Free Beauty From Love by Georgia Cates

time.”
    She sits in the chair next to me. “I noticed Emma parading you around so I’m guessing you are her new sister-in-law, Laurelyn.”
    This woman knows my name but that’s not surprising since everyone at this party is aware that I’m Jack Henry’s wife. Still, it’s unnerving. “That would be me.”
    “Your accent is adorable.”
    “Thanks. It sort of sticks out like a sore thumb. I’ve tried to tame it but I’m afraid it’s no use.”
    “Don’t. You sound like a sweet little country girl,” she laughs. “You shouldn’t change it to suit your husband.”
    It’s true that I consider myself a country girl but I’m not sure I like this woman’s tone as she tells me I sound like one. I believe she’s trying to insult me—but in a catty way—as though I’m too stupid to see it. And I didn’t mention anything about changing my accent because Jack Henry didn’t like it. “My husband loves my accent and would never want me to speak differently.”
    “You’re the one who said you were trying to change it.”
    I know exactly what I said and it wasn’t that my husband didn’t like me the way I was.
    I don’t know this woman and I have no desire to argue with a complete stranger. I came outside to get a break from empty conversations and I don’t intend on having another with her, especially if she’s going to put words I didn’t say into my mouth.
    “If you’ll excuse me.” I get up to leave. “Jack Henry will be looking for me.”
    “Oh, look. You’re right. Here comes Jack now.” She emphasizes his name—as if she’s correcting me about what I should call my own husband—and I’m taken aback by her nasty tone and sudden change of demeanor. Who is she? Did I get her name? I don’t think so.
    She walks toward Jack Henry and goes up on her tiptoes. I know what’s she’s going to do because I can see it coming a mile away. She intends to kiss him on the mouth. “Hello, Jack.”
    The bitch is quick, but he’s faster as he turns his head and grabs her shoulders to push her away. “No, Lana.” He sounds as though he’s scolding a child. Or a dog—so the term bitch would be accurate.
    Disappointment is etched all over her face. His reaction clearly isn’t what she’d hoped for but then she breaks into a sneer directed at me. “I’m Lana and I can see from your expression that you’ve heard of me.”
    “Don’t,” Jack Henry warns her.
    “Don’t what, Jack? Tell her we were a thing and we used to fuck like champions?” She’s smirking, trying to get under my skin—and as badly as I hate to admit it, it’s working.
    Fuck like champions. Perfect. My husband used the same terminology with me that he once used with this woman—the one who attempted to trap him into marriage by getting pregnant.
    I’m caught off guard, my mind completely blank, so I don’t have a response for my husband’s former lover. I don’t want her to know what an impact she has had on Jack Henry’s life or how she has shaped who he became even years after they broke up. As much as I despise it, she has had a huge influence over my husband and the thought of her taking any kind of pleasure from knowing that sickens me.
    What does she want? She didn’t follow me outside for no reason. “Lana. I’m aware of your prior relationship with my husband and I’m also privy to knowing why he ended things with you. He, nor I, has any interest in reminiscing about the manner in which you once fucked. I’m his wife—by choice, not force. That means he fucks me—and only me—like a champion. And he enjoys the hell out of it when he does, which is often.” I’m shaking on the inside. My upper lip may even be quivering. “Does that cover it, or do you need further discouragement?”
    She looks at Jack Henry and reaches for his hand. “There’s no possible way you could be happy with her. If you’ll think about it, you’ll remember how good we were together.”
    Un-fucking-believable!
    Jack Henry