Monday, December 15, 2014

Emile summons me to the apartment Saturday, when I arrived there were a few boxes by the door, in them were my things. He was there and he told me that we were through.
I asked why and he said, "You've humiliated me, you didn't tell me that you were a pute." "You didn't ask," I replied, you should have vetted me better." That being a dig that wounded, as he has bragged about how good his companies are at selecting employees. "You told me that you sought me out knowing that I had been a mistress, didn't it occur to you that I was not as pure as fresh snow when I agreed so quickly to take your money?" He sputtered and went on that he was now the laughing stock of Paris because he squired me around the city. I then pointed out that I wasn't the one who sought a promotion from, "piece of ass on the side, to substitute wife," that he had insisted on that. I guess is wife is enjoying this all in Nice.

We argued for a while longer till my taxi came and I loaded the boxes with the assistance of the driver. At home I licked my wounds and wrote him a check for the unearned December stipend.

Sunday I joined a friend and her two young children to view the Christmas displays in the Galeries Lafayette and the other department stores, finishing with hot chocolate at Berthillon on I'lle Saint Louis. We had a nice day.



Blogger J said...

I'm sorry it had to end this way. And so suddenly and ignobly. I know you move on quickly, but still it doesn't seem appropriate.


4:47 AM  
Blogger Kim said...

That was not an unusual ending. That's why the first of Kim's rules for being a mistress/sugar baby is to get it in cash. If I has moved into that apartment as he desired, he would have simply changed the locks and I'd be scrambling for a place to live and fighting with him about what was my personal property and what he gave me.

Have a great holiday Jean.



4:11 PM  

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