Page 32 of Cursing My Cheating Husband

“I want to see him as broken as he made me feel. I want to take all the pain and humiliation and rage I’m carrying and give it back to him. I shouldn’t be stuck with it.”

“And you can do that. You can make his entire existence into a monument to regret.”

I was talking faster. My energy was rising. “I want to take everything from him. His money, his pride, his dignity, his future.”

“Yes!” Astrea exclaimed giddily. “Break him down until he’s nothing but a sad cautionary tale for all the men who think they can betray women and get away with it!”

The sense of power building inside me right now was deeply clarifying. This was exactly what I needed to move forward with strength. A simple divorce was not enough. I had to grind him down until there was nothing left but the barest shadow of the man he once was.

The night of the curse, Maddox had barged out of our house still defiant and ready to fight. That was unacceptable. I couldn’t truly move on from him until I had reduced him to crawling and begging on the floor.

If Maddox thought he was suffering already just from the curse… he had no idea how much worse was waiting for him.

CHAPTER 14

MADDOX

“So, what brings you in today?”

Okay, I had practiced this. I had my cover story. Stress and overwork. That happened to other guys. Regular guys. It was plausible.

“So… I mean… it’s probably just… but I was wondering… I’m stressed… the job…” Oh fuck. This was the worst possible start. Talk like a man, damn it!

Sitting across from me in the exam room, Dr. Milton was patiently waiting for me to sort myself out. He was well into his fifties, and you could see his decades of experience in his perfectly relaxed bedside manner.

I forced myself to just spit it out. “I’vebeenhavingsomeerectiledysfunction.” The words rushed out in one strangled, mashed-together sound.

“I’m sorry?”

Take a breath. Talk normally, idiot. “I’ve been having some… erectile dysfunction.” As I finally got the words out, I was keenly aware of how pitiful my body language was. Slumped low in the chair, shoulders sagging, my head fidgeting and looking everywhere in the room except at the man I was speaking to.

I had been expecting him to suppress a snicker or something, and I was at least spared that indignity. Probably silly to have feared that. Obviously, doctors knew how to maintain an unruffled demeanor with people’s embarrassing medical issues.

Of course, I was sure that inside, Dr. Milton was guffawing. If he’d allowed himself, he would have been slapping the table in hysterics.

But outwardly, his only response was to pepper me with follow-up questions, typing my responses into his notes.

I knew notes would be taken, but I hadn’t quite thought it through. Who else was going to see these? And computer records could be hacked. Anyone could get at this information!

I fought the impulse to just get up and walk out the door. Possibly smashing the computer as I went. Fuck, I felt pent up.

“How many occurrences?”

I flinched. “Five.”

“Over what period of time?”

“The last week.”

“All with the same partner?”

Driving right in on that point. “All different.”

Dr. Milton’s eyes flicked to my file. “Your wife and four additional partners?”

I sank deeper into misery. “None of them was my wife.”

Despite how sure I was he wanted to reprimand me for my adulterous ways (join the club), Dr. Milton maintained flawless medical composure. “Did you experience any other unusual symptoms around the onset of the ED?”