She glared, nursing her drink as she watched her husband dance like a fool.

This is why she didn't like going to these damnable clubs without someone else.

.. Someone like Robby.

Yes. That was appealing.

She smiled, leaning back in her chair as she waved a hand in the waiter's direction, "Another vodka stinger, please. Sir? Sir!"

"Yes, ma'am?" the boy stopped, looking to her.

She rolled her eyes, heaving a sigh, "Another vodka stinger!"

He nodded, "Yes, ma'am. Right away."

"'Bout time," she grumbled.

Now then.. Where was she? Ah, yes; Robby.

He was so... stimulating to remember. And think of.

She expelled a breath, taking the last sip of her drink.

She hadn't been kidding when she'd told him he was a terribly attractive man. And, yes, there was a very tangible part of her that wanted him. But.. She'd never cheat on Larry.

Not ever. She loved him.

It was just... hard sometimes- all marriages were- cause it felt like they had nothing in common and he always had work and he was away so many nights. And-

Did that slut just touch her husband?

Oh, no- no- no.

She growled, not waiting for her drink, and marched across the dance floor.


"Jo!" He pulled her against him, grabbing her ass to hold her tightly as he continued dancing wildly.

She pushed away from him, wearing a look of disgust as she shot a glare at the girl who'd dared touch him. "We're going home now, Larry."

"One more song," he begged, reaching for her again and grabbing her wrist.

She pursed her lips, "Now. Not one more song. Now." He ignored her, still thrashing about and waggling his hips. "Larry!" she snapped. "I said now!"

"C'mon, Joanne. Loosen up. Have some fun! Dance with me," he requested.

She narrowed her eyes, pushing at his chest when he tried to tug her closer. "I told you I only dance when you can touch. I refuse to make an ass out of myself because you can't handle your liquor," she hissed.

"So let's touch," he returned, pulling her against him again and letting his hands slide down to grip her ass.

She smacked his shoulder with her purse, barking, "I said we're going home!"

He sighed, obediently letting her lead him to the bar so he could pay before flagging their car, she climbing in to her usual side as he slid into the opposite side of the car. He scooted closer, tugging her against him and pressing a kiss behind her dangling earring.

"Stop it," she snapped.

"What's wrong with you?" he managed, his words still crisp despite his obvious – only to her, but still – intoxication.

"Why would watching you grope some baby child and be groped by her turn me on?" she returned, pushing at him again and scooting away so she was leaning against her window, leaning her forehead against the cool glass. "You know I hate that."

He reached, petting her thigh before squeezing her knee, "You know I'd never cheat on you, Jo."

That wasn't the point.

She turned to snap, "I don't care!"


"No!" she snapped. "Don't touch me, Larry. Stay on your side of the car."

He stretched a hand out, petting her hair affectionately, "Come on, Jo."

She crossed her arms, pursing her lips, "No, Larry. Don't touch me."

Their car pulled up to their apartment, she immediately climbing out of the car as Larry moved to reach for her again.


She went to the door of their apartment, impatiently tapping her foot, "Are you coming?"

He climbed out of the car, holding his arms out for her, "Not till you come give me a kiss."

Leaning against the railing, she dug through her purse, finding her keys and letting herself into the house and flicking the lock back into place before continuing up the stairs.

She wasn't playing games with him tonight.

And if he thought they were having sex tonight...

"J-Jo!" she heard the door, he thundering up the steps, "You locked me out? Jo, honey." He came up behind her as she took off her jewelry, putting it back in its case and sliding each ring over her knuckle. "Jo, honey; what's this about?"

She pulled her earrings out before moving away, "It's about me not wanting to be touched."


"Don't 'Jo' me," she snapped. "Just stay on your side of the bed tonight."

He came up behind her, curling his arms around her waist and kissing below her ear, "I love it when you're jealous, but isn't this taking it a little too far?"

She shrugged out of his grasp again, "I'm not jealous, Larry."

"Kiss me," he requested, his hands finding her hips and pulling her back against him as he kissed below her ear again.

"Kiss yourself," she hissed, turning in his grip to press against his chest and wrench away. "I'm putting on my nightgown and then going to sleep. Stay on your side of the bed tonight, Larry." She moved further away, disappearing into the bathroom and closing it with a resounding click.

She waited until she heard him bustling in the kitchen to start.

Very calmly, she went to the closet, pulled out her suitcase, and slowly began packing her various undergarments into the netted top pocket before moving on to her jewelry box. She put her rings on before putting her favorite, plain, dangling diamond earrings in. Surveying the remaining contents of the box, she shrugged before clicking it closed and going to the closet.

She let out a sigh, pushing Larry's various suit jackets, ties, and button-up shirts out of the way before beginning to load her clothing into the suitcase, hangers and all.

… One of the, admittedly few, problems with being rich was having too much stuff to pack up easily. Already she was leaving almost all her jewelry. And now... Well, the gowns could stay. The robe she should take. And bedclothes.

And everyday wear- which she seemed to have very little of, now that she was thinking about it. Mostly she seemed to be going to one of Larry's events or somewhere with their friends, all of which required dressy gowns or something similar. Her everyday clothes for lounging were usually her pajamas and robe, which she wore until she got ready for where ever it was Larry said they were going that night. She didn't own a single pair of jeans or sweatpants- the closest she had were her workout clothes for the gym.

Which reminded her- she should bring her gym bag and gym clothes. Honestly, there was no reason to let herself go.

Besides, she could pack her shoes and slippers in with her gym clothes and sneakers- no reason to get shoe and heel prints on her nice, black pants and tops. .. Even if she wouldn't be having anywhere to wear the nice, black pants or tops.

… Maybe she should think about introducing color into her everyday wardrobe. Hell, even her gym clothes were all dark.

But that was a decision and an issue for another day. She had to pack right now.

Returning her attention to her suitcase, she hung her gowns back up (she wouldn't have anywhere to wear them and they'd just get ruined in the suitcase) before properly packing her pajamas and two robes into her suitcase. She added several of her more plain blouses- even those had some ornamentation- and a couple pairs of her black, dress pants. Retrieving her gym bag from the back of the closet, she emptied its contents on the floor beside the closet. That done, she repacked her sneakers in the bag before adding several pairs of heels and a pair of black slippers, lining the bottom of the bag with them. Next she packed several sets of her gym clothes, socks and sports bras included, before zipping it shut and leaving it beside her suitcase.

So now she had gym clothes, shoes, underwear, pajamas, some 'everyday' clothes- Toiletries. That's what she still had to pack.

She unzipped the front pocket of her suitcase, carrying the unearthed toiletries bag to the bathroom before loading in her hair products, face creams and body lotions, toothbrush and toothpaste, body wash and loofah, and razor and shaving cream. She did a final sweep of the bathroom before adding her deodorant, brush, curlers, and hair dryer to her bags.

Sighing, she zipped up her suitcase, lowered it to the floor and stacked her gym bag on it before snatching her purse and starting for the kitchen where Larry was still getting ready to go to work.

He groaned when he saw her, shaking his head and speaking around the food in his mouth, "Jo, come on." How unbecoming.

"I'm leaving," she told him anyway, ignoring his sentiment and lowering the handle on her suitcase to lean it against the wall beside her as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Joanne, hunny, I just got called in early. I don't have time to do this with you right now," he sighed. "The new client is thinking of pulling out of the deal. I have to go in for damage control."

"I'm not stopping you," she told him, shrugging.

He closed his eyes, putting down the sandwich he'd been eating and wiping his hands. He swallowed the bite in his mouth, moving forward, "Jo, you know I love you. I don't want you to leave. And I'll happily beg you to stay when I get back. But I really have to go." He kissed her head, lightly spanking her as a goodbye. "You can leave the stuff in the hallway and I'll help you put it all away after I talk you out of leaving when I get back. I promise. I'm sure it must be heavy. Lemme get it." He took another bite of his sandwich before loading his pockets with his keys and wallet and stuffing his arms in his blazer. "I gotta go. I should be back before dinner. If I'm not, order something, alright? I love you. Have a good day."

The door closed behind him as he left and she blinked in shock.

He'd left.

He hadn't even put up a fight or tried to convince her to stay. He just...


She'd become so predictable that he didn't even bother. He just put off his wife's threats of leaving, deciding she never would and that it was no longer an issue; deciding he could put it off and she'd stick around to be 'begged' later.

Closing her eyes, she swallowed and forced back her tears- she certainly didn't want to have to redo her makeup since it was already pa-

No it wasn't. She had to pack that.

She turned around, moving back to their bathroom to collect her makeup before carrying it back to her bags and loading it into her purse.

She had time, of course, now. It was no longer a rush to get out. She had till around dinner. So.. plenty of time to eat. She'd go to the gym but.. she had other stuff in her gym bag so that'd have to wait till she knew where she was staying.

Mindlessly, she sat in the seat he'd been sitting in, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite before pursing her lips in bored disgust as she pulled the top off to remove the banana peppers he'd stacked on there.

Usually when he made sandwiches, he made it with half without, knowing they'd end up sharing.

Not today, evidently. She supposed he'd figured that she'd grab something light before scooting off to the gym as she usually did on Saturdays. And then she'd usually come back, shower again- the showers at the gym worked well enough to get the sweat off her but she preferred washing her hair properly in her own shower- and then they'd take their spots on the couch for a movie or cuddling while he told her his plans for the upcoming week and what he'd done in work the previous week. And then they'd have their elaborate dinner and then go to whatever artistic event he'd told her about and then to whatever club he had a client scheduled at, and then home to make love before bed. And then Sundays were the same, more or less.

Except today she was leaving him so.. there were a lot of things he hadn't figured on.

But where was she going to stay?

A hotel was out of the question. She wanted him not to know, at least at first. And hotels meant bills that he could check. So she'd have to stay with some-

Oh. Of course.

She knocked again, irritated, as she stood in the hallway of his building, her bags piled beside her. Clucking her tongue, she started pounding on the door, alternating between her fist and her open hand depending on which she felt was making the most noise at the time. "Robby! Robby! For the love of- ROBBY! Open the door! I know you're home!"

"I'm a little bus- Joanne?" he looked shocked as he pulled the door open, a sheet wrapped around his waist.

… He had one of his whores over. Great. … Yeah, she had no time for that right now.

She pushed her way past him, dragging her suitcase behind it with her gym bag piled on it.

"W-with bags," he managed, finally taking in the luggage. "What happened?"

She rolled her eyes, leaving her stuff in the living room and going to his bedroom. "Time to go," she told the girl, leaning down to scoop up the articles of women's clothing- flight attendant? Then... June? May- or was it 'Mae' when it was someone's name?

"Robert, is this your cleaning lady?" the redhead asked, clutching the blanket over her breasts.

… Yes. Definitely the dippy flight attendant.

"Yeah, sugar. That's great; time to go," she repeated, throwing the clothing at her.

"Wh- April-" That was it. Some.. month name. "- You just stay right there. I'll be right back." He grabbed her by the arm, pulling her back to the living room. "Joanne, now is not a good time. I'm... kinda entertaining right now. So, if you could..." He motioned towards the door.

She blinked dully up at him, unmoving, "Larry and I are getting a divorce, kiddo."

"What?" his eyes went wide and he nearly dropped the sheet in shock before scrambling to hold it up. "J- why?"

She crossed her arms, having no desire to talk about it, "Cause marriage is a bitch. Never get married, Robert. Never. … We act like we know what we're doing but we don't. But it's easier to pretend. So we all scold you and nag you about not being married. Truth is? We're all jealous. Every one of us. And we hate that you remind us of what we can't have anymore. They'll deny it, the rest of them, but it's true. They want that freedom you have. … Larry wants the freedom you have." She exhaled, plopping down into his couch, repeating, "... Larry wants it." She dropped her head to her hands before combing her fingers through her hair and leaning back.

"I-" he faltered, exhaling before sitting beside her, his sheet still clutched around him. "I don't know what- I'm sorry, Joanne. I really am."

"Robert? Is your cleaning lady gone?" The dippy redhead came out, the blanket wrapped around her- Jesus, she was tall.- and looked between them and then to the suitcase. "Is she going on a trip? Which airline?"

She blinked at him again, "Oh, you got yourself a real winner, Robby."

He half-smiled, nudging her, "Shut up."

"April, hunny. It's time for you to go," she told the girl, standing up. "So why don't you go put on your clothes and I'm sure Robby here will give you a call. .. Sometime."

He got up, going to the big-chested-bimbo flight attendant and ushering her back into his bedroom, "I'm sorry, April. My friend's going through a rough patch-" Divorce. "-with her husband and she needs a shoulder to cry on." She didn't cry. Not ever. "I'll call you after she goes home in a couple of days." Months. After the divorce proceedings.

"Are you friends with all your cleaning girls?" she heard the redhead ask him.

… Jesus, this one was thick.