“Well, Ben… let’s have it… this well-planned break-up speech. You can skip the ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ part because it’s definitely you.” My wife’s lips twisted into a vicious sneer as she leaned against the toilet and glared at me.
Angela must’ve finally gotten the fucking hint because I heard her feet scurry back down the hall towards the backyard where she was, hopefully, retrieving her clothes.
I shifted awkwardly and tried to search for an excuse that could explain what my wife had witnessed. There wasn’t one. She’d seen too much to be tricked into believing that it was a misunderstanding.
I am so fucked.
“Mel, baby, I’m so sorry.” I started and put my hands together in a praying motion. She scoffed and then gagged over the toilet again.
Jesus, she looks terrible.
“This was the first time…”
Lie.
“It didn’t mean anything…”
Truth. It never does.
“It was a mistake…”
What was I thinking letting her into our home…
“This is a terrible speech.” Melanie interrupted dryly.
I stared at her, temporarily speechless.
What the fuck do I say to that?
“Benji, I’m going to go…” Angela called from down the hall.
I didn’t even turn my head to look at her. I kept my eyes locked on my wife as I responded.
“Good.”
“Call me?”
That made me look.
I spun my head in surprise. She had put her skirt and shoes back on but was still wearing my shirt.
Great, so hers was going to be lying around somewhere for my wife to find.
Was she serious?
“Are you stupid?” I croaked out before I could stop myself.
Melanie snorted and muttered something about peas in a pod.
“Benji, why are you being cruel?” Angela pouted.
“Get out of my house.” I gritted out.
How had she hidden her craziness so well?
This was definitely going to be a disaster at home AND at work.
“Scurry along Angel, I’ll return him to you in one piece as soon as he’s packed his belongings.” My wife called out, unhelpfully.
