Hating the Boss

by Kristen Granata

I’d reached my breaking point. Now I know why people call it that. You bend so much that you eventually break in half. Two parts: Who you once were, and the angry, resentful person you’ve become.

Ding, dong, the dick is gone!

out. I’m an emotional eater. I eat my feelings, and unfortunately, they aren’t fat free. They taste a lot like Ben and Jerry’s.

I’m not with stupid anymore. Divorced AF. Ditched the dick. Unhitched. Just divorced. Legally single.

You don’t realize how important a person’s laugh is until you’re on a date with someone whose laugh sounds like a dying mongoose.

Resentment will do that to you. It trickles into your blood like a poison, slow at first, until it’s coursing through your veins. It overrides every other feeling you have, making it impossible to see through the blurriness of anger and disappointment.

If a guy’s intimidated by a woman’s brain, it means he’s insecure about his own intelligence. Also, he probably has a small pecker.

Maybe the hurt in me sensed the hurt within her.

You might be embarrassed of your muffin top, but the truth is: A man doesn’t notice what’s between your tits and your pussy when you’re naked and his dick is about to be inside you.

“What do you mean you can’t remember?” I rub my eyes with the heels of my hands. “It’s like I have whore amnesia!”

“You did what we all do in a marriage. We want to please our husbands. We want to give them everything because we love them and we want them to be happy with us. But our husbands are supposed to give back. It’s supposed to be an equal exchange of give and take.”

I make a new promise to myself: If I ever lay eyes on Raegan again, I’m going to make her pay.

“Yes, Mrs. Zuckerman. I am positive it was your son who smeared feces on the bathroom walls.” There’s a sentence I never thought I’d say.

Allow me to reiterate that: The kid pulled his pants down in the middle of the classroom and took a dump on the tile floor the way a bear shits in the woods. And then I stepped in it. You’re probably wondering what I did after that. I laughed. I laughed.

No one is safe. Kids these days are nuts.

What if she never gives up the ring? What if it’s gone forever? What if … What if she really didn’t steal it?

She’s learning Sign Language for my grandfather.

“Old ladies love me.” “Probably because they’re senile.” “What happened to our truce? I gave your shoe back. You’re supposed to be nice to me.”

I might not know why I’m here, but I know one thing for certain: I’ll stay here and hold her for as long as she needs me to.

Why don’t we ever run into our exes when we have our hair and make-up done? It’s like one of the laws of physics: An object that looks like trash shall run into everyone she knows while she looks like trash.

“Baby, did you get the cranberry sauce for Grandma?”

“This is Andrew?” He swipes his bottom lip with his thumb as he appraises Andrew, much like Ashley had scrutinized me moments ago. “You’re a fucking disgrace.”

“I can’t imagine anyone treating you like that. It makes me crazy.”

If Raegan’s looking for a match, I’m going to give her one. I can’t let Raegan go on a date. Not unless it’s with me.

Holy fuck, that just happened.

“I need to hear you say it, Rae.” My lips graze over hers as I whisper, “Tell me you want me.” She opens her eyes and spears me with them. Seconds tick by before she speaks, a silent debate passing between us. “I want you, Jaxon.”

Girls physically cannot keep a secret from their besties. It’s a gene that’s missing from our DNA.

“It’s a genetic flaw.” He laughs and puts his hands around my waist, sliding me across the couch and onto his lap. “You are anything but flawed, Ms. Donahue.”

“Well, if you recall, I’m partial to begging.” Jaxon pushes me off his lap. He lowers himself onto the floor, crunching popcorn under his knees, all the while wearing that delicious smirk on his face.

The ring thief might not have stolen the ring after all, but she did steal my heart.

THE END