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Richard's Wife
#WritcoStoryPrompt45
Write a story based on this famous excerpt from The Night Slowly Came by Kate Chopin:
I am losing my interest in human beings; in the significance of their lives and their actions. Someone has said it is better to study one man than ten books. I want neither books nor men; they make me suffer…
© All Rights Reserved
Why have I lost interest you may ask? When did I lose my passion for writing, for the art of story telling, my one and only modest talent that I've spent years studying, crafting and perfecting? It was the exact same day that I saw my life's work displayed on a best selling book shelf. I should have been celebrating a long deserved vacation in Oahu, but instead I was having a mid life crisis at a bookstore in La Guardia.
It's quite ironic actually, he tried to persuade me that our marriage was ending because I was too cold, distant, and emotionally closed off, but deep down, I knew he was cheating on me right in my own house. I knew, but it was a comfortable lie to believe.
A new intern named Francesca whom he spent extra time mentoring because she just lost her parents and was so young and new to our country. I questioned why he was spending so much time with her and he laughed it off saying that his interest in her was fatherly.
The truth can be obvious, but a lie is easier to accept.
The bastard stole my story, my science fiction saga, 27 years in the making. Unimaginitive Richard Runsicker, my editor, my high school sweetheart, father to my three children, and husband for 20 years decided to plagiarize my brilliant Novel as his own.
How did I allow such a thing to occur you ask? Why would I allow Richard to have an affair with a 21 year old girl in my very own house and simultaneously allow that same cheating womanizer to steal my work and take credit for it all?
Because sometimes when you have felt so neglected in a loveless marriage you just want to feel any kind of glimmer of warmth that even slightly resembles love, support, even partnership that you willingly close your eyes.
Our nest was empty with my two oldest in college and the youngest already married, and I knew it was only a matter of time before Richard would be on to a new affair. But with the kids gone from home, he really had no reason to continue to stay. I was biding my time desperately. In retrospect, I didn't think I could survive on my own. Without being Richards wife and with my children all grown up, I felt like I had no identity, no purpose. Writing was my escape, but it was also my dream that one day my novel would be successful and so would our marriage.
In reality, I knew that he resented me.I had an inheritance from my aunt that allowed me to focus on writing and raising the kids while he continued working at an editing job that he hated. in all honesty, he married me because of my inheritence, because it provided him the means to enter new social circles. He used me for my status, and he made me feel guilty for being a little rich girl, for the inheritance, for writing, and for being able to spend time with the kids. And after 27 years of resentment and guilt, my sense of self esteem only existed in my work and with my children.
That all changed when he heard how successful my book was going to be. he started to pretend to love me again. He started to act as if he believed in me, and I was so desperate for his love that I let myself believe the lies.
The money from the inheritance my Aunt left me was almost gone, and while he made a decent salary as a managerial editor, his spending habit had become increasingly out of control.
That is when he heard some offers that were coming in my emails from publishers for the first book of the series. Suddenly Richard took a renewed interest in my work. He told me that publishers wouldn't offer as much money for a Science Fiction novel for a female author, so he convinced me to use my initials R. Runsicker and insisted that he orchestrate all communication with potential publishers.
When I was about to accept the offer for 500 thousand dollars for the first book, he insisted that more changes needed to be made to reach a larger audience. He said that I should take a break, visit my family in Vermont to re work the ending while he worked out a more lucrative deal through a connection he had with a colleague from an international publishing company in London.
There I was in the airport bookstore happily contemplating how close I was to finally reaching success in my marriage and my career when I saw my book on the best sellers shelf with Richard Runsicker in black bold lettering flashimg before my eyes. I grabbed the book and read the preface; This novel is dedicated to Francesca my muse, who has awakened my true passion, and desire. You gave me the courage to pursue my dreams.
That last sentence knocked the wind out of me. My solar plexus burned, my heart raced out of control. I gasped for air trying to catch my breath.
© betha6273
Write a story based on this famous excerpt from The Night Slowly Came by Kate Chopin:
I am losing my interest in human beings; in the significance of their lives and their actions. Someone has said it is better to study one man than ten books. I want neither books nor men; they make me suffer…
© All Rights Reserved
Why have I lost interest you may ask? When did I lose my passion for writing, for the art of story telling, my one and only modest talent that I've spent years studying, crafting and perfecting? It was the exact same day that I saw my life's work displayed on a best selling book shelf. I should have been celebrating a long deserved vacation in Oahu, but instead I was having a mid life crisis at a bookstore in La Guardia.
It's quite ironic actually, he tried to persuade me that our marriage was ending because I was too cold, distant, and emotionally closed off, but deep down, I knew he was cheating on me right in my own house. I knew, but it was a comfortable lie to believe.
A new intern named Francesca whom he spent extra time mentoring because she just lost her parents and was so young and new to our country. I questioned why he was spending so much time with her and he laughed it off saying that his interest in her was fatherly.
The truth can be obvious, but a lie is easier to accept.
The bastard stole my story, my science fiction saga, 27 years in the making. Unimaginitive Richard Runsicker, my editor, my high school sweetheart, father to my three children, and husband for 20 years decided to plagiarize my brilliant Novel as his own.
How did I allow such a thing to occur you ask? Why would I allow Richard to have an affair with a 21 year old girl in my very own house and simultaneously allow that same cheating womanizer to steal my work and take credit for it all?
Because sometimes when you have felt so neglected in a loveless marriage you just want to feel any kind of glimmer of warmth that even slightly resembles love, support, even partnership that you willingly close your eyes.
Our nest was empty with my two oldest in college and the youngest already married, and I knew it was only a matter of time before Richard would be on to a new affair. But with the kids gone from home, he really had no reason to continue to stay. I was biding my time desperately. In retrospect, I didn't think I could survive on my own. Without being Richards wife and with my children all grown up, I felt like I had no identity, no purpose. Writing was my escape, but it was also my dream that one day my novel would be successful and so would our marriage.
In reality, I knew that he resented me.I had an inheritance from my aunt that allowed me to focus on writing and raising the kids while he continued working at an editing job that he hated. in all honesty, he married me because of my inheritence, because it provided him the means to enter new social circles. He used me for my status, and he made me feel guilty for being a little rich girl, for the inheritance, for writing, and for being able to spend time with the kids. And after 27 years of resentment and guilt, my sense of self esteem only existed in my work and with my children.
That all changed when he heard how successful my book was going to be. he started to pretend to love me again. He started to act as if he believed in me, and I was so desperate for his love that I let myself believe the lies.
The money from the inheritance my Aunt left me was almost gone, and while he made a decent salary as a managerial editor, his spending habit had become increasingly out of control.
That is when he heard some offers that were coming in my emails from publishers for the first book of the series. Suddenly Richard took a renewed interest in my work. He told me that publishers wouldn't offer as much money for a Science Fiction novel for a female author, so he convinced me to use my initials R. Runsicker and insisted that he orchestrate all communication with potential publishers.
When I was about to accept the offer for 500 thousand dollars for the first book, he insisted that more changes needed to be made to reach a larger audience. He said that I should take a break, visit my family in Vermont to re work the ending while he worked out a more lucrative deal through a connection he had with a colleague from an international publishing company in London.
There I was in the airport bookstore happily contemplating how close I was to finally reaching success in my marriage and my career when I saw my book on the best sellers shelf with Richard Runsicker in black bold lettering flashimg before my eyes. I grabbed the book and read the preface; This novel is dedicated to Francesca my muse, who has awakened my true passion, and desire. You gave me the courage to pursue my dreams.
That last sentence knocked the wind out of me. My solar plexus burned, my heart raced out of control. I gasped for air trying to catch my breath.
© betha6273
