Hey guys, it's Kuruk. So, I don't know why, but I feel myself drifting back towards infidelity. I thought that I'd gotten that out of my system with 'Lie to Make it Better', but I discovered that I hadn't. I guess the reason for this was that in that fic Elli portrayed a wife that felt she was to blame in the marriage. She was very passive and guilty. I really didn't capture the other side of the spectrum-- rage, anger. So in this one I have. Hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: No, I still don't own Harvest Moon. (cry, cry)
I'm Not Going
I don't know if this is exactly normal.
Shouldn't I be crying my eyes out into the pillow or something? I should be sad and betrayed... instead all I feel is cold... but not numb. No, I'm alive... more alive than I have ever felt in my entire life. I'm thinking clearly, my thoughts logical, precise.
But most of all, I'm angry.
The anger runs through me, making my emerald eyes flash in fury, my hands tighten into fists... I want to make him hurt, I want to make him suffer for this. How dare he? How dare he betray me this way?
Oh but he dared. He more than dared. He started an affair with that pretty little blonde city girl. Publicly. He used the Inn to play his little games, he buys her presents at my own Supermarket! For Goddess' sake he's even building her a house on the beach!
Did he honestly think I wouldn't find out? That I was stupid?
Maybe I have been stupid, though, for not finding out until now. I should've noticed his absences as peculiar, the pitying glances everyone from Ann to Saibara give me as indication enough. That bubbly little slut's superior demeanor around me as a big neon flashing arrow towards my husband's infidelity.
But no. It took me a whole season to notice. I must look like an idiot-- a blind, old trophy wife that just turns her head from her husband's affairs.
And that makes me even angrier. The anger twists and turns through me, very alive.
So I wait. In the darkness of our house, playing with the wedding ring he'd given me, eyes trained on the door. He'd be back soon. All I had to do was wait. I had all the time in the world.
I don't know how long I sit at the kitchen table, my anger making me want to wreck the place that had been my home for the past two years... all I knew is that when the door opened, my heartbeat stayed level, my eyes narrowed, my hands tightened into fists.
Light filtered into the room and he came in, looking very tired. He stretched, not seeing me in the darkness. Then he flicked the light switch and when his big brown eyes lazily passed over the table, he saw me.
He jumped, startled. I simply stared, relishing in his surprise, prideful in the way I looked. I looked perfect-- my hair falling over my shoulders in perfect order, my makeup perfect, dressed in my finest clothes. There was a bottle of wine at the table, unopened.
Finally, he settles down enough to speak. "Oh geez, honey, you scared me," he began casually, hand on his chest for dramatic effect, "Why were you just sitting there in the dark?"
When I heard my own voice, I couldn't believe how normal it sounded. "I was thinking."
He blinks at my plain tone, at my eyes boring into his coldly, at my motionless body. I'm sure he's thinking how good I look now, he's probably thinking that maybe he could fool around with me before he runs back to his little Claire later tonight.
He disgusts me.
"Oh..." he says dumbly, "Well, what's for dinner?"
"Nothing."
He looked surprised, even a little annoyed.
That idiot.
"What do you mean there's no dinner?" he asks me, angry-- my own anger flashes at his, urging me to claw his eyes out right now, to castrate him, or something. "I mean, I work hard all day-,"
Had it not been for the cool running my body I would've laughed. "Oh, I'm sure," I said dryly.
He looked at me incredulously. "Yes, I do."
We stared each other down for a few moments before I gave him a patronizing smile and turned to the bottle of wine. "You're home late," I said as I opened the bottle and poured myself a glass.
He looked frazzled. "W-well... yeah... Zack had some trouble with my shipments that he needed me to help him sort out..." he excused himself, so sure that I would smile and tell him I'd just go and make dinner then.
"I see," was all I said, lifting my glass to my lips and taking a small sip, the wine tasting like nothing to me. For the first time in my life, I wasn't enjoying this... wine, it shocked me, that the cool and the anger had changed me so to turn one thing I'd always found certain about myself around.
Very potent.
He looked at the table and back at me. "None for me?" he asked, a smile on his face.
I stared him down. Once, I'd melted at that smile, loved the way it made me feel I was the only woman that he had ever given it to, the way it made me feel beautiful, special.
Now it just made me want to claw at his lips.
"No," I told him, watching his face twist into annoyance and confusion, "This isn't your wine."
He looked angry then. "Like hell it isn't. Whose money did you buy it with, huh?"
I could almost smile. "My father's," I told him, taking another sip, "Remember this wine?" I asked him casually, picking up the bottle and affectionately looking at the label, "My father bought many of these for me when I was born," I took yet another sip, smacking my lips, "Delicious."
It took him a few moments to process what I'd just said. "That isn't... that isn't the wine you... gave me... is it?"
I nodded, a smile on my lips. "Oh, yes, that's the one," I said innocently, "I just had a sudden urge to wreck a perfectly good thing we had going," my hand tightened around the glass, my eyes felt like they were smoldering, "Do you ever get a feeling like that, Jack?"
He looked confused. The anger peeked through the surface, but only for an instant. I threw the wine glass at him. Unfortunately he managed to move out of the way, the glass instead shattering on the wall, the last of the wine I'd been drinking trickling down the wall.
His expressions were priceless. First complete shock, then fury. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
I laughed and climbed on the table, taking care to make my movements sensual and provocative. He gulped and his eyes ran over my body, appraising me like a piece of meat. I took the bottle and put it to my lips, taking a long gulp.
"What's wrong, dear? I thought you liked it when I acted this way?"
He shook his head, and what was that?-- a blush? I could laugh. "N-not here... not when you're trying to hurt me."
"Oh, but I," my face contorted in fury as I hopped down from the table and I walked towards him quickly, "love it."
He stepped backwards. "K-Karen..."
"Do you love me, Jack?" I asked him in a mocking tone.
"O-of course-," he stuttered.
I laughed. Cruelly. Then my eyes rested on his and my fury overpowered me. "Liar!" I shrieked, turning on my heel and stomping towards the kitchen.
He was mute as I twisted the knob to high on the stove and slammed a pot on it. "What would you like for dinner?" I asked him, riffling through a few cabinets, the heat from the stove rising every second, "I know," I cried with mock-enthusiasm as I walked briskly towards the closet, pulling his clothes off the hanger, "This will be the best meal I've ever prepared you, baby," I laughed, "Even Mr. Gourmet would give me first prize at the Cooking Festival for this one! And I never win!"
Jack looked like he was about to have a stroke. "W-w-what are you-,"
But by that time I was already back at the kitchen, where I threw the hot pot off the stove and shoved his clothes onto the burner instead. "There, looks good."
Jack began to run towards me as the clothes began to smoke. "Have you gone insane!?" he shrieked, sweeping his clothes off the burner and crying out in pain right after.
He'd burned himself. Aww, poor baby.
I laughed again. "Need to go to the Clinic, Jack? Is the big, strong farmer scared of that little burn?" I asked him cruelly, my anger coursing through me, elated at seeing him hurt.
"Karen what the hell-," he began through the finger in his mouth.
"No, Jack! What the hell is wrong with you!" I shrieked, advancing on him so that I stared directly into his big, frightened eyes.
"K-Karen-!" he began, trying to sound threatening.
I punched him. Hard. He jerked to the side and hit the sink, where he tried to gain his balance. "How dare you come back into my house after you just finished cheating on me with that common slut!?" I screamed, my fury finally breaking free.
He froze there, against the sink, the blood falling from his split lip beginning to drop on my kitchen floor. "K-K-Karen..." he stuttered.
"Do you honestly think," I began, my fury turning my voice deadly, frightening, "That I wouldn't find out?"
"K-Karen-,"
"That I wouldn't know that my husband was having an affair-,"
"Karen!"
"How dare-,"
"I love her!" he screamed over me, "More than I could and ever have loved you!"
I didn't stop, I just paused, my fury finding new words. "Do you want me out, Jack? Out of 'your house'?"
He looked shocked that I was offering. "I-I..." he stopped.
"Tell me the truth," I demanded, tone cold and calm.
"Yes," he said without another moment's hesitation.
I threw my head back and laughed. Really, you're just told to leave and you start laughing. I knew something was wrong with me right then and there, but the fury coiled within me, burning to destroy this man.
"I'm not going," I said simply, strolling back to the kitchen table and taking a seat, taking another gulp from the bottle of wine.
He paused. "You're going to have to-,"
I laughed again. "No, I don't have to do anything. Really, Jack, do you really know what this," I lifted my hand up, my wedding ring glistening on my finger, "means?" I waited, not really expecting him to answer, "It means that I am you wife. What's yours is mine, dear. This house is mine. This farm is mine. Your money is mine. Everything you own is mine."
Jack looked pale, I laughed at him. "Oh yes, dear," I spat, "I'm not going."
He shook his head. "You have to."
My eyes narrowed at him. "Oh? Or what?"
"I'll throw you out," he said, sounding so superior right then and there that I was sickened to the core by his idiocy.
"Oh really?" I asked, "Oh really?" I shrieked, "Try it! Try it! Try kicking me out of my house and making room for you slut and see what happens-,"
"She's pregnant!" he screamed, "And she is going to be my wife!"
I froze, the fury recoiling, flinching back at his words. It hurt. Those words. I blinked a couple of times.
Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant.
The word blared on an on in my mine almost like a mantra that staved back the fury each time, making me writhe and feel like there was a gaping wound in my chest.
Jack walked forward casually, picking up my wine bottle. "Yes. So I'll need you to leave. To make room for Claire and the baby. If it all possible," his eyes met my grieved ones, "You should leave now."
The fury reared inside me again and before I could control myself I'd lunged forward, my foot kicking out. It him in between the legs and he feel to the floor, writhing in agony, the bottle of wine falling to floor beside him with a clunking sound.
He was in so much agony he couldn't even sleep as he looked up at me. The fury tore through me. It wanted blood, it wanted Jack dead. I considered it. I really did.
Instead, I calmly reached for the wine and took a gulp. "You see, Jack," I told the pathetic, crying man on the floor, "This is mine. I made you, Jack. Before I married you this farm was nothing, your life was nothing. This farm, this house and all your money, is mine.
"And did you actually believe that you would get everything? Here? The place I've lived since I was three? This place doesn't take kindly to strangers, especially not adulterous strangers that carry one behind their spouse's back," I looked down at him, watching his face as it twisted, "Now that I know, they won't treat you like one of them anymore. They'll treat you like the garbage that you are. Especially since I'm leaving you."
He gulped frantically for air. I walked towards him, he flinched back in fear. "So, Jack. Take you slut and your baby and leave this place. In fact," I said, "If at all possible, leave today. You have an hour to get your clothes and get gone. I'm not going anywhere," I turned to leave before I remembered the bottle in my hand-- the most precious gift I'd ever given anyone, "And don't forget this," I said, turning and showing him the bottle, "It's yours," I looked at him coldly.
And then I poured the wine all over him.
When I was finished, I calmly put the wine back on the table and left my ex-husband groaning on the floor.
It was only that I was halfway through town that I fell to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
A/N: Oh. My. God.
That was the strongest fic I have ever written.
I'm a bit in shock, actually...
Well, Karen's OOC-ness can be explained by the cheating-- betrayal changes us into something different... I didn't like the ending though, but after Karen had unleashed everything she had within her, it was the hurt that had caused it that was left, and, it well, spilled over.
Overall I'm satisfied with this. I hope you are too. Please review.