“You lied to us and cheated us, and you’re going to get sued, you self-entitled little brat!” my wife spat out, and Mila looked like she was about to break.
And because I was a fool, I stepped in front of her, shielding her from Monique, protecting her with my body, but it only served to enrage my wife more.
“And you!” she screamed. “You bastard! You fucking snake. You said she’d do it. You said it was a done deal. You goddamn liar. You almost had me thinking you were human, but now I see how cold-blooded you really are. You never even wanted a baby, did you?”
“Monique! Who are you right now? You know that’s not true. You’re upset and I get that, but you have no right to act like such a fucking bitch!” I took a sharp intake of breath, regretting the words as soon as they were out of my mouth, out in the open for everyone to hear.
Her eyes bulged, and she grabbed her purse from the kitchen table. She glared at us as she stomped towards the front door.
“You two may not be related by blood,” she spat out, “but you sure are alike. Two deceitful, lying snakes.”
She spun on her heels, leaving Mila and me in the ruins of our arrangement.
My stepsister was shaking behind me, but I still had an obligation, and as long as Monique wore that gold band on her ring finger, I had to fulfil my promise to her. In for the good and the bad, for better and for worse, right?
Without another thought, I left Mila behind, not daring to look over my shoulder. I knew it would break my determination to do the right thing –if I even spoke to her right then, I’d immediately want to comfort her. I was a married man, and even though Mila was family and possibly much more, Monique was my main concern - she had to be.
I rushed out the door after Monique and spotted her car already speeding off down the road. I got into my truck as fast as possible, and I ignored the muffled crying coming from inside the house, even though it was tearing my heart in half.
There would be a time I’d be able to make it up to her, but for now I had to follow Monique. I peered through blurry eyes as I drove, trying to locate my wife, but I’d lost her. Her little red sports car was nowhere to be found. I couldn’t give up, though, and admit that it was all over, so I drove all over the city to the usual spots – her parents’ house, her friends’ places, everywhere, ringing her cell constantly but getting nothing but her voicemail. I was going to call it quits when I pulled into the parking lot of a gas station and got a six-pack of beer.
I seldom drank, but it felt like a good time to start.
Just as I was returning to the truck, I saw a familiar shade of vibrant red out of the corner of my eye. It belonged to a small car parked at the motel next to the gas station. Furrowing my brows, I dropped the beer onto the passenger side of the truck and sneaked over to the motel, my agitated heart already beating in anticipation.
It was indeed Monique’s car, not just the same design and colour, but the plates as well. I didn’t see her anywhere near it, and I grew worried as I scanned the area for a sign of her.
I caught a movement in my peripheral vision. My eyes focused on a car farther down in the parking lot. Two people sat in it, arms around each other, kissing, oblivious to their surroundings.
The thickness in my throat returned, and I dreaded what I was about to see. My legs felt like they were filled with lead, heavy and spent, but I advanced; I needed to know for sure.
The car was expensive, luxurious, the type that executives or lawyers preferred - and I sighed as I recognised its owner.
I stared a little longer, in a haze, at the writhing couple until it became clear to me that my world had turned upside down, never to be the same ever again.
The woman who was sucking the man’s face off in the car was none other than my wife. And the man tearing at her clothes, yanking down her bra strap, was her boss: Alan.
I’d met him a few times at dinner parties, and though he’d been perfectly polite, he’d probably been laughing at me as he fucked my wife behind my back this whole time.
How long had it been going on? I questioned. When had she stopped touching me? All those late night meetings, work emergencies… how had I been so oblivious to what was going on in my own marriage?
The realisation dawned on me that the pain I expected to feel as I watched another man caress and fondle my wife right in front of my eyes was only a dull ache. Surely, I should’ve been pulling them out of the car, confronting them? Yelling in their faces?
But no, I stared at my wife dry-humping her boss only hours after fighting with me about a baby we could not have, and I saw our future fading into nothingness, aware that that chapter of my life was over and done with.