#TripleX Read Free

their little gleaming rhinestone heads at me. And the scary part is I have never bought a damn thing that had rhinestones on it, so where the heck are these little sparkly things coming from?
    And what did this all do to me, made me eat a whole box of Oreo cookies. Yeah. Like the McDonald’s meal wasn’t enough. I was all hyped up then, pacing, with sugar pounding through my veins. I felt like someone slipped me a crappy life while I wasn’t looking.
    Again, certainly not what I ordered.
    I couldn’t for the life of me pinpoint when I’d completely lost it. Maybe it was after the third bite of apple pie and first glass of wine or the last bite of pie and the last sip of the second glass of wine. Whenever it was, I realized I needed a change, a big one.
    Slowly, I laid all my food down, and stepped away. I had my mother sit with the girls and decided to go visit my husband at work. No worries, I wasn’t drunk or buzzed. I have already established I’m no light weight.
    My husband. My best friend, my soul mate, the guy I’ve been married to for twenty years, the love of my life, blah-blah-blah. I walked into his office, unannounced, without knocking to find him balls deep in some unwrinkled, non-cellulite collecting, undernourished side-piece.
    This could not be happening to me. No freaking way .
    “Are you kidding me right now?” I screamed, dropping everything I had in my hands onto the floor (which included a box of Twinkies I wanted to share with him). My stomach flew up into my throat, which was threatening to share my regurgitated fast food feast with everybody in the room.
    He scrambled off the couch, pulling up his pants, stuttering and screaming back at me. “Don’t you knock? You just don’t walk into someone’s office like that!”
    Not being able to control any part of my anger, I swiped everything off his desk into a fluttering, thudding pile of junk on the floor. “Yes, you cheating piece of filth. Let’s talk about what I did wrong , and not what I just walked into, shall we?” I stormed up to his face and poked him hard in the chest with my index finger. “You’re disgusting.” His little friend sat still, lacy pink panties still around her thin little ankles.
    That was all I could say, because there were no other words, none. But my husband? Oh, he had a ton to say, a ton.
    Apparently, it was too difficult for him to have stayed in love with someone who loves to eat, was always on her computer writing, reads way too much, and squeals way too high for imaginary book boyfriends (more so than I ever did for him. Well, duh . What else did he think I’d be doing while he was “working late?”) And there is no such thing as reading too much, that’s like saying I was too educated for him. I bet Ms. Spread Eagle Skinny Nonfat Latte, the one I had just caught him getting to know en route through the vagina, doesn’t know how to read.
    To make the entire situation even worse was what Ms. Spread Eagle called me when I wouldn’t shut the door, allowing the entire office to see the debauchery that was afoot, or a-vagina in this case. “Shut the door you stupid fat pig!” she squealed.
     
     
    “Hold on, wait one second,” the judge interjects. “Are you telling me that this woman, this lecher, had the audacity to call you a ‘fat pig’ right after you catch her having sexual relations with your husband?”
    “Oh yeah, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.” I confirm.
    “Christine, don’t forget to tell her the best part. Tell her what she had on,” Angelisa urges.
    “Oh my God, that’s right… she was wearing… Ma’am, do you know what a Bedazzler is?”
    The judge’s eyes widen.
    “I swear to you,” I hold up my right hand and scan the room for a Bible only to come up short. “She was bedazzled down below with rhinestones, that reflected rainbows off it. Like a little magical glittery box. Scary part? She wasn’t wearing any panties. Those were around her