Larry was right, Holly was no longer my wife. She was just the woman who was leaving me. I turned on the cameras each evening when Kevin came home. Each afternoon when Holly left, I went into the house and replaced all of the batteries. I didn't want to run the chance of missing something because of a low battery. I was inured to what each camera brought me. The camera in the foyer showed that Holly always took all of her clothes off at the door. In the house, she was always naked. Every evening she greeted him at the door completely naked except for a pair of acrylic heels. Her hair and makeup was always perfect. The routine was always the same. She handed him a beer then immediately went to her knees. My naked pregnant wife gave that fat black fucker a blow job every single night. Judging from the fervor she put into milking his cock, you'd think she was the one being pleasured instead of him. One evening, two nights before I was due to come home, I saw him give a slight wag of his. After the meal, they sat on their respective twin beds. ‘You look glum,’ Benjamin observed. ‘I’m worried about Monday. We will have plenty of people at the rally on Sunday, but the crowd for dinner Monday with the state legislatures looks sparse. Do you have any lovers who can come on short notice?’ ‘All my lovers will be on the beach showing off their torsos on Memorial Day.’ ‘Can I at least call them and see if they are free?’ Benjamin looked up at the ceiling with a grimace. ‘Sure. I brought my contact folder, like you asked. It’s in the side pouch of my suitcase.’ Isabella dug the folder out from the suitcase. Benjamin looked out the window while she proceeded to call his lovers one by one to ask if they could make it to a political diner on Memorial Day. Two dozen calls later, she paused. ‘514? I don’t recognize that area code. Where is it?’ ‘I don’t know. What’s the guy’s name?’ ‘Patrick.’ ‘Patrick, I met him last fall in Manhattan. Don’t call him. We didn’t hook up.’ ‘Someone.
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