She’s also known to me as “Evil Bitch”
I honestly have never met or spoken to her. Someday I will (threat or promise…either works). Yet, the trauma she has added to my life is massive.
She’s 49 (will be 50 this year). She is petite, dark wavy brown hair, brown eyes. She’s married (happily? He says she is…), has two grown sons (early mid twenties). She likes bike riding (I’ll explain later). She likes to travel. She lives in the bordering state. She and her husband buy homes and flips them.
How do I know all this? Some from my husband, other (her physical appearance) from her Facebook profile photo (yet, it’s a locked account), and others from web searches. I became really good at my own personal investigation.
Her real name begins with a “K” but since that first month of trolling through my mobile phone bill, I figured out you can replace phone #s with names for quick viewing. Her phone number was replaced with EVIL BITCH. It stands out and is easy to spot.
I really don’t think she’s evil, but selfish and deceitful. I can say those things because that is what I was when I had my affair. You are SELFISH and DECEITFUL. Some are other things, too. I’ll reserve my judgement when I meet her.
And, the kicker…amongst all these characteristics, descriptions and opinions…SHE WORKS FOR MY HUSBAND.
Yup, I get to trigger each and every day he goes to work. Each and every time she texts him if she’s late or if he is late, etc. Oh yeah — the fun just keeps happening for the last:
- 3 months, 3 weeks, 4 days, 23 Hours, and 43 Minutes
- Total Days:117.988194444444
- Total Weeks:16.8554563492063
- Total Hours:2831.71666666667
- Total Minutes:169903
- Total Seconds:10194180
(I found a great website to obsess with that calculates between dates): http://michaelkappel.com/Dates.aspx
My husband said he’d find a new job, but he loves his job and he’s 50 years old and frankly, economic times are tough for a 50-year-old to find another (this is my inner dialog, not that I really agree with it).
I am not holding my breath. Actually, I’m waiting for the other shoe to fall. Perhaps I’ll have a STI? Perhaps she’ll want to get back together with him? Perhaps he will?
I just don’t know. I just don’t know when something bad will happen (who does, I realize this…), but waiting for the next kick in the teeth is not fun. It’s hell.