Chapter 1
My husband lost a leg ten years ago saving my life.
Guilt kept me at his side for a decade, and I tried my best to take care of him.
I even bought costumes and sex toys to spice things up, but he never seemed interested.
Then one day, while cleaning his old prosthetic leg, I found a tiny hidden camera inside the joint.
There were videos of him and my best friend.
She was wearing the costume I bought, laughing at me while using his prosthetic leg like a toy.
I didn't cry. I didn't even get angry. I simply ordered an identical prosthetic leg, but this one was filled with a concentrated hydrofluoric acid gel.
And I left a note for him. [Babe, let's try something spicier.]
*****
I woke up every morning at six.
The first thing I did was head to the kitchen to make breakfast for Eric Lawson.
He loved his spaghetti topped with omelettes, and that hadn't changed in ten years.
I cooked the spaghetti until it was nearly done, then added the omelettes on top. The timing had to be spot on, down to the second.
When I walked into the bedroom carrying the plate, Eric was just waking up.
Sunlight came through the blinds, painting his face with scattered shadows.
"Morning." I set the plate on the table, my voice gentle.
He murmured a response and pushed himself up with his arms.
He threw back the blanket, and the hollow trouser leg lay there, like a scar that would never heal, a heavy chain that had held me for a decade.
"Which trousers do you want to wear today?" I opened the closet, lined entirely with custom-made tailored trousers, all chosen to mask his imperfection.
"Doesn't matter," he said.
His voice had that usual hint of impatient distance.
I'd gotten used to it.
I grabbed a dark gray pair and crouched to help him put them on.
Then came the prosthetic leg. The click of the clasps locking into place had been the theme echoing through my decade of marriage.
I adjusted the fit with extra caution, making sure every detail was perfectly in place.
"All set," I said.
He rose and took a few steps, flawless, as if nothing were missing.
No one else knew he was missing a leg; just the two of us.
He turned, standing over me as I crouched on the floor.
"Sophie is coming over," he said.
My heart twinged with pain.
He was talking about Sophie Williams, my best friend.
She was the only one here, besides me, who could make Eric crack even the tiniest smile.
Sophie arrived right on time at three in the afternoon.
She was carrying the latest designer bag and wearing a dress I couldn't bring myself to buy, her smile sunny.
"Julia, look what I brought you," she said, presenting a delicate box.
It was a bottle of perfume from my favorite brand.
"Thank you so much, but you really don't have to do this," I said, but inside, my heart felt warm.
She was the only cheerful spot in this stifling house.
"Please, after everything you do for this family, you should really treat yourself better," Sophie said.
As she spoke, she cast a knowing glance at Eric, who was sitting on the couch, absorbed in the financial news.
Eric put down his newspaper and, rarely, gave a small smile. "Morning."
"Hi, Eric, I figured it must be tough for Julia to look after you all by herself, so I came to help," Sophie said.
Sophie plopped herself down beside Eric, grabbed a grape from the plate, and offered it to him.
Eric leaned in and took the grape.
The intimacy of the gesture made me momentarily distracted.
However, I quickly suppressed the slight discomfort stirring in me.
Sophie was just outgoing. She had always cared about me.
During dinner, Sophie was sharing funny stories from her office, making Eric laugh out loud.
I watched them, painfully aware of my role as an outsider.
Sophie volunteered to give Eric a leg massage after dinner, saying it would help with the soreness where his stump met the prosthetic.
That was what I did for him every night.
"Don't worry. I'll take care of him," I said.
"Come on, Julia, you've been busy all day. Go take a load off," Sophie said, not giving me a chance to protest as she firmly sat me down on the couch.
She rolled up her sleeves and crouched next to Eric.
She pressed her hand into his thigh through his pants.
Eric had his eyes shut, looking like he was really enjoying it.
I couldn't take my eyes off Sophie's nails, painted a vivid red, flashing against the dark fabric of his trousers.
Her hands kept moving up, reaching the upper thigh.
My breath caught in my throat.
Eric tensed up for a second.
Sophie acted like she didn't notice, smiling as she asked, "Eric, I'm better at this than Julia, right?"
Eric opened his eyes, gazing at her with a depth I couldn't read, then shifted his look toward me. There was a hint of something teasing in his eyes that I couldn't figure out.
He said coolly, "She doesn't know how to do it."
My heart clenched, and for a moment, I couldn't breathe.