Page 1 of Axes & Nos

Prologue

Four Years Ago

Myra

Steven was going to be so surprised when he saw me. I’ve been working such long hours at the firm that I haven’t been able to give him the time he deserves. When he doesn’t get the time he deserves, he has a tendency to wonder. Not like out into traffic kind of wondering, no, the kind of wondering that hurts me, on the inside. It’s not his fault really; he’s got this really outgoing personality, he’s got muscles for days, and a smile that will knock you on your ass when he lays it on you. Women flock to him, it’s just his natural chemistry, he can’t help it. If you were a hungry lion and someone dangled a yummy looking steak in front of you, you’d eat it. That’s what happens with these girls, he gets hungry for attention, and these women dangle themselves in front of him and he doesn’t have any resistance to it.

So, see it’s not really his fault if his rather plain to look at fiancé stops giving him the attention, he needs that he starts wondering. Yes, I know how pathetic that sounds even as I think it, but he really does love me. He wouldn’t have put a ring on it if I wasn’t his person. Granted it was my grandmother’s wedding ring. She left me it in her will, but he still picked me, that’s what matters here. Those other women mean nothing to him, they can’t hold his attention like I can, I have the ring to prove he’s mine, they don’t.

Getting out of my car I struggle getting all the bags out together, because I’m She-ra and I can carry all the bags. My arms may look like I’ve been kidnapped and held for ransom afterwards, but at least I don’t have to make a second trip to my car. Using my foot, I kick the door to my cute, but old Beetleclosed and make my way up the million stairs of our apartment building. Okay I might have exaggerated that number a little, but not by much. It’s one of those complexes where the stairs wind and do that zig zag thing when you’re going up and the elevator is always out.

As I make my way to our apartment my arms start to tingle from the circulation being cut off by the twenty bags I’m carrying. I told you I was fucking She-ra! I knock softly on the door, hoping Steven is up from his midday nap so he can open the door, but not loud enough that if he’s sleeping, I’ll disturb him. Don’t judge him, law school is hard and he’s studying for the bar exam, he takes a midday nap, so his brain gets a rest. When he doesn’t answer I attempt to juggle the bags in my arms to get my keys, but it’s a losing battle. Instead, I decided to deactivate my She-ra mode and place a few of the bags on the floor in front of my door in order to search for my keys.

As I put my keys in the door, I think I hear giggling, and I wonder briefly if Mister Henderson down the hallway has one of his lady friends over for some happy fun time. Mister Henderson is an 80-year-old widower turned man-whore. He lost his wife a few years ago and ever since then he’s been making his way through the over 65 crowd in the building. I told Steven I thought the reason he was sleeping around so much was because he missed the connection he had with his wife. Steven said the reason he’s sleeping around is because the man had the same pussy for forty damn years and he was finally free. We agreed to disagree.

Sticking my key in the lock I have to jiggle it just right to get in the keyhole, because the lock is an asshole and our landlord refuses to replace it. I like to think of it as I jimmy the lock each time which makes me feel a little like a criminal breaking into my own apartment. Finding joy in things that don’t always go as planned is kind of how I’ve lived my whole life. When yourparents decide they don’t want you anymore and sign custody of you over to your grandma you kind of have no choice but to try and find the bright side of life.

Toeing the door open I reach down for the rest of the bags, getting ready to activate She-ra mode again when I hear a very feminine moan. Only I’m pretty sure it’s coming from my apartment and not Mister Henderson’s down the hall. Pushing the door open a little more I step over the bags and make my way inside our apartment, curiosity getting the better of me. Briefly I think Steven is probably watching a porn, which isn’t such a bad thing, it means he’ll be excited when he sees me. I drop the remaining bags on the floor by the kitchen and make my way to our bedroom.

“Oh god Steve, right there, don’t stop.” My stomach dips. No. No, not in our apartment. Not in our home we’ve made together. Not in our bedroom, in the bed we bought together okay fine it was from a second-hand store, but it was solid wood and beautiful. My feet take me to the bedroom door, and I stand there, fear freezing me in place.

“Take it like the good girl I know you are Theresa.” Steven’s masculine voice rumbles through the door. He swore he’d never bring someone to our place, that it was sacred to him, it meant something to him.

Pushing open the door I’m graced by the sight of my fiancé naked ass plowing into someone. For a second, I’m mesmerized by his muscles working in his gluteus maximus, he does have a fine-looking ass. Shaking my head I take in the rest of the scene. Whoever he’s banging I can’t see her face or body, but on her feet, which are wrapped around Steven’s neck, are a pair of five-inch stilettos and her toes are perfectly painted a pretty pale pink.

Sadly, I look down at my own feet for a second thinking about how long it’s been since I’ve had perfectly painted toes. Ihaven’t had time for a pedicure or even to paint my own toes because I’ve been working so much. Is that why he did this? Was it because I’ve been working so many hours? Maybe if I took time to take care of my appearance, he wouldn’t have run to this floozie with perfectly painted toes.

I’m brought back to reality by the sounds of skin slapping skin faster and snap my head back up. They don’t even realize someone has walked in. They’re so completely enamored by each other they haven’t even noticed me standing there in the doorway. I should probably say something and if I’m honest I have a million things I want to say, but instead I’m frozen watching like some creepy voyeur. My heart is breaking into tiny pieces as I watch Steven ram into her over and over again, grunting like some pig as he finishes.

“God, I love you.” He says as he bends over her, her legs bending at an angle that can’t be comfortable, but at his words something snaps inside me. My hurt turns to anger, anger that turns into fire, fire that starts to burn like a physical thing inside my chest.

“You love her?” I ask in a quiet menacing voice that causes both of them to jerk away from each other.

“Myra, what...what are you doing home so early.” He slides out of miss floozie, a wet popping sound follows before I can see her cooter right there in front of my face. First his ass now her cooter are staring at me, cum dribbling out of it.

“You couldn’t even use protection. What if she got pregnant? What if she had some disease? Steven did you even think about any of that when you decided to bring some random floozie home to bang?” Steven looks from me to the floozie and back again. The floozie sits up, not even bothering to cover her giant tits, her face red with anger.

“You told me she knew!” The floozie screeches as she throws a pillow at Steven then stands up grabbing her clothes thatI’m just now realizing are thrown all over the floor. Meanwhile Steven is standing there, dick in his hands, because clearly neither of the women present have ever seen his sad little ding a ling already.

“I’m not some random floozie, we’ve been seeing each other for over a year. I’m his fucking fiancé.” The floozie flashes a sparkly diamond my way and I blink two or three times trying to make everything I’m seeing make sense.

“Excuse me...a year. Steven what the actual fuck?” I ask as the floozie starts to jerk on her clothes while glaring at Steven.

“Yeah Steven, what the actual fuck? You said she knew about me. You said she understood why you were staying with her while you took the bar.” Steven looks like a deer caught in the headlights as his eyes bounce back and forth between me and the floozie. No, not floozie, his fiancé. I show the girl my own engagement ring to her and her face starts turning purple with rage.

“Theresa I can explain, please let me explain. I love you, don’t leave me.” Steven stutters while making his way over to her his hands out placatingly, but Theresa is having none of it. She jerks away from his open arms and makes for the door.

“You fucking asshole! You made me the other fucking woman!” She screeches as she stomps toward the front door. Just as she is about to step over the grocery bags still lying on the floor, she turns to me.

“Mrya is it, he told me you knew about me. I had no idea you didn’t know we were seeing each other. You deserve better than this fucking asshole. No, we deserve better than this fucking asshole. I’m sorry, I really am.” She says remorsefully as she steps over the groceries. I can hear her stilettos stomping down the hallway away from our apartment. As soon as I can’t hear her steps any longer, I turn to face Steven.

“Thanks a lot, you just ruined everything for me.” Steven shouts at me and I blink at him once, twice, three times thinking I misheard him.

I stare at him trying to figure out where everything went wrong with us. Tears start to sting my eyes as I think about all the long hours I’ve toiled away for this man. About all the money my grandmother left me, that I wasted him so he could become a lawyer. Hundreds of thousands of dollars to support him and his dream and he has the audacity to stand there and say I’ve ruined his life. Something snaps inside me, I don’t know what it is, but I can feel my emotions shutting down on me one by one, like my heart is refusing to let me be hurt anymore.

“Get out.” I say softly to him as I turn my back on him and walk toward the remaining grocery bags.

“Ha! That's rich Myra. You can’t kick me out.” He shouts from our bedroom, and I hear some rustling coming from that direction, no not our bedroom, my bedroom now. I’ll need to bleach all the bedding before I sleep on it again or maybe I should just burn it and save myself the hassle I think as I set the bags on the floor in the kitchen.