“I’ll get a hotel room for the night but tomorrow we are going to talk.” I straightened my posture and decided to take charge again. “I’m not moving out of my home or losing my wife.”
She scoffed and shoved past me as she stormed down the hallway to the kitchen. I followed after her, needing to hear her agree to talk tomorrow. I froze when I saw her rigid posture as she stared at the island countertop.
Angela had left her hair clip in the middle of the otherwise empty counter.
“I didn’t…” I started to say, but she spun around to face me and cut me off.
“What surfaces in this house need to be burned?”
“Mel…” I groaned, “None. We—” her nostrils flared. “She wasn’t in the house—not like that—not with me.” I finished weakly, stumbling over my words because there didn’t seem to be any safe ones.
Definitely not WE.
“If you are lying to me, I might burn you with the house.” She hissed and looked nauseous again.
“This was the first time—” She cut me off with a loud snort and rolled her eyes. “—She’d been here.” I decided not to try and convince her that I’d only been with Angela once. Melanie’s expression made it clear I was going to have a hard enough time getting her to listen to the truth; not a chance I was feeding her lies.
That didn’t mean I was going to volunteer extra details or be honest about how many times, but I wouldn’t be able to get away with pretending it was only the once.
“I need you to go.” Melanie turned back to the kitchen and walked to the cabinet where she kept her tea collection. I wanted to argue, but I could tell that she wasn’t going to change her mind tonight.
“I’ll just grab enough for the night.”
She ignored me and put the kettle on the stove in silence.
I trudged up the stairs to our bedroom. My carry-on duffel was in the closet, with only my travel toiletries inside, from the last time I had gone on a trip. As always, my clothes were all organized and hung up. The only things out of place were the clothes I’d left on the floor over the week while she was away.
I set my duffle down on the unmade bed and surveyed the mess with a grimace. I’d meant to tidy up before she got home. Melanie never left the bed unmade or clothes on the floor; in fact, other than the few times she’d had the flu, I’d never come home to anything less than perfection. I was worried that if I started to clean up now, it would make it look like there was something to hide. I decided it was better to have her annoyed by an unmade bed and a pile of dirty clothes than give her any more reasons to suspect I’d desecrated our marital home.
I packed clothes to sleep in and then carefully placed one of my suits in the duffle. I'd have to ask if the hotel had a laundry service to get the wrinkles out before I faced my boss tomorrow. I reached into my pocket for my phone to book a room and realized I hadn’t grabbed it from the hot tub before chasing after Melanie.
I groaned and swore under my breath. The last thing I had wanted to do was draw attention to that hot tub again tonight.
I finished tossing my toiletries into the bag and took another look around the room I shared with my wife before I trudged back down the stairs. When I entered the kitchen, I expected to find Melanie waiting with her tea, but instead she was sittingon the back deck staring at the hot tub while she sipped from her favorite cup.
When she heard the door slide open she waved a hand towards the site of my destruction and spoke without looking at me.
“Your phone was ringing.”
I didn’t know what to say, so like the idiot I was, I just nodded at the back of her head.
I slowly walked over and grabbed my phone from the edge and glanced at the screen.
8 missed calls from Ms. Reed.
1 missed call from Peter- Home.
4 voicemails.
3 new messages.
Fuck.
I swallowed hard and slid my phone into my pocket and turned back around to face my wife.
She was watching me with an odd expression on her face.
“What?” I suddenly felt very self-conscious, as if she could seeallmy sins written on my body.
