Revenge Gone Wrong

The emerald in my hand was brilliant. The diamonds encircling were the perfect touch. It was a delicate bracelet and I wanted it. But could I rationalize the price? I began to work it out in my head. "I've been through a lot", I attempted to convince myself with my thoughts. "I work hard. I deserve something nice."

I suddenly became aware of a presence next to me. In my peripheral vision I could see him edging in closer, a bit apprehensive. I had noticed him earlier in the evening from across the room. His face was familiar. I had seen him at a party in the past; one I had attended with my current boyfriend. He had saved me from a touchy-feely rambler after my self-absorbed boyfriend had disappeared and I remembered I had been very grateful and somewhat charmed by him at the time. However, I had a boyfriend and so thought nothing more of it.

"So, are you as upset as I am about your boyfriend and my girlfriend taking off together for a week-long road trip?" I heard the soft, smooth voice echoing in the back of my head. Gradually the words registered into my consciousness and snapped me out of my partial dream-like state. I no longer noticed the bracelet in my hand. I saw beyond it. I wrinkled my forehead in confusion and jerked my head in his direction, our faces only a few inches apart.

"Huh?" I sharply retorted.

He smiled out of the side of his mouth, a twinkle in his eye. "Oh, don't tell me you don't know about it". He began to chuckle softly to himself.

I straightened up. "I guess I don't", I replied, gingerly placing the bracelet back on its stand. "How can you possibly know this?" I asked, doubtful, as I shifted my stance to face him. I felt a sick, swirly feeling slowly building in the pit of my stomach.

He grinned and leaned in closer, half whispering at me, "I ran into your boyfriend's roommate yesterday. He told me he saw them taking off together in your boyfriend's truck with his custom Harley loaded in the back."

The sickly feeling in the pit of my stomach shot straight up into my throat. My jaw dropped, eyes widening in horror and agony all at once. We stared at each other for several seconds in complete silence. "Wha..." I finally mouthed the words, but there was no voice to support it.

"Unbelievable, huh?" He chuckled again and straightened himself up. I mirrored his actions and followed him across the room to a more private corner of the party. I felt lost in a fog. I couldn't quite wrap my mind around what he had just told me. And why wasn't he upset? He seemed so candid, even laughing sometimes.

I knew my boyfriend was off to a Harley convention out of state. I couldn't attend. He knew this full well when he had asked me to come along the week before, yet he asked me anyway - probably to squander any thought of suspicion on my part. "How crafty of him", I thought to myself. My knees nearly gave out on me. I gathered up every bit of energy I had just to walk.

My informant had positioned himself in a small wooden chair in a corner of the room now. I gazed upon him as I approached, my wildly kinetic thoughts slightly dizzying my head. I sat down hard in the chair across from him. There was a small table between us and I made good use of it, planting both elbows squarely in the center and leaning in closer. "Okay, so my first question is 'what are you doing here'?" I queried in complete bewilderment. Had he come to this party simply to seek me out and shock me with the bad news?

"Denise is a good friend of mine", he casually replied, referring to the party hostess.

I stared at him blankly for a few seconds and then drew in a quick breath, held it for a moment, and explained, "This is a chick party. There's like purses and jewelry and....all kinds of stuff here for women. Nothing for men. NOTHING", I said, flailing my arms about, presenting my case for the obvious side.

He winked at me and leaned in, very smoothly replying, "Well, you never know when I might have a cute girlfriend again. Wouldn't hurt to pick up a little something for the future".

My jaw dropped in disgust, my eyes rolling back into my head. I scoffed and sat back in my seat, "Smooth".

He chuckled, seemingly pleased with himself. I was not impressed.

So, why I invited him over to my place later is beyond me. I think I was still completely in shock from the news flash earlier that evening. At his suggestion, I gave him my phone number and agreed to "get a little revenge of my own". I wasn't sure exactly what he had in mind, but I received a very shocking self-revelation in that moment - I simply didn't care.

I had known for a couple of weeks now that my relationship with my current boyfriend was heading southward, but I never imagined he'd take the liberty of moving on with his life, leaving me to discover it in the tabloids like some cheap Hollywood fling.

Enrique arrived on my doorstep later that evening. He was Latin. I have a thing for Latin men. There are very few of that race I'm not attracted to. I have always envied their skin tone. Perhaps that was my downfall.

I'll spare you the boring details of our rambunctious evening. Let's just say, there was a mutual attraction, the hour was late, the minds were fuzzy, and somehow in the midst of the sparse conversation, the overly amorous kissing and the ambient music, we agreed it would be a good idea to seriously date each other. The thought of surprising our cheating significant others with our own little secret hook-up seemed funny to us in our somewhat incoherent state.

But this relationship was doomed from the beginning. We quickly became bored with each other. We didn't have enough in common. Besides that, Enrique harbored an insecurity...

During one of our yawn-worthy make out sessions one night, he pulled away from me and revealed what he thought was a secret. He had a glass eye. I didn't know if I should laugh or be insulted. It was blatantly obvious. However, it never phased me. I still found him very attractive. I decided to make light of it.

"Well, I have a fake leg", I replied nonchalantly.

"You do?" He exclaimed in complete surprise and immediately began running his hands up and down my legs, desperately trying to uncover the evidence.

I laughed out loud. "I'm just kidding. I already knew your eye was fake. It doesn't matter. You're still hot."

But alas, despite our lustful attraction, the relationship fizzled.

The End

What's that? You wanna' know how we dealt with our significant others upon their return? Well, I don't know the details of Enrique's encounter with his girlfriend, but I can tell you that my boyfriend had the audacity to simply not call again. And after one full week I called him up and proceeded to scream at him.

Then I hung up.

Then he called me back a few hours later and apologized profusely as I bawled and yelled into the phone.

And then I hung up again.

And that was it.

THE END!