There she was, my live-in maid, washing my glasses and crystals as delicately as possible. I stood there watching her, without her knowing I was in the kitchen. I hid when I noticed my husband walking in and asking about me.

“She told me she was going to your mother's to get the invitations,” she said with a tender look.

I kept listening, even though I should have left before witnessing that romantic, yet disgusting scene. My husband approached her from behind and started kissing her neck, touching her body with unsettling familiarity. I was angry, but stood still watching them like a hidden camera. I heard her moaning and turning her lips to his ears. 

My blood had frozen in my veins and I was breathing heavily. I could just walk in on them: my maid, someone I trusted, and my husband, who always told me he loved me, and to whom I could say a cruel thing or two. Instead, I decided to leave, walking through the dining room all the way to the street. I got in the first taxi cab I saw and took my cell phone out of my purse. My hands were shaking while I dialed my mother-in-law's number.

“Hello?” a calm voice said.

“It's me, Lia,” I uttered quickly. “I just wanted to let you know that I won't be able to make it today. I forgot I wouldn't have time to go over there. I just realized that now...”

I didn't give her a chance to mock my formal tone, so I hung up before she had a chance to say anything. I told the taxi driver to take me to Porcão Steakhouse and he drove me to the entrance of the restaurant, which was nearby. I thanked the toothless driver and left him a tip, since he was smiling at me so charismatically.

I got in the restaurant and was welcomed by an friendly Asian lady. I sat down by the window, looking at the garden outside while trying to recompose myself. That image was replaying in my head and tormenting me. I had an appointment an hour ago, but I decided to take a moment to myself, since I am my own priority. This restaurant was like a second home to me.

I looked at the menu, ordered a glass of red wine and let the waiters bring the different types of meat to my table and carve them in front of me. Suddenly, I noticed a man walking in my direction. I was trying to remember where I knew him from, when he took my hand in his and kissed it.

“Remember me? Ralf Jean...” he said.

A gentleman, as always. We went to college together. He looked really pleased to see me and I tried to hide my tears while I invited him to join me.

“Of course I remember you. Have lunch with me! I'll go get my plate ready at the buffet table and you can go after me. I mean, if you want to...” I suggested.

He looked at me as if he could see right through my forced smile.

“Is there something wrong?” he asked.

I changed the subject, trying to avoid the embarrassing truth.

“Are you here with someone?” I asked.

“I'm at this table over here with my family. I saw you walking past us and I just wanted to say hi, but I unfortunately cannot join you.”

I looked at the table and saw his wife staring at me. She looked sick, a little pale and frail.

“She's beautiful, but is she alright?” I asked with a smile on my face.

“She's sick, as you can see,” he replied with a serious tone. “We're trying to entertain her, take her away from that prison that our house has become. The cancer is eating her brain and she's in her terminal stage.”

I looked at her again, but she was distracted with their two small children.

“I'm deeply sorry... I'll check out the buffet. Will you wait for me?” I asked.

He nodded and I went over to their table first.

“The virtue of being a woman like you is having a husband like yours,” I said, kissing her on the cheek. “I'm sure he loves you deeply. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

She didn't understand where I was coming from with that statement. I waved at the boys, who were smiling at me as I made my way to the buffet table.

Ralf smiled when I hurried back to my table.

“What did you say to her?”

“Nothing... just girl stuff. Don't worry. I wouldn't be good company today. Go to her, 'cause she's waiting.”

He touched my hand again and walked away from my table. I absentmindedly played with my food. Suicide even crossed my mind, but nothing could be more cruel to myself than bleeding in revenge. I didn't finish my lunch and asked for the check before I had a chance to try my favorite items. I was confused and I just wanted to get rid of any insane thoughts.

Ralf looked at me with the same deep eyes his wife had observed me with. I looked down and left the restaurant quickly, without looking back. My personal problems were starting to affect my indestructible being. I always pretended I was tough...

I got into another taxi cab and went back home, where I thought I had the perfect life. It was all an illusion, my mind playing tricks on me. I got out of the cab and got into my own car. I started the car and thought about running away, but I was still in my driveway when I turned off the engine. I kept my hands on the steering wheel, but I was restlessly staring at my garden full of porcelain. It was an indescribable image. So magical... So beautiful... I didn't even know how to face it. I unbuckled the seat belt and opened the door, attempting to get out of the car.

When I stood up, I saw Chris coming out of the back door of the house. She was still wearing her wrinkled uniform and her hair was a mess. She touched my roses as if they were hers.

“Chris!” I yelled her name.

She jumped, smiled a silly smile and tried to fix her hair. I closed the car door and walked toward her. I was standing tall, letting my sensuality do the talking while rage was actually seeping through my veins.

“I need you to come with me to my bedroom...” I told her while I stared her in the eyes.

I saw my husband leaving in his car while we were going into the house. We were definitely alone. I followed her to my bedroom while terrible thoughts ran through my head, but I decided to do what was right. I asked her to sit down in the armchair and so she did, as if she owned the place. 

I locked the door behind me and got a pair of handcuffs from my closed. Her eyes were open wide and she was suddenly afraid. I told her to be quiet while I forced her arms behind her and handcuffed her. She tried to resist, but she was getting my message. I got my scissors in the drawer and let her hair go down. She started to cry.

“Do you know how I felt when I saw you being intimate with my two-faced husband?” I asked her, cutting her hair, strand by strand. “Do you understand why I'm going down to your level, you...”

I couldn't finish. I couldn't utter those words. But she learned her lesson! I shredded her uniform to pieces and slashed her face a little bit with the scissors. I slapped her a couple of times and let my rage go before I left my bedroom in tears, like a little girl.

I went into her room and cut up all her clothes. Then I went back into my room and cut up my husband's clothes. I packed my bags while listening to her mumbled some empty threats. Before I left that monstrous place, I pulled her head back, yanking at the little hair she had left, and smiled. I felt relieved after leaving her looking horribly like that. But I could still feel the pain of being cheated on. I was vulnerable.

I put my bags in the trunk of my car and went to Seattle, my favorite retreat. My mind was racing while I was driving. I didn't know what to do with all those lies, but I knew that was not my place. I've actually never felt at home anywhere. Being cheated on not only killed me inside, but took a hold of me. I acknowledged that my future would be more humbled and I recognized I wasn't being a hero in my bitter existence, but I decided to go down an unknown path and change my life.