She snickers. “No, only when my Wesley is coming over with milk."
“I'm not yours, and you're a sick woman. What the hell are you wearing?" Wesley asks.
“Butyourmilk does my body so good, baby," she moans and grabs her breasts.
“Here we go," Wesley growls.
“How are you going to milk me today if you brought your boss with you?" she asks while strutting up to Wesley, then yanks on his bow tie.
He backs away from her with his hands up. “What the hell are you talking about?"
“He used to milk me all the time. It was our thing."
“Well, he is no longer with you, so why don't you go put your damn clothes on and have a little respect for yourself?"
Wesley is grinning at me, but I'm so disgusted and put off by this situation, I'm not sure what I'm doing or why I'm saying what I'm saying for any reason other thanI can't stand women like her.
“Do you even know who you are talking to?" she asks me.
“No, and I don't care. Is it safe to assume your name is Candy Wrapper or Cherry Pop?"
“What the hell, baby?" she turns to question Wesley. “I thought we had a good thing going here. You said you would come back and work beneath me at the club, right?"
“I said no, now drop it," Wesley says.
“The name is Randy," she says, turning her head to face me. Randy struts into the kitchen, dragging her long, white fingernails against Wesley's chest on the way. She grabs a bottle of the milk and returns with it.
“Want to take a sip for mama?" She asks Wesley, holding it up to his mouth.
I swear Wesley is turning green, so he closes his eyes. “No, I don't want your—no."
She takes a swig of the breast milk, and I want to gag for her, except somehow it appears she doesn't notice. “Mmm, this tastes like you," she tells Wesley. “It is, isn't it? You've been busy, I see."
I feel sick to my stomach, and I can't keep this up. “Look, Randy, I'm Wesley's girlfriend," I almost choke on the words, “and your behavior is disgusting. You're abusing the milk delivery service, and we need you to stop harassing our employees. Do you understand?"
“Wesley doesn't have a girlfriend," she says, jolting her head around like she's on top of the world.
“Yeah, I do," Wesley says.
“Well, does your girl know what you've been doing with me every day for the last two weeks?"
“Nothing has happened," Wesley argues with her.
Randy laughs as if he said the funniest thing she's ever heard. “Okay, well, it can be our secret, but just so you know, sweetheart, the red mark next to his bull riding machine, is from my teeth."
“Yeah well, for your information … you are drinking someone's breast milk, which I doubt tastes like semen."
My comeback is the last straw. I walk out of the house because I can't play this game. I don't want to fight for someone. I'm just not that person. I thought the red mark was a scar but didn't notice it until the other day because it was the first time we had sex in the daylight.Dammit.
My chest hurts. My heart hurts. I always listen to my gut, and shit, I should have this time too.
I will not get back into that damn truck. I can walk to the nearest bus station and drop this asshole like a bad habit. Shit. Shit. Shit. I'm so damn stupid.
“Maddy!" I hear, Wesley's shouting after me as I make my way down the street. I don't want to hear an explanation for why he couldn't stop her from sucking his dick. I don't want to hear any of it.
It looks like my luck is on its way back in the form of bus number sixteen because it pulls up right as I reach the stop, and it's going where I need it to go. I get in, and the doors close before anyone else can hold up the bus. That was the worst thing that could have happened, and I thought I had already assumed the worst, but I was wrong.
