Bereft - Jennifer Foor Page 0,1

too set in your ways to want to change. You do what works to make life easier. So we stuck to our schedules, and spent time together when we could.

I smiled at my reflection in the mirror. Just thinking back to a time when we had struggled was hard for me. I liked to think I was the love of Grayson’s life. He’d put me on a pedestal from the moment we met, and I’d never regretted a single second of our life together.

I took the tweezers and plucked a stag hair on my upper lip. I wondered how long it had been there, and if someone had noticed but been too embarrassed to say something. This mirror was making my morning dreadful, and also causing me to question if my husband was keeping things from me – like the stray hairs or large pores.

I suppose I’d been in an all-around bitter mood recently. I hadn’t been sleeping well at night, which was giving me dark circles under my eyes. My doctor said it was stress, and to try to use relaxation techniques. He had no idea what I’d been worried about, and how nothing could keep it from happening. I had tried Yoga, and even meditation, which ended in me laughing at myself so terribly I couldn’t continue.

Thankfully, Grayson never complained about my moods. It wasn’t like they were taking away from our magnificent sex life, or lack there of. If we screwed around once a month it was considered frequent. It wasn’t because I’d lost interest in my husband. He was gorgeous, and somehow getting sexier with age. I envied the way his skin stayed firm, and how he was constantly on the go.

When I got home at night, I wanted to kick back in pajama pants and relax while he got into projects, like painting, or jogging on the treadmill. He never seemed tired, like an energizer bunny with unlimited batteries. I read in bed until I fell asleep, most of the time having a Kindle hit me in the face when my lids closed before I could tuck it away.

Anyway, back to the reason for me being bitter. I’d received an email regarding a possible downsize. Employees weren’t supposed to know about the owner’s health taking a turn for the worst. The eighty year old man had battled cancer twice, and if you asked me, his body was tired of the struggle.

With that being said, everyone knew his grandson, Chad would eventually take over the company. His plans for a new future involved a ton of outsourcing. In fact, there were rumors he wanted to do away with the office and work off a remote server with minimal need for most of the people who worked there.

This would be the day where many of my co-workers discovered they’d lost their positions. I wasn’t too concerned about mine. I’d been there since I was nineteen, and gained a repertoire with the family. There was no way they’d kick me to the curb without prior notification. Aside from my husband, the owner was someone who cared for me. It wasn’t in a romantic way. I’d like to think he considered me a daughter. His Christmas gifts were always lavish, and I’d been invited to attend family events for years.

His grandson, on the other hand, was a little prick. Sure, he had a body that wouldn’t quit. It was obvious he spent most of his time at the gym, possibly beefing up with illegal injections of God only knows what. His eyes, a hazel in color, were constantly staring me down, and making me feel uncomfortable. He was like a dog on the prowl, and I was just a MILF, someone he fantasized fucking over his desk just to brag that it happened. Every week he’d storm into the office like he owned the place with a new bimbo attached to his hip. It made me want to gag, while his grandfather stated he was on his way to becoming a successful man, whatever that implied. Even though he’d attended college, I found him uneducated, or for a lack of better terms, worthless. If he was the last man on earth I still wouldn’t stoop to his level, not even blindfolded, or blind in general. I was positive his brain was located at the tip of his penis, deprived of air, and suffocating in whoever he was nailing at the time.

Yeah, you could say I was resentful. Maybe a