There was no silent second of shock, no delay of any kind. She ran instantly into the bathroom and yanked Matt up by his hair. “Get out!” she screamed. “Get the hell out of my house!”

His erect penis was bouncing around comically and the woman was frantically trying to recover her clothes, but Laurie did not let up. She dug her fingers into Matt’s upper arm and shoved him as hard as she could into the hall, picking his clothes up from the floor next to the tub and throwing them after him. She did not touch the woman but continued screaming all the while, anguished, angry invectives that included both of them. The woman, pants and T-shirt now on, ran past her out of the bathroom clutching panties, bra, nylons, shoes.

Laurie was crying. She didn’t want to, wanted to wait until after they were gone, wanted to appear only mad, not hurt, but she couldn’t help it and she was sobbing as she screamed, “Fuck you, Matt! Fuck you, you pervert! Fuck you!”

Still only half-dressed, the two of them ran down the hallway, through the living room, out the front door. They did not bother to close the door behind them, and Laurie caught a glimpse of Matt scrambling into his car, fumbling with his keys, before she slammed the door shut and dead-bolted it.

She slumped to the floor, leaning against the hard cold wood. It had all happened so fast. One minute she’d been happy, excited, ready to relax with Matt and begin her weekend; the next, her entire life had been turned upside down and it felt as though her guts had been scooped out as she realized that the man she loved had betrayed her. She hadn’t had time to think, to absorb the shock, she’d simply been thrown in the water and forced to swim.

She sat there, crying, and after a while the tears stopped. The hurt had not lessened, but it had stabilized. It was no longer an intruder but a part of her, and she could deal with it. She stood, wiped her eyes, wiped her face, and went back down the hall to the bathroom. Walking over to the toilet, she grimaced with distaste and flushed, almost gagging.

She washed her hands in the sink, scrubbing hard, then walked into the bedroom, slumping onto the bed. She was still shaking with anger, but beneath the anger she felt hollow, empty. Her thoughts were rushing a mile a minute, scenes from the past months with Matt running through her head as she tried to determine whether she should have seen this coming.

She sometimes thought it would be easier if she were a lesbian. At least she understood the female mindset. And she wouldn’t have to put up with asshole men who tried to tell her what to think and how to act and then betrayed her.