Anouk and Bas seem to have it all done: they have a good business, a nice house and nice twins (15). They form the perfect picture, until Anouk and Bas suddenly come across diametrically opposite each other. They share their story weekly, viewed from both sides. This week, Bass.
“ Hi Bas, you got a minute?” Without waiting for my answer, Marga, the cleaning lady at the brokerage office, enters my room and closes the door. She waddles at my desk, slides a chair back and sits down with a sigh. “How long have we known each other?” , she asks, and then she answers herself: “Soon about 25 years old. I see you coming in here like a little girl. Yeah, youve gotten a lot older. Less hair, too.”
She laughs. That gives me the opportunity to break through her word stream: “How can I help you, Marga?” “Well, look, Ive been walking with this for some years and Ive seen things happen: how you got knowledge of Anouk while you were still living together. That you were dating that blonde intern when Anouk was pregnant. Whats her name again, Kielie? Oh, no, Kailyn. Kailyn with her cold poop. Then Roxy came, then Sara, and last week it was Roxy again.”
She falls silent and looks at me through. I dont feel like going into this and look back unmoved. “Yes, I dont have my eyes in my pocket. But Sara apparently does.” I shoot up, “What do you mean?”
“ Well, I mean, does Sara know youre still doing it with Roxy?” No, of course Sara doesnt know. She doesnt even know Ive been dating Roxy, let alone know Im still with Roxy. I keep my mouth shut and Marga talks about how she came in last week and only saw light in my room. That she first peeked through the slats and then my name shouted and turned on the light in the hallway. I keep looking at her silently. Wheres this conversation going?
“ So I thought: good friends, but Ive been keeping your secrets for a long time now. Actually, Im your treasure chest. And there may be something against that, dont you think? I do have a small amount in my head, but of course I would like to give you the opportunity to make an opening offer. In the end, thats your job.”
That hard laugh again. Marga not only has knowledge, she also has evidence, she says: photos, sound recordings and even video. “Youre bluffing,” I answer. “Stop this crap or Ill turn you in to the police because I wont be blackmailed.” “Whatever you want,” says Marga. She lifts herself up and as she runs away, she lispelled: “But remember, its faster and less harmful to buy me off. Then you also get the bonus: I know something about Anouk which is useful in your divorce.”
My lawyer has bad news: Anouk does not go into my co-parent and co-house proposal: “She wants the children full time and the house too,” he explains. “But she wanted co-parenting. That is why I let you make this proposal,” I exclaim. “I know, but apparently she changed her mind again. So we start over again.”
He sighs tired. “And then something else, Bas.” I look at him questioning. “When I took your case, I thought we could settle it quickly. Thats why I did it for a low price. I will not be able to do that if I have to make another proposal now. Im sorry, but I really need to send an additional quote.”
I nod. I understand this. Divorce costs money. How would Anouk arrange this? That aunt shes going to isnt cheap. Would she get money from her parents?
With a heavy mind, I get to Sara. I just want one more thing: no more thinking. Just feel it. Fortunately, Sara is still trying to make up for her drunk action on the childrens birthday. Shes like laundry in my hands. As soon as she hears me, shell come down the hall to greet me. Shes wearing a silk dressing gown. Underneath, shes exposed.
I pull her on the belt towards me; unbutton her coat and grab her chest. She spout her lips to kiss me, but I turn my face away rough. Im not in the mood for kissing. I want to be satisfied. Now! Im gonna push her down on her knees, and then Im gonna zip my pants open. With my coat still on, Ill take my member out of my pants.
Hes already hard. She eagerly takes him in her mouth. – Delicious. As I get week in my knees with pleasure, my phone beeps. Ill fish it out of my jacket pocket. Its Marga. She sends a video of me in a compromising position on my bed in the gazebo. “Out of the Treasury, “she writes. “And theres more…”