After collapsing onto the hairy chest of her boss Henry Peterson, Margaret Thompson felt all her stress slowly disappear with every heavy breath that she took in rapidly. Breathing through her gasping mouth, she tried to get the stench of sweat and sex away from her nose. As she rested her smooth cheek at the base of his scratchy throat, beads of sweat from her forehead began to soak into her thick black curls. She would have to take a long hot shower, complete with her pricey peach shampoo to wash away the stench that now covered her body. As she ran her fingers down her hair, she almost gagged by how disgusting her greasy hair felt. She would need to double rinse with conditioner to ensure that her expensive hair cut was still intact. She hated it when Henry would grab her hair during sex, loosening her tight spiral of curls. What an asshole, she thought to herself, ruining my hair like that.
“Hey, you” he said, lifting her chin with his forefingers. Examining her face, which was lost in thought, “What’s wrong? Wasn’t that fun?” Giving her a long kiss on the lips. Henry is sweet man, rich, and very handsome. Rich being the keyword here for Margaret. The first time Henry confronted Margaret into the corner of the closet stock room while stroking her thigh, he had asked her permission if he could kiss her. She knew he was married and had a ten-year-old son, but she figured why not, it could be something to wake her up from her daily reruns of work, eating lunch alone in the mailroom, work until six, T.V turkey dinner on the couch with her cat Walter, and then bed by 10. She was bored and lonely and needed a good distraction. Being the other woman in an affair with her boss was like a lifetime TV movie for her, and she had always wanted to be in a starring role.
This wasn’t her first affair, not by far! If there’s one thing she loved more than her silky curls, it was making men fall head over heels in love with her, to the point where they couldn’t wait to leave their wives and place a shiny diamond right on her desperate finger. She liked knowing that she was desired so much, that even marriages would crumble for her. Tim, the cardiologist from Miami was her last victim. She had dated him for only a few months, but within those months she caused him to not only leave his wife but take his sick mother out of the nursing home just so he could afford to take Margaret out to the Bahamas for a weekend getaway. “She’ll be fine in the cheaper home,” she said, “besides, those nursing homes are rip-offs anyway. Why not spend that money on a weekend with me?” She would give him that look of desire and with one simple touch of his chest, he was a goner. Trapped in Margaret’s world of false fantasy until she grew bored and moved onto the next player.
Margaret didn’t care though, she never did. It’s not her fault they always have so many feelings, she thought. She always told them what she wanted from the start: an affair and nothing more, but they always ended up asking for more. They always ask her for love and marriage with a beautiful diamond ring. Hoping that she would belong to them forever. A perfect mixture of beauty, sex, and low maintenance. Though she always accepted the proposal, she eventually would end it before the wedding planned commenced. She would give them the same lines “Oh honey, it’s not you, it’s me. I just can’t commit to you the way you deserve. You should go back to your wife. Make things right!” And every single time, it worked. Her only request is that she can have a keepsake at the end of each affair, the engagement ring. She’s been proposed to so many times, her dresser top drawer has a secret compartment where she stores them all. If anyone were to have opened it up, their eyes would be blinded by the glimmering reflection from each diamond. Each ring represents one man, a man who thought Margaret was worth keeping, but only for a little while. Sometimes, she likes to put each ring on, one at a time, and imagine the life of Mrs.___. She rummages through her closet, matching the perfect outfit to each ring. These affairs are nothing more but a game a dress up for Margaret, but the game was beginning to get old, like herself.
Margaret was tired of her life, her job, and her body. At thirty-two years old, she constantly criticized her slightly pudgy stomach by poking it and pinching its extra layer of skin. She was incredibly vain about her appearance. Wherever she was, she had to look at herself in a mirror to judge whether she felt attractive for the day. If she walked by the third-floor office windows pushing the mail cart, she would very discreetly stare at her body as she passed by. Examining it and critiquing every extra inch of fat she saw. When she would have to go to the monthly luncheon in at the local Sonny’s with the entire office of Peterson & Sons Law, she would pick up the metal napkin holder and examine her chubby cheeks in the distorted reflection. Her addiction towards mirrors had taken over her life so much that she keeps a handheld mirror in her purse, the backseat of her car, and even in her kitchen. When asked by Henry, while having a beer late one night at Mickey’s Irish Pub in the ghetto section of Virginia Beach, why she was staring at the reflection of her face from the smooth side of a butter knife, she just said “I want to look nice for you.” He, of course, thought it was cute and just gave her a sly smile while laughing. But Margaret didn’t think it was funny. At that point she didn’t care as long as he paid the check and gave her compliments on how beautiful she was after lovemaking. She could think she looked terribly grotesque, but when a man said she was the sexiest woman he knew, her whole outlook changed. She felt better about her appearance and even felt a surge of confidence for a while. This was her assurance that she was attractive, always. She knew of no other way.
When asked by other coworkers around the office why she and Henry always winked at each other and smiled like idiots when passing by, Margaret just would say that she desperately needed a raise. Everyone laughed, as did Margaret, but amongst the laughter her face would freeze with fear as the blood rushed to her cheeks. What if someone caught us, she asked herself. Maybe Trevor down at fact checking heard us that one late night we were fucking in Henry’s office. I knew I heard footsteps in the hallway. Damn, now what am I going to do, she contemplated. She needed this job, plus she wasn’t finished with Henry. He was getting so close to saying those three magic words, so she couldn’t give up everything she had worked so hard for so easily.
Running her fingers through her thick, long hair she decided to go talk with Henry right away. She made some excuse to her supervisor that she forgot an important document for Mr. Henry Peterson and had to go deliver it to him before he became angry. As she rose from her rolling desk chair, her heels began to clack against the marbled floor, alerting every one of her presence. As she passed by the cubicles one by one, every head seemed to turn toward her and stare at her inquisitively, until she was out of sight and mind. She could have sworn she heard Trevor whisper to Diane in the desk next to his “I thought I smelled whore” as Diane seemed to erupt with giggles and snorting. Margaret just raised her head higher, as she reached her destination. When she finally reached Henry’s office door that read HENRY PETERSON, ATTORNEY AT LAW, she let out a heavy sigh before knocking and waiting for a “come in.” She opened the door to find Henry standing at his desk, reading from a vanilla folder. She let herself in and then closed the door behind her, smoothing down her pencil skirt and blocking the office from what was about to happen.
“Henry?” she said. He didn’t look up at her, but instead went around his desk, chair, proceeded to sit his large behind down. Still staring at the folder, he replied with a low “yes?” Margaret became irritated as she went up to his desk, placing both of her hands-on top of the smooth oak surface, staring at him with disbelief. “Henry, look at me God damn it.” As his head lifted, he realized it was her and smiled, placing the folder in front of him on the desk then linking his fingers together and placing them on top of the folder. “Margaret, how are you darling? Is there something I can do for you?” he said with a sly smile. “Henry,” she began, “something is wrong. I think people around the office are starting to catch onto us. Trevor keeps giving me dirty looks and I think it was him walking down the hallway that one night we were in here…you know…I’m just worried. I don’t want to lose everything I’ve worked so hard for here.”
Henry unlinked his fingers and then began to smooth his rough, frizzy hair back, scratching his scalp along the way. He stood up and began to pace around his office, slowly. “Henry?” she said. “Henry, listen I don’t know what you want to do but maybe we should take a break for–”
“What? No! I will not take a break. You are too important to me, I need you. There’s got to be something we can do…. Wait, I know. Let’s just stop having sex in the office. Hotels only. This way, no one will catch us” he said. Henry went over to Margaret, grabbing her face and brought it up to his, kissing it sweetly. He pulled back and looked into her bright eyes and told her how badly he wanted her tonight and every night. Margaret, though she was flattered, was angry. “Henry, I don’t understand what’s going on here anymore. I thought this was just for fun. I mean, you have a wife that you must go home to. I think maybe this has to stop,” she said. She had tossed her net and was starting to reel him in slowly, although he would never realize the game, he was being forced into playing.
As the words escaped her mouth, she immediately thought of how many times he fucked her at a classy hotel, and then went home to his wife and probably fucked her, too. As the images of this thought filled her mind, she was suddenly brought back to reality when Henry, grabbing both her arms, pushed them down to her sides. He pushed her entire body back against the wall, almost breaking the potted plant as he pressed his face next to hers. “Margaret, you can’t say things like that. I never just wanted to have fun. I’ve always wanted you, ever since you walked through my office door that one morning last august. You know I don’t love my wife, that my whole marriage is just a show for my son. If I had just worn a condom that night, I would have never had to marry that bitch. I love my son, that’s the only reason I stay with her, and I love you, you know that, right?” he said.
As she stared into his eyes, she began to feel dirty, almost like she done something incredibly wrong. She didn’t love Henry, at lease she was pretty sure she didn’t, but she felt so happy when he pleaded for her to stay. There was something in Henry’s voice that chilled her whole being. Like maybe he really did love he, but no how can that be? His words and his kiss at that moment made her feel special, even needed by him. She nodded her head, and then kissed him passionately. He began to unbutton his shirt, as her mouth began to move from his lips, to his neck, down his hairy chest, and finally to his pinstriped pants. As she looked up at him from the base of his zipper, she felt in control as she slowly unzipped and reached for him.
Margaret had only met Henry’s wife one time at a company picnic last September. She remembers seeing a skinny blonde with a pixie cut hairstyle and with almost no curve to her body whatsoever. If Margaret had only seen her from behind, she’d swear it was a young boy. Margaret and Henry were still only flirting at the time, and nothing serious had happened yet, though she was beginning to make plans for the next step in catching his attention. When she finally met Renee Peterson, she awkwardly shook her hand and remembered feeling her massive diamond wedding ring as its edges scratched her fingers. Margaret stared at the ring for the remainder of the picnic, watching it sparkle against the sun like beacon of light, thinking about what Renee must have to have to do in order to have gotten a ring that size. She must give him whatever he wants with sex to get a ring that huge, she thought.
As she sat on the checkered table cloth that covered the grass under the massive oak tree, providing shade from the blazing sun scorching her delicate scalp, she looked down the hill and saw a young boy playing soccer with some of the other coworker’s children. The boy looked just like Henry, and even had the same sweet smile. As he opened a can of soda and began to drink it in big gulps, she was reminded of the baby she had aborted. It would have been a baby boy, but her boyfriend at the time Mark, who was an engineer at Florida Power and Light, thought it would be best if she got rid of it. “I don’t think you want to be a mother right now, do you?” he told her in a panicky voice when she informed him of the pregnancy. She was stupid for missing her pill, but maybe this is what she needed in her life. Someone to love and have always by her side. She kept rubbing her still flat stomach, imagining what it would feel like to grow a baby inside of her. “I mean, let’s face it, you’re not fit to be a mother, Margaret. I mean God damn girl” he said, laughing as he slapped his thigh.
After the abortion, Mark gave her an engagement ring to save the relationship, but instead of marrying him, she took the ring and ran away to another city to start over, as usual. Only this time, she felt indifferent about the ring. Ever since, Margaret has moved from city to city, man to man with her feelings shut off, looking for God knows what. This pattern was the only thing that kept her sane and safe after her disappointment. As Henry suddenly got up and went over to his son and patted him on the shoulders, Margaret couldn’t help but think of how attractive Henry was, how much of a good man, how successful, and how lucky he was to have a son to be proud of. As Margaret began to chew on her lukewarm potato salad, she also began to ponder how to get Henry Peterson to fall in love with her. How big of a diamond would he give me if I made him fall in love with me, she thought.
One Saturday afternoon, as Margaret was lying on her bed with her cat Walter, who in return was lying on top of her belly purring with his eyes closed tightly, she began to wonder when Henry would call her for a meet up. She was bored, lonely, and horny. Ever since Henry had told her he loved her that day in the office, she had been secretly planning for a way to make Henry leave his wife, and marry her, so she could have that massive ring on her finger. Maybe this time she could go through with it, you know, and marry him. After all, she felt different with Henry. He wasn’t like the other men she had used. Sure, he was an idiot but the way he talked about his son made her want him badly. She started to obsess over the moment when Henry would propose. She had also become obsessed with possible wedding rings that he would choose for her, the woman he wanted to marry.
One day she was bored and walked into a Tiffany and Company store downtown, just to have some fun. She walked around the shining display cases of the store, pondering her options as she was seriously questioning each ring. When the sales clerk finally asked her if she needed any help, she replied with an “Oh, I don’t know yet. I’m helping my friend find a wedding ring.” As she pondered each ring, she couldn’t help but feel excitement for the possibility that one of these rings could be hers one day. She would finally have something that told the world hey, see this? I’m such a great catch that my husband couldn’t wait to blow an entire paycheck or more on this! She would extend her hand and proudly show off the rock that would rest on her tiny ring finger. When she finally found a ring that called to her, the employee took the ring out from the display case to show it to her. He grabbed her hand gently and placed the smooth opal cut ring onto her sweaty palm. She picked it up with her thumb and pointer finger, examining it closely. It was perfect. Out of all the rings she saw, this one ring had Mrs. Margaret Peterson written all over it. She thanked the employee and left hurriedly back to her car, with tears filled in her eyes as the black eyeliner ran down her smudgy face. She wanted that ring so badly, but she was nowhere close to having it yet. Ever since that day, she would look down at her empty finger and think of the sparkling jewel that once lay upon it. She had to start getting serious in her pursuit of Henry. Time was running out and she desperately wanted to win.
Lying on her bed watching bad reality TV shows, she began to imagine that ring on her finger for the millionth time when her cell phone began to vibrate. It was Henry. He texted her to meet him at the Westin Hotel and that he had a surprise for her, and for her to bring her a swimsuit. Sitting up and placing Walter on her pillow, she excitedly ran towards her dresser and pulled out her flattering bikini red and white polka dot swimsuit. It accentuated her large breasts nicely and she knew Henry wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off her once he saw her standing in this little number. She texted him I can’t wait to see you as she dropped the phone into her purse and changed quickly. She applied some of her Juicy Couture perfume to the naval of her neck and threw a sundress over herself before running out of the front door. Sliding into her four-door beige Kia, she adjusted herself in the driver’s seat and then put the car in reverse. As she turned up the volume on the stereo system to the latest top 40 hits, she began to ponder the surprise that awaits her. Was it time already? Had she already snatched him up and didn’t even realize it? As she investigated the rearview mirror, checking out her face one last time before she hit the road, she said to herself “damn, I am good” with a large smile.
When she entered the lavish Westin hotel, she was greeted by the doorman who gave her an awkward wink and wave of his hand before reaching the front desk. Margaret noticed a woman with bug-like black sunglasses covering most of her round face, sitting on the lobby satin sofa, angrily flipping through a magazine. She was rather plump, and her face was covered in acne and acne scars that resembled craters in the moon. That poor bitch, Margaret thought. From the back room came the front desk clerk, who smiled and greeted her with the usual “Hello Mrs. Peterson” and sly smirk on his face. She had come to this hotel so many times in the last month that he probably thought she was a whore, but she tried not to pay attention to his condescending smirk. She smiled at the boy as he handed her the key card to not their usual room of 612, but gave her instead the Honeymoon suite card, which would bring her all the way to the top floor to room 1216. Surprised that Henry had chosen this suite made her stomach twist in knots. Was this really happening? Oh my God she thought with pure excitement. She grabbed the card along with her purse as she began to walk toward the wide elevator doors. As she was checking out her body in the reflection, she noticed the bug-eyed woman was gone as she turned the corner. Oh well, she thought, as she pushed the 12th floor button. She couldn’t stop smiling as she stood there waiting for the doors to close and bring her to her destiny. Just as the elevator doors were about to close shut with ding, the bug-eyed woman quickly swiped her hand in front of the door sensors and stepped onto the elevator. She positioned herself near Margaret with a nervous expression on her face, almost creepily, like the Joker. Her lips quivered, and her forehead was dripping with sweat. She didn’t even move her head once. Instead she just stared straight ahead and gripped her bag, tightly. Margaret, feeling very awkward, asked “Ma’am, are you okay?” The woman just nodded her head and when the elevator stopped, she stepped off the elevator and onto the 12th floor along with Margaret. As Margaret turned the corner and down the hallway to the honeymoon suite, the woman was gone and out of sight. What in the hell was up with her? She thought. Pushing that woman’s image from her mind Margaret hurried toward the door and quickly slid in the card key, granting her instant access to the surprise which now stood before her.
Henry was standing by the doorway, attempting to cover the bed with rose petals when Margaret opened the door. He was holding a bouquet of bloomed red roses, which made the whole room smell sweetly. As she put down her purse, she noticed the rose petals all over the bed in the shape of a heart. There was a bucket filled with oval shaped ice cubes and what looked like an expensive bottle of champagne. Henry was smiling nervously as he handed her the bouquet, and she lifted it to her nose and took a big whiff, giving her a feeling of calmness after experiencing the elevator ride from an awkward hell.
“This is my gift to you. This is for everything that you’ve had to put up with me over the last year. I’m so happy that you stayed with me, even though I know it must have been difficult…. I love you Margaret. Happy anniversary my darling,” he said. And with the words “happy anniversary,” Margaret felt even worse. Had it already been a year since they first started this affair, she wondered. Had it taken this long to get him to say I love you? Maybe I’m not so good after all.
“Happy anniversary baby…I can’t believe how fast it’s gone by since we started seeing each other. This is so great,” she said trying to hold back her fears. What did this mean? she thought. As she began to walk around the room, she remembered the first time they had come to the hotel, back when she wasn’t sure what this affair would lead her to: a diamond ring, a mansion, maybe a new car. She remembered feeling so alive when he touched her and begged her to touch him. She was with another woman’s husband. She was with a man who desired her over his own wife; a wife who had the biggest and most impressive ring she had ever laid eyes upon. They had come to this same hotel and had rough sex for at least an hour. Henry was different then, he just wanted to fuck her and then go home to his wife, but now after one year, everything had changed. “Oh, and don’t worry, I have another even better surprise for you later” he said as he kissed her forehead. With those words, Margaret grew excited for the moment she had been waiting for a year. He loved her and wanted out of his marriage which thrilled Margaret and gave her hope for more. The game plans had changed, and Margaret felt this could be the beginning of something new and exhilarating. Most of all, she couldn’t wait to see the ring he had chosen just for her. Surely, it would be even bigger and better than his wife’s. He had told her so many times that Margaret is who he wanted to be with, not his wife.
As she slid out of her sandals, she hopped up onto the tall wooden framed bed and spread her body out over the smooth cotton sheets.
As she lay there, Henry told her to “wait just five minutes” for a real surprise. He hurried into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. As the sound of water from a large faucet filled the tub, Margaret began to think if this was the moment, she had worked so hard for. She wanted to know if she could finally check into a hotel under “Mrs. Henry Peterson” and not be thought of as a whore by the desk clerk. As the sound of the running water came to a halt, light classical music began to come from behind the bathroom door. Margaret’s anxiety began to grow as each second passed by. As the door cracked open, releasing remnants of steam into the bedroom, there Henry stood with a box in his hand, a very tiny black box. The box that contained her every hope and desire. Margaret immediately propped herself up onto her elbows and swung her feet over the side of the bed, staring at the little black box, hungrily. Her mind began to spin wildly as she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Could this be it? He’s still married to his wife…he must really want me badly like he said! He is in love with me!
Henry walked over towards the bed and stood there in front of her, placing one hand on her knee and then grabbing her hand and placing the tiny box in her now anxiously sweaty palm. She stared at the box before picking it up with her fingers and slowly cracking open the snapping lock to reveal the one reward she had been waiting for, the one gift she had been so desperately craving! … A silver heart shaped necklace! Wait…what? This isn’t a ring, it’s a necklace. A man can’t propose with a necklace, she thought, confused.
Margaret’s mouth was open with a perplexed look on her face when Henry asked “Do you like it? The jeweler helped me pick it out yesterday. I thought it was perfect for you.” As he snatched the box out of her hand, he took out the necklace and unhinged its clasp. He then placed his hands underneath her arms and lifted her up off the bed and onto the ground, where she was barely standing. She felt like all the air had been forced from her lungs. As if she had been hit by the dodgeball in the final round. She was out of the game and she had lost. He pulled back her massive long curls and let the necklace fall gently over her neck as he clasped it shut. She reached for the heart pendent, feeling the groove of the silver with her fingers. She was at an utter loss for words.
She was disappointed, and confused, mostly confused. She didn’t understand why she was sad, because she had known what this was: an affair with her married boss. But the outcome wasn’t normal. There was no ring, no declaration to leave his wife and wait to marry her instead. Was that why she felt so disappointed? Or was it because she had finally hoped for something more with a man. She now wanted more and the one guy she wanted to have it with did not want it with her, or at least he didn’t show it. She wanted him to want her entirely. She wanted to be able to show her ring off to the world and proclaim that she was, in fact, so desired that a man left his wife for her and even gave her a better ring. This necklace wasn’t a sign for love or desire to have her. It was a sign for how much of a good whore she was. He then began to kiss her neck and slowly yank to take off her sundress. As the dress lifted over her head, as it had so many times before, she felt very uncomfortable. She didn’t want to have sex, she just wanted to grab her stuff, pull the necklace from her neck and throw it at him, and then get the hell out of there. Instead, she just stood there, motionless. She looked toward the wall and there staring back at her was her reflection. As she had done so many times before, she simply studied herself. She turned away in disgust as she could no longer look at herself the same way. She was not Margaret Thompson anymore. She had become what everyone calls “the other woman.” She didn’t want this lifestyle anymore. She wanted to be truly treasured, like a diamond in the rough.
He lifted her up into his arms and carried her to the large steaming Jacuzzi tub. As the warm water hit her toes, feet, legs, and then stomach, she felt as though a weight had been lifted. Okay, so it’s not a ring. Maybe next time he’ll give me the ring… right? She thought. The water cleansed her of her feelings of disgust as she sat there in the Jacuzzi, just staring down at the necklace, gliding it along her small fingers. Henry took off his pants excitedly and jumped into the water, splashing her as he sat down. The look on his face was of pure joy as he switched on the jet stream, which made the water bubble with fury. He let out a loud “ahhhhh” as he grabbed the bottle of champagne and popped it open, spilling some of the golden liquid into the Jacuzzi. He poured her a glass and handed it to her. She grabbed the glass and remembered drinking champagne the first time they had sex. Back then, she couldn’t wait to get drunk and let him strip her naked. Now, she just wanted to go home to her cat Walter and cry into her pillow and try to forget the past year. Everything that she had worked so hard for, and all she got was a silver necklace.
Just as Henry was inching his way closer to Margaret’s side, a loud banging came from the front door. “What the hell was that?” he said.
Before he could even step out of the tub, the sound of the door colliding with the side of the wall made Margaret jump and Henry look on in surprise as she entered, the woman with the bug-eyed sunglasses. She stood in the doorway to the bathroom, just staring at the scene which was taking place. Henry looked at her in shock and screamed at her to “get out.” She reached for the glasses and threw them off her now revealed face. It was Renee, Henry’s wife. She had changed since the picnic, by about 30 pounds, a head full of shaggy hair, and a face covered in acne scars. Tears filled Renee’s eyes as her black mascara began to run down her face.
“Why Henry? How could you!? I thought you loved me!? You told me you weren’t having an affair, you are lying bastard! Why?!” she screamed, sobbing into her hands.
Margaret just sat in the water, watching the scene unfold before her. Henry quickly stepped out of the tub and tried to reason with her that “this wasn’t what it looked like” as Renee moved her head from side to side, pleading for him to stop. “It’s over,” she said as she turned toward Margaret and called her a slut. “You want him, you can have him, you bitch” she said. She slid off the massive ring that Henry had given her, then threw the ring into the Jacuzzi as the bubbles engulfed it. Renee ran out of the bathroom, as Henry ran after her pleading for her to “understand.” As Margaret watched the ring drop into the water, fear overcame her as she heard the ring sink to the bottom with a light clink. She dived head first into the water and began to frantically search for the ring, the ring she deserved and worked so hard for.
Finally, it was hers! Henry was free to give her that ring and she truly had earned it! As she clawed her fingers onto the bottom of the Jacuzzi floor, she felt something tugging on her hair, pulling her down into the bottom of the tub. She tried to free herself from its grasp, but it wouldn’t let go. She dropped the ring and tried desperately to swim upward toward the surface, but she couldn’t. The bubbles of the streaming water made her vision unclear. As she let out her final breath, she breathed in the soapy water that surrounded her. She looked toward the last glimpse of a shimmer, which was the shining ring. She extended her arm and placed the palm of her hand over it, protecting it from anyone who would dare try to take it from her.
As she stared at the shimmer, her mind flashed back to that day she found out she was pregnant, it was before Mark made her have an abortion, right now she knew her life would change forever. The cheap pregnancy test strip was sitting on her bathroom counter, with positive signs congratulating her, and she felt excited. As she stared into the mirror, she rubbed her smooth belly and smiled at knowing that she finally had something that belonged to her. She had the recognition of worth she so desperately craved. It was all hers now and no one could ever take that away from her.
BIO: Bethany Bruno is a born and raised Florida Writer. She attended Flagler College, in St. Augustine, FL, where she earned her B.A in English. She later attended the University of North Florida for her M.A. She has worked as a Ghost Tour Guide, Library Specialist, English Teacher, and a Park Ranger with the National Park Service. Her work has been previously published in The Flagler Review, Lunch Ticket Magazine, Paragon Press, Underwood Press, Foliate Oak Literary Magazine, Ripples in Space, Metafore Magazine, and Bluntly Magazine. She's currently working on her debut novel, “From the Passenger Seat.”
