Nanny was a blessing, and like any good traditional nanny, she not only did she take excellent care of the children, she also slept with Husband. Wife wasn’t too happy about that, but with a vagina ripped apart and looming pnd, she didn’t feel like she had much of a say in the matter.
And to be honest, it was a relief, to be freed of Husband’s sexual attention. Her torn vagina had not stopped from him from seeking intercourse with her, and when his attention turned to young pretty un-torn Nanny, he had actually become much kinder and nicer to her, almost reminding her of their early days of romance, such a different time from this hellish landscape of milk and blood and poo and pee and milky barf and ceaseless pain. Add to that betrayal.
She looked at Nanny, scooping up Toddler with one hand, doing something with Baby with the other. Baby fussed. Wife frowned, “What are you doing to him?”
Nanny glanced at her “Just feeling to see if he needs a change”. Wife didn’t reply, just stood there watching the pretty young girl play with children. Nanny looked over at Wife. “Do you want me to get you anything?”
Death, thought Wife. I want you to get me death. She didn’t say that out loud, but didn’t leave either, just continued standing there watching. She didn’t quite know who she wanted Death for, herself maybe, and also wrapping it up as a beautiful gift and handing it to Nanny and Husband. And the children? She tried to push the image of her children out. God she was hurting. She was lucky to have a Nanny, a good Nanny, she should rest and heal but she was fixed to the spot. Nanny and the children moved away, Nanny obviously trying to get away from her stare, feeling guilty.
She had to prove it. She had seen Husband touch Nanny’s slim waist and the small of her back, her hair. But she wasn’t sure yet. Actually, she was sure, but she had to know. Were they doing it in the house? Maybe they were drugging her, god knows she had enough pills to mess around with. Maybe they were drugging the kids too? She had to stop them, before they did any further harm to her babies. She thought about different scenarios.
That night was the night. She died painlessly, and it had been quite easy, after all, as he had been thinking about it so much, planning every detail to perfection. All his hatred had been channeled into one perfect murder-plan, and finally he was rid of her, her pain, her anger, her smell, oh her awful smell. Staring at her lifeless corpse, pure joy surged through his body, it was all his now, the house, the children, and better than that, he was free from her and her accusing stare for ever and never had to smell her ever again.