Not One Tear

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As I looked at his dead body laying in the casket, I was glad to be wearing oversized shades. Hopefully no one could see the smile in my eyes as I kept a stoic face. Yes, he was my children's sperm donor, but he was also my abuser - mentally, physically, sexually, and financially. I was glad he was dead. He was worth more to my children that way. I pretended to wipe a tear away with my gloved hand. It was for appearances only. Being with Gerald off and on for over 20 miserable years had made me a professional actress. I had to pretend to love him and myself. Now that he was dead, I was free. And I had his mistress to thank.
It was she, Monique Spencer, his lover who shot him in the back of his head. I guess she couldn't take what she dished out. It didn't matter that he cheated on me with her! She couldn't take him cheating on her. Although he had being doing it for years, she caught him and she killed him. I smiled on the inside thinking about how sweet revenge was. He was dead. She was headed to prison. My kids and I were moving to another state.
I grabbed Gerrard's hand with my right hand and Ga'Mesha's hand with my left. I led my children to the second pew and sat behind Gerald's mother, brothers, and sisters. I knew they hated that I had a half-a-million dollar insurance policy on my dead husband, and yet I refused to offer a dime toward his funeral costs. They in turn refused to acknowledge me in the obituary. That was fine by me. I wasn't the same woman they met twenty years ago. I was a force to be reckoned with now.
If only they knew how Monique found out about the other woman. I wiped away my daughter's tears and hugged my son close to me as the funeral services began. I took off my gloves and looked at my nails and made a mental note to make an appointment for my daughter and me for Monday, right after I deposited my insurance check into my account. Hopefully the funeral wouldn't last too long, I was already bored reading the program. I stifled a yawn as the choir began to sing.

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