Lola
Wednesday, January 2nd, 1991
Hartford, Connecticut

Pregnant.

With child.

Bun in an oven.

Knocked Up.

Pregnant.

The words echoed through her mind at an alarming rate only to increase every few seconds. She was completely frozen and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t even tell her brain to make her throw her glass of white wine at him.

A moment later, the shock wore off and now only anger remained. How dare he? How dare he cheat on her? How dare he get his mistress pregnant? How dare he wine and dine her and make her think-?

“Son of a bitch,” she whispered.

“Lola,” he tried reaching for her hand.

She snatched it away. “Back away from me, Tristan. I don’t want you near me. I cannot believe-.” Lola broke off as she choked. Fumbling, Lola grabbed her reticule and left the table.

She heard Tristan call after her but that only motivated her to pick up her pace and rush out of the restaurant. Then she let out a string of curses, realizing that the only way she was getting home was by Tristan-or walking. But walking ten miles in the new Jimmy Choos she splurged for was unacceptable.

Lola stood outside the new Cadillac Tristan bought, and shivered in the cold. By the time he exited the restaurant, she was shaking-but not from the chilly New England winter breeze. He unlocked the car and Lola decided to slam the door as hard she could when she got in. She was slightly disappointed that the window didn’t shatter, though.

“Lola,” he snapped.

“You’re just lucky that there isn’t a bat anywhere near here,” she bit off as he started the engine.

“Can we at least talk about this?” he asked.

Lola shook her head. She was through with talking. Talking only lead to more arguments and arguments lead to-. Holy shitake friggin mushrooms! Every time he stormed out of the house after an argument-he was going to her!

“Who is she?” she asked, with relative control over her boiling rage if she said so herself, which she did.

He sighed. “It doesn’t matter.”

“The hell it doesn’t! I want to know who the skank is, you horny bastard!”

He nearly slammed onto the breaks. Luckily the light was red so the impact wasn’t great. He turned and glared at her. “You don’t get to say that,” he said eerily quiet. “You were like ice whenever I tried to touch you so don’t you dare get upset because I sought a warm body elsewhere.”

She didn’t want to cry. But it hurt. It hurt so badly that he hadn’t tried harder. But she fought back the only way she knew how. “Excuse me if I wasn’t willing to scratch your itch after you told me you were thinking of a divorce. Normally when a husband plans to leave his wife, he doesn’t demand sex.”

He let out a breath. “Forget it, Lola.”

“No, Tristan,” she goaded him as he drove through the now green light. “Who is it? Who satisfied you when I wouldn’t?”

“You haven’t satis-.”

Tristan broke off and Lola saw red. “Let me out! Let me out of the car!” she screamed at him.

“Lola, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

“No! I don’t want to look at you. Get me out of this car now!”

“We’ll be home in five minutes could you hold the hysterics until then?” he snapped, finally irritated with her.

She settled in her seat and glared stonily out the window. “I hate you,” Lola whispered so quietly she wasn’t even sure he heard her.

“I’m sorry for that.”

He heard her after all.

New story, and this one WILL stay. Um. The prologue is pretty short, but the next few chapters will be much longer.