I’m the villain.
Even if I didn’t do anything wrong.
I am the villain.
For example, here’s a short story for you:
I was barely up and still in my pajamas when the family of a client came by the clients house very early and unannounced, for a reason I can’t remember.
What I do remember is how I was in the kitchen with my client’s daughter and her husband. I was wearing a white v-neck t-shirt with my black bra underneath.
The husband and I were making small talk when all of a sudden, while his wife’s back was turned, he sprayed my chest with water from the nozzle at the kitchen sink. He was smirking at me when he said “Oh no! What happened?!?” I gasped. His wife turned around to find me shocked, soaked and my black bra on full display.
She angrily said, “Allison, go change”
I stood there, confused, in shock, attempting to process what was happening.
Did he just spray me?
Is she seriously mad at me?
What the fuck is happening?
I turned on my heel and ran to the staff bedroom. I shut the door and looked down at my shirt.
Things started to click.
Was he coming on to me when he weirdly stopped by to show me his new truck last week?
Did he think I was flirting when I was just being nice?
No matter the pieces of the puzzle I was starting to put together, he assaulted me. Right?
A few weeks later, a large amount of money went missing in the clients house. The only two people who could have taken it were apparently me and this new girl.
I got blamed, I had to pay the money back AND I got fired. That was back in like, 2012-2013. FYI – I didn’t steal the money.
It wasn’t till 2019 when I learned that I actually got fired because the wife thought I was trying to break up her marriage and steal her husband.
It’s nutty this is my trope.
The villain.
A husband/boyfriend stealing jezebel.
The Confessional 
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