Grabbing my luggage from the carousel, I winced as the stitches pulled on my still tender flesh.
I’d told Mike that I was going to stay with my sister for a few weeks while I thought over the state of our marriage. Things had been going well until he hit me with the bombshell that he’d been having an affair with his secretary for the past nine months.
His secretary of all people! It was beyond a cliché and I’d been royally pissed at him for even looking at another woman. His vicious rejoinder to my screaming had been to tell me that I’d let myself go since we’d married twelve years previously.
I’d slapped him, packed a suitcase and left for my sister’s house in Toronto and hadn’t spoken to him since. He’d made a couple of lame attempts at trying to contact me but I’d spurned him at every opportunity.
On that first day at Lucy’s, I looked at myself fresh from the shower and could see Mike’s point. Perhaps I had let myself go a little. What was once young nubile flesh was nothing more than sagging flaps of fatty skin. My boobs no longer able to defy gravity due to their heft, they hung limply from my chest and came to rest on my rounded stomach.
Crying would get me nowhere and dieting would take too long. I needed a quick fix if I had any chance of holding on to my husband. Deciding that I could give him what he wanted while also exacting a little revenge, I found the most expensive plastic surgeon in the whole of Canada, paying him enough money to make me a completely different woman.
As the surgeon looked at my naked body, I felt as if I were a worn out old car being assessed by a mechanic and I knew that it would take more than a quick oil change and polish to make me look like a shiny new model. The surgeon walked round me repeatedly and made what I hoped were positive noises.
By the time he’d finished with me I had new teeth, a facelift, a new pair of breasts, liposuction and a designer vagina that Gucci would have been proud of. It hurt like hell when I came round from the anaesthetic but knowing that I’d just blown a fair chunk of Mike’s retirement fund made the pain a whole lot easier to bear.
That blonde bitch of his be damned, I’d return home so tight and nubile that Mike would drop her in an instant. He’d have no choice but to stay with me, his newly-sculpted goddess.
Opening the door of our house, I felt anger surge through me, hearing the tell-tale sounds of two people going at it like rabbits. Grabbing a kitchen knife, I stormed into the bedroom and caught my weasel of a husband banging his secretary like there was no tomorrow.
“Notice anything different about me?” I asked, ready to do some re-sculpting of my own….
Written in response to Thain in Vain’s Week 26 prompt: ”Do you notice anything different about me?”