That One Time My Brother Cheated on His Wife.

 

When I was around fifteen, my married brother, Drake, who was years older than me, had an affair with a work colleague.

When I spied the other woman from a distance, I lost hope – that chick resembled Pamela Anderson. When she does her own hair and make-up. That Pamela, she drank bottles and bottles of beer and chain-smoked, using a shiny cigarette holder (I thought the cigarette holder was so damn classy, I wanted one even though I did not smoke).

As I studied the other woman, I concluded with dismay, that my sister in law Cheryl, stood not a chance against the blonde bombshell. Compared with Pamela, Cheryl was plain. Plain, but nice with a nurturing nature. (I like her, hence the alliteration.)
Now Drake, my cheating-ass bro, he was a tall, green-eyed dude who had slept his way around the neighborhood prior to getting hitched. Prior. Maybe it had something to do with those tattoos of skulls on his arms and his awesome tan.
Luckily, once married, Drake had morphed into a caring family man and stopped fucking around.  Growing up in a family of turmoil, Drake was my father-figure and protector. He still is and I love him dearly. (It’s the kind of love that brings tears to one’s eyes as you write about it. Ever had that?)
Since we all lived in a big, overcrowded family home (I was one of seven children – that’s right, a child for every day of the week), I was privy to the arguments between Cheryl and Drake, which I eavesdropped on. (We didn’t have Tik Tok then, so we drew entertainment from wherever we could.)
Prior to the affair, Cheryl and Drake had a great relationship, and I had always taken comfort in their solid marriage. So, when Drake had the affair, I was crushed. I felt so betrayed by my brother’s behavior, my fifteen-year-old hurt self urged my sister-in-law to leave his cheating ass.
She didn’t leave him, which made me lose a bit of respect for her.
Nevertheless, I hung around my hurt sister-in-law, trying to find ways to comfort her. For the first time I can remember, I actually helped her with household chores, mainly because she was OCD about cleanliness, and I was anything but.
I figured the best way to comfort Cheryl was to help her clean up the house and make her endless cups of tea with sugar, which she never said no to.
One day while peeling potatoes, the conversation between my sister-in-law and myself went like this:
Me: “Leave him! He’s a bloody cheat! Leave him, Cheryl.”
Cheryl: “Peel a little thinner; you’re peeling too thick, Eve.”
Me: “He’s a bloody cheat!”
Silence.
Me: “Why do you want to stay with a dog like that?” (Yeah, I called my beloved brother a dog. But it was a Golden Retriever, not a Rottweiler.)
Cheryl: “Eve, when you have a good man, other women want him because he’s good. All the things you found attractive in him, those women are also attracted to, and that’s why they want him. He may fight them off for a while, but sometimes temptation gets to him. You must understand that.”
Me: “Mm. Is this enough, or must I peel more?”
Cheryl: “You can’t just give up on your marriage. Two more, but peel thinner. Sometimes the affair dies off and then he realizes that the fun part is over and he returns to the marriage. Yes, think like that! Drake is worth fighting for, you know. So … I’ll fight for him. I must have patience.”
patience, my ass!
Me: “You want a cup of tea?”
Cheryl: “Yes, please, Eve.”
See what I mean – Cheryl never said no to tea.
I worried about the ‘fighting’ bit, though. Not only did I believe that Cheryl didn’t stand a chance against the striking blonde, but I also wasn’t sure about Cheryl’s pow! wow! skills. I believed that the blonde would win in both instances. Not sure why, but I believed that.
I was however, determined to stand next to Cheryl and beat the crap out of the other woman, if need be. I was the type to insert myself into a fight, mainly to separate. Except when someone was fighting with one of my sibling; then I would band with my sibling and kick the crap out of the person. Or try to. I was from the hood, so I knew a thing or two about fighting, having had my fair share of punch-ons.

So, I braced myself for the rumble, to scratch out her blue eyes (if need be, because they were so pretty), pull at her long blonde mane (if need be because it was so glorious) and to steal her cigarette holder (even though I didn’t smoke, I would feel cool).
But … the fight didn’t take place. I cannot remember why it didn’t.
For a couple of weeks, Drake was AWOL and Cheryl went to bed alone, long after everyone in the family went to bed.

Our family rallied around Cheryl, trying to comfort her, the air around us thick with uncertainty and disappointment. Except for my mother – I did not see her comfort Cheryl at all. I think she didn’t care too much for Cheryl because … well, maybe it was because Cheryl cooked and cleaned for our family, washed our clothing, shopped, took care of her husband’s younger sisters and did everything a mother would for the family, while my mother did nothing. Maybe that was the reason my mother resented her daughter-in-law. But, since Cheryl was my surrogate mother, I loved her and was prepared to punch out the lights of the other woman.

Late one night, I heard my brother’s Ford Cortina (a bottle green one with a noisy exhaust) pull up into our yard. I got up from my bed and peeped through the window. Drake had parked the car, but he hadn’t alighted from the vehicle.
I waited.
Almost half an hour passed, and he remained in the car.
What the hell?
Then, through the window, I watched Cheryl stride up to the car. I was sure she had a brick in her hand. I expected her to, because that’s what I would have had in my hand – two bricks, one for backup and because I believed in spares and pairs.

Anyho, I got scared and then excited – fight! fight! fight!
I braced myself for Cheryl to lose her shit, to slam the brick through the car window, to smash it against my cheating brother’s head, for him to burn rubber as he raced away from the scorned wife, blood dripping down his head.

I further mentally prepared to race downstairs and separate the scorned wife from the cheating Golden Retriever if there was a physical altercation. I even braced myself to cop a few blows in the process. I would take them for Cheryl, but I prayed they would not come from the brick.

Although, I didn’t want Drake’s skull to get crushed, because he was the kind of guy who, as a teenager used his money on essentials for the family like a clothes iron and kettle. He was that kind of boy. Sweet.

What I saw next confused me. I watched my sister-in-law open the door, take Drake’s hand and lead him out of the car. She hugged him, dried his tears with her hands, then led him into the house.
Then there was silence. Oh, I did eavesdrop, but I heard zilch. Bemused, I took my tired self to bed, where I slept with one eye open.

After that, Cheryl and Drake lived happily ever after.

No, seriously – Pamela and her cigarette holder fucked off, Cheryl and Drake went on to have another beautiful daughter, and we all lived happily ever after in our overcrowded home.
I kept a keen eye on the Golden Retriever after that, brick in sight, waiting for him to slip up and return to his errant ways. But, Drake was so good to Cheryl after that, so attentive and such an amazing husband, Cheryl became the envy of all the women around, including those who Drake whored around with in the neighbourhood.

Not only that, but Drake was an amazing dad to their two children, and they love him the way I love him. I wanted to marry a man just like Drake, so that I could have their marriage.
Recently, I visited Cheryl and Drake, and during one of our long walks down memory lane, Cheryl coughed twice. Just twice. Drake immediately got up and fetched her a glass of water. She hadn’t even asked him for water. Good doggie, right? I thought how lucky Cheryl was to be married to an attentive man like Drake. I thought how glad I was that she did not take my advice and leave.

They recently celebrated their 40^th wedding anniversary, which I was unable to attend as we live in different countries (names have been changed to protect the guilty).

So, the moral of the story? The reason I air my family’s dirty laundry? (Some of it, I have tons, believe me).
Well, no reason, really. I just wanted to share with you what my wise sister-in-law told me years ago.

Have I ever used that advice?
No.
Why?
Because my fucking ego is too big!

Look, people are quick to say, “Walk away! No man is worth fighting for.” Yeah, they may be right.
However, if your man is abusive, I would tell you to pick up two bricks. I’m kidding (I’m from the hood, remember?) No, I would tell you to leave in a heartbeat.

If a man wasn’t attentive or if your marriage needs resuscitation, I’d advise you to talk to him about it. Several times. Handcuff the motherfucker to a chair and force him to listen.
If he doesn’t listen, or consider your feelings, I’d ask you to ditch him. Simple.

Or stay married to him, but have an extramarital affair with the pool boy with an out of control libido. Simple.
What? Like you’ve never fantasized about it?

Over the years I’ve had lots of women tell me off, when I suggested not being too quick to leave their cheating significant other. And that’s okay, I get it. But, what if he’s worth fighting for? What if you could survive this blimp on the road to your fortieth wedding anniversary? Mm?
Food for thought? (Post updated for correction - it should read fortieth not fiftieth.)

Anyway, since we’re on the subject of whoring around, have you read The Other Woman by Eve Rabi (that’s me, BTW).
You haven’t? OMG!!! Why not? You’re missing on a mother of a rumble, believe me!
Check it out here:

Question: A seductress steals your husband, rips apart your family and shatters your dreams.

You:

a) Wish them luck, and walk away with your head held high (because that’s what society expects you to do)?

b) Quietly seethe, but accept that there is just nothing you can do about it (because it easier for everyone if you do nothing)?

c) Dig up dirt on the b**tch (because someone like this would undoubtedly have dirt), use it to sabotage their relationship, then sit back with a glass of Pinot Grigio and watch the fuckers BUUUURN?

Answer: C. Totally C. Oh, God, C!

The Other Woman $0.99c for a limited time!

A mild-mannered wife awakes one day to find that she has been replaced by a cunning seductress. Helplessly, she watches the other woman help herself to her husband, her children and her life. Then one day, she snaps. With nothing to lose, she sets out to fight, win back her family, take back all that is hers.

Her techniques are dirty and underhanded, causing untold misery to her nemeses, rocking the foundations of her ex-husband’s new marriage.

Trouble is, the other woman does not believe in losing, has no intention of backing down and is an even dirtier fighter. The result? A scandalous collision between the wife and the mistress, where mayhem and murder follow.

If you’ve enjoyed Gone Girl, Girl on the Train, HBO’s The Affair and Fatal Attraction, you will enjoy this fast-paced, action-packed romantic suspense thriller about lust, betrayal, revenge, and somewhere along the line, steamy romance.

$0.99 cents for a limited time!
To read more from THE OTHER WOMAN, click on this link:

https://smarturl.it/870daj

 

MY BROTHER, MY RIVAL - Angsty, drama-filled Romantic Suspense

We warned her, “Don’t fall for Cody, he’s a player, he’ll break your heart. Guaranteed. Ignore that chiseled six-pack of his, those rugged looks, that melting grin – all of it, and go for his brother, Scott, instead. Scott, now there’s a gentleman, intelligent, kind, shy, and just as good looking as Cody. Really, he is. The kind of man who won’t break your heart. Husband material.”
Did Bridie listen? Nope.  And where did it get her? A broken heart – that’s what she got. As expected. Of course, none of us said, I told you so. We wanted to, but we didn’t. Why? Because we were young and dumb once. 
Anyway, life has a way of screwing things up, as you know, and in this case, it did. In a big way. Huge, I tell you. Cody, Bridie and Scott were quickly thrust headlong into a heartbreaking love triangle that destroyed the brother’s relationship, ripped apart their family and left them drowning in heartbreak. Sad. 
It didn’t end there. Oh, no – years later, circumstances forced the trio to interact and even live together – that’s right, two of them were to live together!
Buried emotions surfaced, old wounds were picked at, and a tsunami of heartbreak followed.   
And then? you ask. 
Well, there are a lot of ‘And thens’, too many for me to list. So, my suggestion: make a giant pot of coffee, because you’re going to be reading this fast-paced romantic suspense thriller through the night. (Add whisky or rum or brandy to the pot if you need to.) Oh, and keep the tissues handy, because you’re going to cry. Ugly cry. Guaranteed. Like really ugly. Hey, we’re talking about two brothers and their hearts here – how can this story not be sad?

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EXCERPT
I was silent as I drove my family to dinner. They weren’t – they chatted away in high-pitched voices about … I have no idea what the fuck they chatted about, because my mind was reeling with the betrayal - my girl and my brother, my girl and my brother, my girl and my FUCKING BROTHER!
How could they do this to me? I loved her with every fiber of my being, and she would do this to me? What about him? He was my brother – I’d die for him in a heartbeat, he knew that, and he could do this to me? Why? How? When? Where? The fuck I knew. I just felt the urge to break something. In fact, my urge to destroy became so intense, I found myself turning my Hummer around.
“Wha … where you going?” my mother demanded.
I didn’t answer.
“I asked you a question,” she said, her voice filled with panic.  “Where you going?”
My response was to hit the gas.
My dad sat upright in his seat, his neck turning wildly around, a look of fear on his face. “Son?”
I stared ahead at the road as I floored it.
“Bro, stop!” Jenna said. “I know where you’re going! You stop right now. This minute! Bro …”
Ignoring all their pleas, I gunned the Hummer toward Bridie’s old place. That’s where she’d be. She had to be there.  She’d better be there.
I made it just in time – she was in the parking lot, about to get into my brother’s Roadster.
Okay.
I spotted him in the driver’s seat, talking on his phone.
I braked hard, and without killing the engine, hopped out of my Hummer.
Within seconds, my family was chasing after me in tandem, my sister behind me, my father behind her and my mother behind him, all chorusing for me to stop whatever I was about to do.
When Bridie saw me, she mouthed my name, her blue eyes filled with surprise at the sight of me.
With a mirthless smile, I picked up a brick from the side of the road and strode toward my brother.
When she saw me pick up the brick, it was Bridie’s turn to scream. “What are you doing with that brick? STOOOOP! What are you doing? STOOOP!”
I ignored her and stomped over to my brother. What did she think I was going to do with the brick, huh? Smash his skull with it until his brains decorated his beloved Roadster – that was the plan. Simple.
His window was opened. Good.
The first thing I did was boot his door several times. That caused the door to buckle and trap him inside the car. Exactly where I wanted him to be.
When he saw me above him, brick in hand, a manic look on my face, the phone slid out of his hand. Amidst the pleas of my family and the screams of woman who betrayed, I raised the brick.
His eyes grew large – the largest I’ve ever seen.
Through clenched teeth I said, “You and my girl, bro? Yeah? Well, guess what? Today you die! Bro.”
PRAISE FOR MY BROTHER, MY RIVAL
“Dishes didn’t get washed, supper didn’t get cooked, nothing got done. This book was like a drug; I had to know what happened.”
“It's so hard to find a really good book these days. Every so often you find a jewel. My Brother, My Rival, is such a good read! You won't want to put it down.”
“There are very few books that can make me cry. Ugly cry. I’m giving this a perfect 10.”
“If you have something to do during your day, DO NOT start reading this book! ’Cause once you start you won't put it down!”
“I love love love this book so much. I've read it twice.”
“This book has been playing in my head all night. I dreamed about it, woke up thinking about it. Serious book hangover coming up. You will need tissues a few times in this book.”
"If I could give this book a 10, I would! It has everything. Brilliant! I’m a fan for life.”
“I could not go to sleep until I finished this book, then I woke up the next morning to reread it.”
"You will laugh, cry and yell with this book, you won't be able to put it down once you start reading it! THIS IS A BOOK NOT TO BE MISSED!!"
“Fabulously realistic and colorful, the descriptions of people and events are great.”
"Brilliant story. Made me laugh and cry. Have recommended it to family and friends."

$0.99 for a limited time!         Kindle Unlimited

To read more of angsty and heartbreaking drama, click on the Amazon link below:
https://smarturl.it/47nhxe




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Eve Rabi is the author of 41 romantic crime and suspense novels.
Inspired by the likes of Sidney Sheldon and Gillian Flynn, her tales are bold, scandalous, controversial and often humorous.
To quote an Amazon reviewer: “When you pick up an Eve Rabi book, forget sleep. She writes gripping page turners that will keep you reading till the very end.”
If you’re bored of regular romance, if you like your romance with twists and turns, if you prefer your crime novels to have strong romantic themes, then you will enjoy Eve Rabi’s multi-genre books.
In her spare time, Eve likes to dance like no one is watching.
She also likes to eat like no one is watching. That's why she has to dance so often.