Free Dancing With Devia by Viveca Benoir Page A

over again.
    “No, don’t cry dear.
You must be strong.
You have to do this.
And remember, everything he says will sound plausible. That will be because he is lying again.
He will have had time to make up a story…so don’t let him off the hook.”
    “Yes.
Yes, I will remember. I won’t forget.
Thank you, Devia.
I really appreciate it.”
    “Good.
If you need me, just call me, ok?” She handed her a piece of paper on which she had just written her home number.
It matched the number on the envelope she had just hidden in his sock drawer.
It wouldn’t take much to work it out once the doubt set in.
She knew that Crystal would go through everything that Julian owned; his clothes, his jacket, his car, his phone; searching for evidence to back up her suspicions.
She knew too, that once the shock wore off, a suspicious wife was a better detective than anyone, even a CSI forensic team, if she suspected her husband.
The house would be turned over and everything searched, high and low until evidence, whether real or imaginary, was found.
    “Yes, thanks Devia.
You are a true friend.
I can’t thank you enough.”
    “Aw, come here.”  Devia hugged her tightly and smiled over her shoulder. She looked about the house at the furniture, and the pictures on the walls.
Soon, all that Crystal owned, would be hers.
    Devia wanted to skip all the way back to her car, but instead, walked confidently back and got in. She was about to drive off when she saw Julian driving down the road towards her car.  He was returning home, and she was leaving, not a moment too soon.
     
    ‘Mine,’ she thought; ‘he’s all mine and soon.’  She turned the key in the ignition and drove off.
Julian was just turning into his driveway as she turned the corner.
He never even saw her.
     
     

Chapter Five – Julian
 
    Julian turned into his drive and sat in the car for a moment before he got out.
He felt mentally and emotionally exhausted when he got home.
When he had left earlier, he had nowhere he needed, or wanted, to go.  So he had gone back to the marina to clean the boat.
He felt he needed to do something, because he couldn’t stay in the house.  Or watch his wife crying any more.
But, even there, he was pacing like a caged, stressed tiger.
Originally, he wasn’t going to do it until Friday, but he couldn’t bear the thought of Devia’s sickly strong perfume permeating the fabrics of his boat.
He wanted to burn the sheets she had been sleeping in.
     
    Eventually, he had no choice, but to go where he felt happiest.
Home.
     
    He put the key in the lock and let himself in.
Crystal looked at him angrily as he walked through the door and glowered at him.
He had never seen her look that angry before.
It was a total character change from earlier that morning and he was taken back.
He almost backed out and left, but he knew that whatever was going on, had to be resolved.
He wondered if it were a simple case of premenstrual tension.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t ask, as that was a danger zone for all men, when their women were upset.  If it was PMS, then she would go off like a volcano and he would be in the doghouse for stating the obvious. And if it weren’t, he would still be in the doghouse because it would put her in a mood because he had even suspected that and was calling her hormonal.
He felt that men could never win, from the moment they entered into a relationship with a woman.
Any relationship, was always going to be fraught with miscommunications about everything.  He was no different from all the men, and she was no different from all the women.
They just spoke two different languages, and as much as he tried to speak her language, he never could, unless he grew breasts and cut off his dick.
He was logical.  She was emotional.  And that was all there was to it.
    “Honey? You ok?”  He gingerly walked inside the house.
    “Ok?  You ask if I am ok?” She snapped at him.
    “Yeah