Why I had an affair with Tom...
I’m not a horrible person. Really,
I’m not. Or at least I don’t like to think so. George was never what I needed nor
wanted, and he never could be. I’ve known for years now. Catherine insists I
was just smitten with him in the beginning, but she doesn’t know what she’s
talking about. I told everyone about how much I truly detested the man in which
I was married to while we were at the party in Tom and I’s apartment. People
only judged me because they didn’t understand.
George had tricked me into marrying him. It’s true. He led me on to believe
he was so much more than he was. Or, at least, that’s how I remember. In any
case he should’ve known what I wanted. I remember I said to our guests, “‘I
married him because I thought he was a gentleman. I thought he knew something
about breeding, but he wasn’t fit to lick my shoe.” The day we were wed, I
found out that he had borrowed a suit from his friend. He couldn’t even afford buy
his own. How utterly pitiful.
But Tom… well Tom was everything I’d
ever dreamed of for a husband as a little girl. Wealthy, respected, strong. He
was everything that George could never give me, and that’s why I had the affair
with him. It made me giggle whenever I watched George cower under Tom’s
commanding stare when he’d visit the shop. The two men were so different, but
it was clear to me which one I truly belonged with. I know I’m still married to
George, but how much meaning does that word even hold? I may legally be his
wife, but I know I don’t love him as a wife should. And that’s not my fault. He
doesn’t give me that spark of excitement and risk that I feel when Tom whisks
me away and holds me in his arms.
I know he’ll leave Daisy sooner or
later, and then I’ll be able to leave George. And we’ll run away from this
godforsaken town and start our new life; free of wives that bicker over tea, and
away from husbands that always reek of oil and gasoline. We’re going to be happy,
Tom and I. Real soon.
Most affectionately,
-Myrtle
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