꧁ Cʀᴏᴏᴋs: Bᴇᴛʀᴀʏᴇᴅ ʙʏ Bʟᴏᴏᴅ ꧂

2. Tɪʟʟ Dᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴅᴏ ᴜs Pᴀʀᴛ

What the hell am I doing?
I take a deep breath and lean myself up against the wall, trying to process what I just did. I start to feel a pit in my stomach as I glance at her again, remembering the photo I saw earlier. A wave of guilt and regret suddenly started to rush through me

Jesus, what AM I doing?  I thought to myself.

Maybe I am crossing the line, but there is no going back. I had to pull myself together and stick to the plan, or else I am going to see myself in handcuffs pretty soon.
I had no clue who was home, or who heard me, and I was not going to let myself be caught red handed.

Now, I didn't quite think this part through. There was no way my husband would fall for me dressing up as his mistress- or, would he? We weren't that much different physically, maybe I could pull it off?
She shared the same facial structures as me, and we looked about the same size. Well, it's worth a shot. As I said, there's no going back now.

I grabbed the makeup kit she had been using, and got to work. I made sure everything was the exact same: eyeshadow, lipstick, blush, you name it.

I checked her closet to see if there was anything that I could wear. Sure enough, a stunning, dark red dress was hanging perfectly in front of me, ready to wear. It was perfect. I squeezed myself into it,  zipped it up, and to my surprise, it fit like a glove.

I finished the outfit with some silver pumps that were slightly big but not too bad, white gloves, and a hat to hide my hair.

I didn't even recognize myself in the mirror, it was far from my style and who I was. The pit in my stomach slowly returned as I thought of the real and final test: would my husband fall for it?

I grabbed my purse from up off the floor and hurried to make my way out of the door as fast as possible. On the way out, I noticed that picture again. But, I don't feel guilty or upset this time. This time, I felt anger, a rage that was slowly coming on to me as I thought about what me and him used to be. How happy we were, and how we were almost a happy family. But, I guess all good things must come to an end, and this end will be his last.

I grabbed the frame and slammed it to the ground, watching the glass slowly shatter into pieces. I felt a smirk form on my face, and I turned to walk out of the house.

The bar we would be meeting up at was only a few blocks down, so I ended up getting there in a relatively short amount of time. I slowly made my way through the door, trying to make my way around and spot him through the crowd.

It was dark, and the overwhelming smell of cigarette smoke was so strong it felt cancerous just breathing it in.

My good friend, Alice Foster, was performing on stage. She used to be my dance partner years ago, but we ended up both going our own separate paths after a while. I decided to go into teaching, while she kept up the dancing gig solo. We still kept our friendship going, however, and I had told her all  about my idea. She wasn't completely on board with it, but still decided to help me plan it all out.

I also got some support from one of my students, Lucielle Williams. Although she makes me want to pull my hair out sometimes, she has always stuck out from everyone else.

Not always in a good way though , she's rebellious and didn't care much for paying attention during school, but something about her stuck with me.
She wasn't completely an idiot, and did have a soft spot in her. I offered to let her babysit Cynthia at times, and she willingly did it. We got along pretty well, and she is only just now graduating from the Catholic school.

I also told her about the idea I had, considering she's committed some pretty scandalous acts herself, and she also agreed to help me plan things and give me additional support.