Awe Crap

Awe Crap

 By Reade Green

 Tracy is a beautiful girl. And I mean she is so beautiful that I can not compare her to anything else in the world, except for maybe my wife, Rachel. And I care for her very much. She's a friend of my wife's and we met at a holiday party, and that's how things started. Things have been kind of rocky between me and my wife. The spark we had when we first started dating, and that we had into the first few years of our marriage, it just started to vanish. But Tracy and I have been seeing each other in secret for the past several months and things have never been better.. I've been trying my hardest to make sure Rachel didn't find out about us and I've been staying late at the office every once in a while, telling Rachel that I'm working to get the promotion that I’m up for getting, which in part was true, but after I'd finish up at work, I would go and meet up with Tracy at a motel room that I would pay for in cash. Things have been great between us these past few months, but something changed in her. She began to ask me questions I honestly couldn't answer. At one point in time, Rachel was away at a conference for the weekend and our kids were camping with their friends, so, we met at our usual place. Later that night, after having by far what was the best sex of my life- better than any time Rachel and I made love- we just laid there. Tracy laid her head on my chest in the cutest way possible. It made her look like a baby who is fast asleep. She also laid her hand on me and moved her index finger in a figure-eight motion in the most seductive way possible. “Matthew?” she asked with a tone I couldn't quite understand. “Yeah Tracy, what's up?” “Where is this going?” I was caught off guard by her question and I didn't really know what to say. “What do you mean?” She then looked up at me with her big, beautiful, hazel eyes, she asked again with more precise words, “Where is this going? What direction are we going in?” Even though I knew what she was talking about, I tried to play it dumb. “I don't really understand your question.” She then told me flat out, “Where is this relationship going? How come you haven't told Rachel about us and left her as I asked you to? I mean, don't you care about me?” “Of course I care about you Trace. There's no doubt about that.” I told her, trying to sound sincere. She came back saying, “Then why haven't you left your wife as I asked you, huh? Why not?”. “It's complicated. You know I care about you, but I care about Rachel just as much, dropping everything and leaving someone is not as easy as you would think it to be, especially when you’ve been with them for so many years.” I told her that to try and steer her away from asking more questions. “If you care about your wife so much, then why are you with me and not her?”, she said, her voice getting louder. She got up out of bed and began to put on her clothes, I sat there trying to think of an answer, but all I could muster up was, “Because I just needed a release.” When I realized what I had said, I tried to apologize, but she cut me off. “So is that all I am to you? A release. A sexual release? I care about you, Matt. More than I have cared about anyone since my husband Donny died. I even told you that I loved you and I do, with all of my heart. I think of you as my companion someone that I can trust, that I love. But obviously, I'm just a fling, a harlot, a piece of meat to you aren't I?!” By her saying that I got angry too. Angrier than I've ever been. But then she continued with her rant, “I bet you are thinking of hitting yourself, aren't you. Telling yourself how much of an idiot you are. Better you than me. Honestly, I'd like to hit you myself. But I am not going to. I am not the kind of girl that resolves conflicts by using her fists. I am the kind of girl that takes care of things in other manners.” I was angry by her saying that. Thinking back on it now, I kind of wish I had hit myself because things would be different. She said the sentence with the calmest voice since our fight began, but I thought nothing of it. Tracy walked over to her purse and started rummaging around inside. At first, I didn't know what she was looking for, then my eyes widened as soon as I remembered something. She kept it in her purse for personal reasons. I began to panic and I started to move slowly. I got up and out of the bed as cautiously as I could and began to put on my pants. As soon as I got them on, behind me I heard her say to me, “Where do you think you're going?” I didn't want to turn around, but being the stereotypical dumbass that I was, I did anyway. I turned around to see the sight of her holding a 9mm pistol. She was holding the gun, looking at it, admiring it. Then she put her right thumb on the hammer and pulled it back and it made a clicking noise. She pointed the gun at me, and she had this look in her eyes. The look, of someone who has just lost everything. “Tracy. Put the gun down. Please, let's talk about this.” I told her knowing full well that she wasn't going to let that happen. “I'm done talking. You've messed with my heart for the last time you bastard. If I can't have you, neither can Rachel, or your kids, or anybody else” and with those words coming out of her mouth, she pulled the trigger, and the last words I would ever say were “Awe Crap.”