“He was always distracted. I even thought ... there might be another woman.”Four, actually. I’d been obsessed with my daughters for years as the... matured. But, still, she cheated on me. Anger swelled in me. Hurt, betrayed. More tears fell down her cheeks as my hand clenched. What to do about her?And about the man who fucked my wife?“Go, shower!” I snarled. “Wash that whore cunt clean of his spunk then get your ass back in here!”My thoughts itched. She bolted out of the room. The bathroom door. She stared at the empty bottles. They seemed to be everywhere; crowding the table, lying around her bed, and even scattered throughout the bathroom. Stiff-limbed and groaning she went picking them up and dumping them in the large trash bag she dragged behind her. The clanging of the glass hurt her head and made her wince.It was afternoon; she’d lost an entire weekend.After working through her impressive wine collection, she’d attacked whatever liquor she had, ending with beer. She’d made sure. More

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