CHAPTER FIVE

Sex is Amazing

 

The night before the wedding

Four days before Christmas

Rhema’s house

 

It was 2:45 a.m. according to the kitchen microwave, and Rhema stood at the sink in the dark, peering out the window into the backyard. Ice clinked in the glass she held, and her silk night robe clung to the sweat of her back. She wiped her forehead with her hand and was disgusted by the slick of sweat that was left on it.

Moonlight shone through the patio widow so clearly that she could see her reflection in the glass. She looked like she’d just had a romp with the Devil. David had always done that to her. Always left her satisfied, and always disheveled and sweaty. According to him, if they weren’t sweating, they weren’t doing it right. Even though it disgusted her, she felt proud all the same. Those were the nights that she lived for. Making love to David and then coming downstairs to get some peace and quiet. The yard was in good order, but the pool was covered. She wished that it was summer, but the winter had its own appeal. The light dusting of snow on the ground seemed to make the outside glow, and a subtle wind blew through the branches as they danced in the moonlight.

She dumped her unfinished water and ice in the sink and placed the glass in the dishwasher. Then she turned around to go back upstairs but froze when she saw a dark figure dart across her backyard. She saw something move again, and she jumped back, trying to catch her breath. She was completely unsure of what she had just seen. Once she found her bearings, she walked closer to see what it could be, but her view was obstructed by the glare on the glass, so she walked closer, hoping not to be seen.

The black figure was trying to scale their privacy fence to get over to the other side, but it was apparent that they were out of shape. Rhema walked away from the window and into the office and unlocked the gun cabinet. She pulled out the 9mm that David had gotten her for Christmas a few years back.

We paid too much damn money for this house, and I am not going to be robbed, she thought to herself. She had worked too hard for what she had. When she made it back to patio door, she peered out again, and the figure was still trying to jump the fence.

What an idiot. Why didn’t he just use the gate? But the point was to not be seen. After the tenth and final attempt, the figure stepped into the moonlight, and she could see that it was Kyle. Kyle lived in the house next to them, on the other side of the Kellys, with his wife Emily and their two boys. He was in his late thirties, an average-sized guy, stocky with a beer belly and skin that had been reddened by the sun. He was a paramedic and an assistant football coach at one of the nearby schools. Emily was the obvious breadwinner, but he wasn’t too bad looking, and by looking at his build you knew that at some point in his life he had been athletic, but that time had passed.

Rhema reached to unlock the door, eager to confront him, until she saw Maggie climb over from the opposite side. Rhema stood looking through the window confused, until she saw them kiss. Rhema repositioned herself to get a better view. She wasn’t so much surprised as intrigued. It was cold outside, but that didn’t seem to bother them. She watched as he pulled down her pajama pants and leaned her up against the fence. Rhema watched, amused. These people were going at it in her backyard right in the middle of winter.

She watched them for a good eight minutes, then she heard a cry that sounded more like a dying cat, and it was over. He gave her a boost over the fence, and once she had made it safely over, he walked back to the other side of the yard and stared at the fence. He appeared to be thinking, then he turned and walked over toward the gate, checking his surroundings.

Rhema laughed. His fat self doesn’t want to climb the fence, she thought. She was excited for the entertainment, but as she put the gun away, her excitement turned into anger. How dare they. She knew that she had to teach them a lesson, but she wasn’t going to worry about it at the moment. She would fix them tomorrow. She went back upstairs and woke David and demanded a second round with the Devil.

 

***

Rhema sat at the breakfast table, sipping her coffee. Sun rays beamed through the sheer curtains as Rhema reveled in her morning ritual. Julian had just left to go to a friend’s house for the rest of the weekend, and David had just kissed her goodbye before leaving to run errands. Elsea’s wedding was today, and Rhema felt that she had more important things to do than deal with this wedding.

Mrs. Kelly had already called her several times, but Rhema just looked at her phone as it rang. It buzzed again, and Rhema provided the same response as the previous calls: a glance and then a decline. This was her morning, and it wasn’t going to be interrupted. Her evening hadn’t been restful, but she felt rejuvenated, and her energy was going to be spent doing what she needed to do before she decided to be of any service to a nag like Mrs. Kelly.

She thought about Julian’s party. How Elsea was so nervous. Thinking of Elsea’s armpit-ringed sweater made her nauseous, but for some reason she felt sorry for her. Maybe because she reminded her of herself as a child, but Rhema had grown up fast and learned at a young age that she wasn’t going to take shit from anyone. It was her nervousness, the fear in her eyes that seemed so familiar but angered her beyond reason. Weak. That was what she was. If a person wasn’t willing to fight for themselves, they got exactly what they deserved. That was Rhema’s philosophy.

Weakness was the human condition in her eyes. People acted in kindness, but she knew better. Most were regulated by social expectations; that was the only thing keeping them in check, and she knew because she was one of those people. One of those people who had to fall in line in order to keep from being targeted, from being ostracized. It meant she was weak. Not strong enough to be herself. Weakness and fear. The thought made her burn with rage because no matter how much she tried to eliminate the fear and weakness, it always found a way to resurface.

She glanced down at the notebook and pen that sat on the table next to the coffee. She opened up the notebook, picked up the pen, and began to write. Pride and satisfaction rose up within her, and a smile stretched across her face. When she was finished, she looked down and read her masterpiece.

Emily,

You don’t know what I’m about to tell you. Your husband has been spending his nights with me. With me. I just want you to know that he loves me, not you. At night he is in my bed, and when you’re not home, I’m in yours! If you want my advice, you better find yourself a good attorney because you are on your way out, and I am on my way in. You are worthless to him in every way, especially in the bedroom. That is why his lips are constantly glued to mine. Get your life in order, bitch, because your man is mine.

Sincerely,

The woman screwing your husband

She sealed the letter in an envelope and even provided a stamp. She addressed the letter to Emily and set it on the banister so she would not forget it.

Rhema dressed and went for her morning walk as usual, the letter in hand. When she felt like there was no one watching, she slipped the letter into Emily and Kyle’s mailbox and continued down the street.