DISCLAIMER: This story is a Twilight spin-off/crossover of the movie made for TV in 2000 titled Sex and Mrs. X. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, dialogues, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


CHAPTER NINE: Awful Discovery


I was in Bergdorf's, getting a new pair of boots, when I saw him.

Peter stood tall and proud, looking around the store as if he were looking for something.

I was about to raise my hand and wave when the redhead from my birthday party walked up to him and hugged him.

I stood frozen in place, watching as they chatted for a couple of minutes, before he kissed her and walked away.

I had no idea what came over to me, but I followed them.

I watched him take her shopping and she picked out a silver cocktail dress that wasn't right for her coloring. She had red hair and blue eyes; her body was on the skinny side with little curves, but with a nice-sized rack. They were certainly bigger than my modest B cup. She looked familiar, but I couldn't place where or when I had met her.

"What are we looking at?"

I jumped, startled by Rosalie's voice.

"Jesus Christ, Rosalie… you scared me!"

Rose snorted, but then frowned when she spotted Peter. "What is Peter doing shopping with his partner?"

I had forgotten Rose had been in the kitchen when I had kicked the redhead out of the house.

"His partner?"

"Yeah, you remember her, that snotty woman Charlie, Charlize…"

I gasped. "Charlotte Spencer!"

"Yeah, that's her."

I touched my forehead and looked down, feeling sick.

"Bella, are you okay? What's wrong?"

"He didn't leave me because he was bored, he left me for Charlotte."

"What? Bella, you're not making any sense…"

I turned around and walked out of the store, Rose one step behind. I hailed a cab, and together we went back to my apartment. I was feeling sick and honestly, plain stupid, for not seeing what had been right in front of my eyes all of this time.

All the late nights at the office, the work lunches, and the thing that pissed me off more: the comparisons Peter had always made. He would always compare my clothing, my hair, my posture, everything with her, and I was always found to be lacking.

That piece of shit!

Thank God - and my lawyer - that I didn't give him a cent of what was mine; I had even kept the house, which I'd sold to buy a condo in the city.

By the time we made it back to my place, Rosalie was promising to become the new Lorena Bobbitt, and even our cab driver said if he saw my husband under the rain hailing a cab, he would make sure he ran over a pothole and soaked him with dirty water.

That night, Rosalie and I got plastered. After drunk-dialing the bastard and calling him out on his pussy move, we both crashed on my bed.


BETA: Mauigirl60 | PRE-READER: Alterite