To be unpublished soon and rewritten!
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Warning: Explicit Content. Please read with caution.
After the heated discussion with Derek, Victoria grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniels from the kitchen and retreated to the bathroom wanting to be alone. It was there that she heard David's car wheel spinning out of the driveway, the sound of his tyres and loud heavy metal music thrashing in her ears as he screeched off down the road in a fit of rage. She presumed he'd gone off to the pub to go get slaughtered and probably find some girl to hook up with for the night, like he always did when they just had a fight.
She felt angry with herself for saying the things she said, because of Derek being there, in fear of him running to his wife and telling her about what he'd just seen.
But if she was being honest with herself, she loved having David stay with them. They had been sleeping together, on-off for about a year now and she could honestly say that it had been hands down the best sex she'd ever had in her life.
For a woman in her mid-forties with a history of failed marriages, a fresh-faced, twenty-something man by her side made her feel like a young woman still in the prime of her life again. To her, it wasn't just about participating in no-strings-attached sexual intercourse as many times as she wanted; whenever she wanted. It was the thrill and excitement he brought in her life.
She loved walking around with him at places Edward had been too proud to set foot in; hand in hand, seeing every woman of all ages, staring at them wherever they went with a with a mixture of disgust, envy, awe and even anger on their faces. She loved sneaking around the house with him or when her husband was away on business meetings, doing it, just about everywhere in the house with him, christening every room.
Even though they weren't exactly exclusive, as their encounters had always been purely physical, she loved being seen next to him. Of course, it didn't help that he was an animal in bed and she couldn't get enough of him in bed. If Derek hadn't walked in on them, when he did, she would have let him have her at least more than two, three times.
Leaning across the basin, almost knocking the bottle of whiskey over on the floor, Victoria felt a pang of nausea hit her even harder than it had in days. Stunned she almost toppled over, but she managed to regain her composure for she was able to grab the towel rack and pulled herself back up.
She noticed she'd been having trouble eating. Just the smell of food made her feel nauseated. This feeling started a few days ago, but today it was the worst it had ever it have ever been.
Grabbing her phone off the basin where she'd left it, this morning, she tapped open her calendar on her phone, swiped back a month and began counting the days trying to work something out in her head.
She froze on the spot, at the realisation that her period was in fact two weeks late. How could this be? This can't be right. And then it hit her: was she pregnant?
