What Happens When…

“What’s wrong?” I asked. He looked up from the table, moments before chipping away at the fake wood with his nails. I fought down a smile. “How’s Kimberly?” I asked switching topics as I sipped away my coffee. 

He didn’t answer. I continued to drink nonchalantly. “Alright, what did you do to me?” He finally asked.  

I looked over in surprise. “Why Matt, whatever do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. You found out about the affair. Fine. But you chose to stay,” I nodded in agreement to all the above. “But ever since then… I haven’t…” he trailed off. I raised an eyebrow as encouragement. “You know!” He snapped. “I can’t get “it” up. What did you do to me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I set aside my drink and folded my fingers. “I haven’t done anything.”

“You’re a liar,” He spat. “It started after you found out. Of course it’s your fault.”

“Now Matt, with that sort of attitude we will never move on and grow as a couple.” Standing, I walked around the table pausing at his shoulder. “But really, isn’t this only fair? You cheated on me and now it’s like God himself is punishing you, preventing you from ever doing something like that again.” I smiled, patted his shoulder, and left the room.

Hurrying down the hall to the bedroom we still shared I rooted through the bottom drawer of the dresser. Near the back my fingers met a small vial. I smiled to myself. After discovering the love of my life cheated on me, I was of course distraught. “Lift something, wax something, have something peeled,” he told me. “Deal with it.” Deal with it I tried, and failed. Eventually I decided the only way I would ever feel better was to take the revenge route. But how? A little research through the deepest and darkest recesses of the internet revealed the answer to me readily (at quite the reasonable shipping price to boot).  

“Chemical Castration”. There was a surprising amount of information to be found on the topic. Typically it’s reserved for pedophiles: those who truthfully feel they can’t control their urges. That almost perfectly fit my situation. She was younger than me (by six months) and he just couldn’t control his urges.  

It had was enough. A small needle at just the right moment could never be detected. It’s not my fault he was too stupid to figure it out; even more-so that he would continue to stay when he suspected foul-play. 

I stayed, and would continue to stay as long as the revenge business continued to be this fun. Vengeance was still mine. 


Paul dressed to kill. He’d taken careful consideration to his looks that night before leaving his apartment and felt like strolling a red carpet. Destined for the clubs of downtown he whistled in the car bobbing his head to the peppy beat of his current favorite tune. He felt so happy! There was no other way to describe it.


Since breaking it off with his long-time girlfriend, Emily, he found sitting still gave him hives. But spending time with friends didn’t sound quite right either. He wanted to be a lone wolf that evening hunting for prey. Walking through the front door of the closest stop he surveyed his grounds. He noticed the bartender running back and forth between different singles and groups like it was going out of style. He smiled to himself and began wading through the crowd towards his first drink of the night.


He paid little attention to the flashing faces before his eyes, but one in particular caught his attention. His breath caught in his throat as he lost all train of thought. Wearing an extravagant dress she swayed her hips and hair glowing like the sun itself beneath the wild strobe lights. He gaped at her as others shoved past him on their way to this and that. The song switched tempo and she slinked away, strutting her long legs towards the bar.


She passed right in front of him. His breathing stopped completely. Not because her beauty doubled up close but because he recognized her. Emily – his ex-girlfriend of two weeks. She didn’t notice him at all. He watched her hold up two fingers as she ordered. Just as she turned from the counter he jumped to her side. “Emily?” He asked in a shocked tone.


She first looked surprised then coy. “Jonathan,” She said just above the music.


“Wow,” He said, honestly in awe. “Long time no see. I almost didn’t recognize you!”


She smiled sweetly and nodded. “I’m glad you took notice.”


“Why the sudden change?” His voice trembled over the inquiry as he looked her up and down.


“Oh you know,” She flipped her hair, so foreign worn down and styled. “I just wanted a change.”


“I guess…” He scratched his head. Confusion clouded his judgment as he processed the figure before him. He found himself oddly attracted once more to the girl only a few days before he swore he no longer held affections for. “Well it’s good to see you!” He motioned for a hug. Emily stood unmoving. He leaned back into his own space undeterred. He decided to take a leap and a stab. “Did you want to dance?” He motioned to where she’d come from a mere hop and a skip away.


“You know,” She looked to the dance floor then back at him. “I would rather not.” She held up the drinks in her hands.


“Oh,” He nodded. “Your new boyfriend?”


“No,” She corrected him. “It’s just that I wouldn’t dance with you if you were the last man on earth with legs. Maybe even without legs. But hey! Have fun going stag.” She batted her eyes and walked away leaving him hollow beneath the dim lights of freedom.      


“How dare you look at another woman!” I screamed, chucking a vase across the room. He ducked in anticipation; too bad that wasn’t what I’d aimed for. “Take em’ out at the knees” my mother had always said. Who knew she would be right? Stomping up to the collapsed man I sent a thank you to my past self who’d decided to wear stilettos today. Mercilessly I brought my heel down onto his shoulder. His gasp of pain made me smile in a primal way.


“Emily,” He choked. “It’s not like that—”


I brought my heel down again and again until my anger subsided. He was fine, though his left side might me numb and look like ground beef for a while. Brushing off my dress I looked down on the pathetic creature I had, up until then, considered my love. “Stupid boy,” I hissed. “Don’t consider me your fool. When will you realize that no other woman can give you what I can? Grow up!” One last kick to the gut, this one with all my strength. Satisfied I’d gotten my point across I left without much fuss for my hair appointment. Surely I would need to look my best while on the prowl for another man.