ANNY and the roses

Their marriage was a happy one. It had red lace, satin sheets, hot fantasies, and at least once-a-day bed spins and whirls. Anny worked part-time and studied at night. Chico had a temporary position with a politician trying for

IMG_6639re-election. He convinced her it was too early for children and what such a decision schlepped around. So, during the week, she worked as an elementary school teacher and attended college classes, while he rode their car to the most forsaken corners of the town as a junior representative secretary. Weekends were paradise when he did not have any unexpected night meetings with the party members.
She was happy because he had always been “the perfect” husband. Her mother praised him to friends and relatives.
As elections were getting closer, Anny started having more time for studying after hours and on weekends. He complained he hardly ever had any time and strength for “fun and games” with her. She asked the family doctor for some special vitamin supplement since Chico was always tired and worn out he went to bed, turned to the other side…and slept. He had not even noticed, on Valentines Day, the tiny pirate satin costume she was wearing, despite the set of Victoria Secret’s body lotion and soap had bought her and left on the coffee table. He had arrived home late. Too late for the romantic dinner she had made reservations two months before. She took off the pirate stuff and put on her oldest nightgown. While snored, she tried to sum up the number of their lovemaking in the last months: twice! And had she had to grade them, he would have got a failing grade, for both had been as if he were in the automatic pilot just doing his duty, and besides too fast for her own pace.

Why was he so tired? Was he ill? The only thing was that he continued to abhor the use of condoms since he had told her he would not wear them because they interfered with their togetherness. She did not fear pregnancy for she was on the pill. “Well”, she thought,”everything is still the same. He must be exhausted. That’s it.”
And weeks went on. It was International Women’s Day. At 10:30 pm. he picked her up at college with a huge bouquet of new fresh red roses. They kissed, and she was overwhelmed with the gift. When they got home, he kissed her again and told her he would be back soon for he had to take his boss to the airport. She was already having breakfast and ready to leave for her job when he arrived, and explained, “You will not guess what happened. The fog was so thick the plane could not take off. You should see the airport filled with people! He left 30 minutes ago. I tried to call you, but there was no service. Darling, I am truly sorry!”
She left home but did not go to work. She called sick, instead, and went to his office. When she got there, the secretary talked about the roses. “What roses?” Anny asked. “Well,” said the girl,”the beautiful red roses he was carrying early yesterday morning.” “Yesterday morning?” she replied. “Yes, I have never seen a lovelier bouquet,” stressed the office secretary.
Anny thought about everything in her marriage, and in seconds she knew it. She told the girl the roses she had seen were not hers. And Anny was sure the secretary knew something fishy was happening around the office. After almost one hour of questioning, she handed Anny the address and a name: a place in the red light district. She took the secretary, and both went to the place: it was a girlie dancing club. She rang the rusty bell and yelled, “PITTY! COME RIGHT HERE, PITTY!” A skinny, disheveled figure appeared. “Do you know Chico?”, Anny asked Pitty. She said, “Yes, sort of…”
Anny took her by the frazzled hair and pull it until ringlets covered her hands. Then she pushed her to the floor and spanked her. The other ‘dancers’ went outside and took Pitty inside the shack. Anny went back to the car as if nothing had happened while the secretary was white as a ghost.
She threw her husband stuff into the garbage bin, changed the door locks, closed the house, turned the television to the maximum volume, took a shower, and cried until sleep took over her.
A week later, she decided to clean the house. When she was dusting the curtain poles, a heavy shower of condoms of all hues and kinds fell on the carpet.
She met him again in court. He did not mean a thing for her anymore. When, today, she remembers him there are just memories of hurt, lies, and betrayal.

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