every word in every thread—even the ones that made me want to scream. I wasn’t sure how Dave met her or when, but I sensed that this “Calc” thing was only capturing the latter part of the affair.

Has he ever been faithful?

Once I’d made my way through their words, I wasn’t sure I could handle the “plus sign” where they stored all the pictures.

Do it …

Like a masochist, I scrolled through the pictures he sent to her first.

Dick-pics while standing in our master shower, cute smiling ones while cooking in our kitchen, and some of the same sight-seeing ones from business trips that he’d sent to me. Finally, there was one of him blowing her a kiss while he was standing in my gallery. In it, my back was turned.

The sudden sound of the alley door opening wasn’t enough to make me look away.

He had time to send her all these naughty pictures, but whenever I’d asked for one, he’d said, “Dirty pictures just aren’t my thing.”

My top assistant, Ashley, cleared her throat and waved her hand in front of my face. “Um, Miss Harlow? The caterer wants you to check some of the truffle tarts before they’re served.”

“I need you to do that for me.” My blood was simmering, and I had first-degree murder on my mind. “Can you, please?”

“Sure. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Yes.” I scrolled through more pictures of the cunt posing in my closet and kitchen, with whipped cream artfully placed on her tits. “I need you to tell Chelsea to hide my house keys. Then she needs to take me back to her place within the next five minutes.”

“I think she stepped out to grab a coffee.”

“Four and a half minutes.” I stopped at a picture of the mistress wearing my favorite bathrobe. “Or, she’ll be witnessing me commit a double homicide tonight.”

“I’ll get her right away.” She rushed inside, and I forwarded every picture and text message to my phone. I desperately wanted to forward them to Dave’s coworkers and employees as well, but I held back.

There was no need for that.

Yet.

Then again, there was no need for any conversation with explanations or any chance at apologies.

I didn’t want to hear denial or rebuild something with the same person who’d blissfully torn it apart.

I was filing for divorce in the morning.

As long as Chelsea prevents me from killing him (and her) first.

The Good Wife

Tyler

You are cordially invited

to a yard sale by Harlow McGuire

Every suit, pair of shoes, and device is $25.00

First come, first serve.

Whatever remains will be burned.

Escala

1920 4th Avenue

Seattle, Washington 98101

I reread the words on Harlow’s “invitation,” and immediately called Chelsea.

“If you’re calling to say anything other than, ‘I’ve changed my mind about being in your wedding,’ hang up now.”

“I’ve changed my mind about being in your wedding.”

“What?” She gasped. “Really?”

“No, not really, Chelsea,” I said. “But I’ll do it this one last time for you. I’m flying away for a job, but I wanted to check on Harlow. Is she alright?”

“Yes and no. She’s a nervous wreck who desperately needs to get fucked.” She laughed. “By the way, I never said that.”

I’m glad you did. “Can you give her my new number whenever you get a chance? Maybe next week or so?”

“Sure. Trying to personally send her well wishes?”

“Something like that.”

“You’re so sweet!” There was a smile in her voice. “Thank you so much for coming around with my wedding, Tyler.”

“You’re so very welcome…”

Single Ladies

Harlow

I curled into a ball on Chelsea’s couch, trying to ignore the loud moans and ass slaps that were coming from her bedroom.

Note to self: Should’ve fought Dave harder for the condo.

Turning on the television, I pushed the volume as high as it could go and flipped through the channels.

A video of a beautiful, sandy-white beach with rolling blue waves made me stop at the Travel & Leisure channel.