Zena’s Journey Novel – Standing there for several seconds, I didn’t say a word. My best friend Ami was in my bedroom. She was standing undressed, right along with my husband Jeff. “Ami, you bimbo!” I yelled at her. “You’re always chasing after that next big, mind-blowing climax. You are such a nasty hooker. I always thought you were a dirty hooker.” Then I looked directly at my husband. “And you. I trusted you, Jeff. We didn’t have a wedding at some cheap motel in the desert while drunk. We were engaged first, you lying, cheating wanker!” I yelled at him, hitting him on the chest.
ZENA The drive home only took about twenty minutes or so. Before she knew it, she was sitting in her driveway, right next to their eight-bedroom house in the town of Wells, Massachusetts. She smiled to herself as she exited her car and headed for the house. She inserted the key into the front door and wondered if Jeff was at home. She hoped this would be a good surprise for him and that he’d appreciate her bringing lunch home for him. He seemed so distant lately, and Zena wanted to do all she could to improve her relationship with her husband. As she entered the house, she looked around the spacious living room and realized that Jeff might still be upstairs, although it was pretty late for him to be still asleep.
She realized that he could either still be in bed or he went out to grab something to eat at Sal’s Pizza, a local mom-and-pop restaurant that was located a few miles away. Just in case he didn’t run out to get food, Zena continued her earlier plan to surprise her husband with the delicious French food. She grabbed one of the shopping bags from Laduree; if Jeff didn’t feel like getting out of bed, she would entice him with the delicious French food. She proceeded to climb the stairs and headed for the main bedroom. From outside the room, everything seemed quiet and still, and once again, she had to wonder if Jeff was even home at all. Upon opening the door and entering their bedroom, Zena’s mouth flew open in shock.
She realized right away that not only was her husband at home, but he was not there by himself. Her smile was soon replaced with a look of devastation, and her whole world came crashing down. She suddenly felt shocked, hurt, and humiliated. She felt foolish for all the years she’d spent taking care of her husband, and she felt like a complete idiot for having planned a romantic lunch for the two of them. What is this? — ZENA In our bedroom, I noticed that clothes and shoes were strewn everywhere, which was normally neat as a pin. I looked over and saw that Jeff was standing by the wall near our queen-sized bed with his back facing the door. I noticed his tan pants and dark blue briefs were down to his ankles, and he was shirtless.
His short, curly brown hair was a sweaty mess, and a pair of familiar long and creamy white female legs were firmly wrapped around his hips. His butt cheeks flexed as he thrust in and out of the body attached to the long white legs. The room smelled funny. I suddenly felt cheated, not just cheated on. I was loyal to Jeff and I was dedicated to taking care of him. How could he go and do something like this to me, and with her of all people? Really? I noticed that my best friend Ami’s hands were resting on Jeff’s shoulders. Her dyed red hair was all over the place, and her nails dug into Jeff’s mocha-colored skin underneath them. Ami was breathing and panting heavily as Jeff slammed into her. Her back was pressed into the wall, and neither seemed to notice the bedroom door opening with me standing there holding the bag of food from Laduree.
Standing there for several seconds, I didn’t say a word. I just watched them as I witnessed the scene play out before me, and then reality hit hard. I wondered how long I would have to stand there before one of them would notice my presence. My husband had been cheating on me and in my own home! “You stupid idiot,” I said to him in a quiet voice. I wanted to yell the words at Jeff, but they came out weak. Jeff and Ami seemed frozen in place, and they no longer carried on like two passionate lovers caught up in a lust-filled moment, or whatever. “Oh no!” was the first thing that came out of Jeff’s mouth as he dropped Ami’s legs to the floor.
I noticed his voice was laced with panic, and I felt like it should be. Jeff turned to face me, and my expressive brown eyes met his scared, beady ones. My gaze cut over to Ami, who stood there staring at me without saying a word. I felt even more betrayed by my best friend, who was more like a sister to me. It wasn’t, though. This was very real. “Ami, you bimbo!” I yelled at her. That was all I was able to say. I wanted to get as far away from them and as soon as possible, but suddenly the Peche Melba was in my hand. I flung it across the room at Ami, not realizing yet what I was doing. I felt like I was in a trance-like state of confusion.
The ice cream dessert hit my now former best friend in the face, eyes, and hair, making her appear even more disheveled. “Zena, what is wrong with you?” Ami shrieked at me, treating me as if I were the outsider in Ami’s bedroom rather than the other way around. “What is this stuff?” “It’s Peche Melba,” I calmly told her, paying no attention to the fact that Ami was upset with me for throwing the sticky dessert at her. I didn’t care at that point. Ami was in my home and in my bedroom. She was standing undressed, right along with Jeff. “It’s wet and sticky, and you and I both know that it’s the story of your life, don’t we? I mean…you’re always chasing after that next big, mind-blowing climax. You are such a nasty hooker.
I always thought you were a dirty hooker.” Ami didn’t say anything. She just glared at me with a look of contempt on her face. I reached into the bag I was still holding, pulled out the plate of Jeff’s Steak Daire, and opened the lid. Then I looked directly at my husband. “And you…I trusted you, Jeff. We didn’t have a wedding at some cheap motel in the desert while drunk. We were engaged first, you lying, cheating wanker!” I yelled at him before hurling the plate of hot food at him, hitting him on the chest, stomach and below the waist.