Confront Diane*

By the time you reach Steve's house, your pulse is pounding in your head. So many angry and hurtful words have been tumbling through your head ever since you left the hotel, but now that you're here you have no idea what you actually want to say to her. A part of you is hoping that she isn't even here, leaving you **** but to come to your senses and go back to your hotel room for a much-needed nap. That more rational part of your psyche sighs of despair though as you see Diane walk out the door with a box full of her things and carries them over to the open trunk of a recent model SUV with rental tags in the driveway. Her eyebrows are drawn together and her mouth is turned down in an angry scowl. In her wake, you see Steve leaning out the open door and angrily yelling something you can't quite make out at her. Everything about this scene says that this is a bad time. You know you should just go back to the hotel and wait until you're thinking more rationally, but you've already committed to this course of action and simply have to see it through.

Taking a deep breath, you start walking purposefully up the driveway. Steve spots you first. You see his eyes widen, and he quickly disappears inside the house. No doubt he wasn't expecting you to show up here of all places, and he certainly doesn't want to give anything away about the wild night you two shared two nights ago to your sister.

"Hey, Sis!" you shout as you approach her.

Diane looks up, surprised, but then her angry expression washes away with relief when she sees your face. "Suzy! What are you doing here? Look, this really isn't the best ti..."

Slap!

Her head swings around, exposing the bright red handprint welling up across her cheek. Your palm stings from the impact, but you barely notice in your anger. A look of surprise crosses her face as she looks back at you while bringing up her hand to touch her assaulted cheek.

"What the hell, Sis?!" she asks incredulously.

"Who did you sleep with on Thursday night?" you ask her.

"Shit," she whispers. Understanding dawns in her eyes. She looks away and bites her lip. Her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She's caught, and she knows it!

"How could you, Diane? How could you fuck my husband behind my back, your own sister's husband?! I hope it was good for you, you fucking slut!" The anger in your voice grows to a crescendo. She looks up at you, but instead of chastisement, you see defiance in her eyes as she responds to your rage with her own.

"You've got some nerve, you self-righteous bitch! How many times did I cover for you to Dave or any of your other boyfriends when you were off spreading your legs for someone else? I've been keeping your secrets and his for years now! You're calling me a slut? Maybe you should look in a fucking mirror!"

"Why you little... wait a minute," You're just about to unleash a fury-fueled rant on your sister when something she said caused your train of thought to switch tracks. "What do you mean 'my secrets and his'?"

"Shit," she whispers to herself again, biting her lip and looking away just as before. The pit of your stomach turns ice cold. You've already guessed the answer, but you can't stop yourself from asking her anyway.

"Diane, has Dave been cheating on me the whole time?" you ask as calmly as you possibly can while shaking with rage. She just continues to look away. "And you knew about it? The whole god-damn time?!"

"I'm not a fucking snitch!" she snaps back. "Yes, I slept with Dave; and yes, it was good for me. In fact, it was the best sex I've had in a long time, and I would do it again in a heartbeat! If that upsets you, then that's your fucking problem! If you want me to tell you all of his dirty little secrets that I know, then it's only fair that I tell him yours," a malicious grin crosses her face with that last sentence.

"You wouldn't dare!" you say through gritted teeth. Her threat catches you off-guard.

"Oh really, Sis? The way I see it, you have two choices. Either I can tell Dave in graphic detail about every single time you've cheated on him, or..." she lets the word hang infuriatingly, compelling you to ask her to compete the sentence.

"...or?" you ask.

"...or we could just forget this conversation ever happened, I keep your secrets safe, and I get to sleep with Dave whenever I damn well please."

You know you've been beaten. You want to yell. You want to scream. You want to slam her into the ground, but it won't do you any good. All you can do is accept her terms and simmer in your anger.

"Fine." is all you can manage to say.

"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to finish packing up my things." She flashes you a smug grin as she walks back up to the door and disappears inside the house.