You think you're so clever, don't you? You think you've won something here? I think I've exposed the truth. Everything else is just consequences. I'll destroy you in the divorce.
I'll take half of everything, including your precious workshop. Good luck with that. See, adultery is still grounds for fault-based divorce in this state. And I've got evidence, lots and lots of evidence. She stared at me for a long moment, and I could see her calculating, trying to figure out her next move.
Maya's going to hate you for this, she said finally. Mia's going to hate the person who broke up our family. That would be you, in case you're confused. I turned and walked toward the door. Where are you going?
She called after me. Out. This is still my house for now, but I can't stand the smell. I drove straight to Murphy's tavern where Eddie was waiting with a beer and a sympathetic ear. How'd it go?
He asks. Better than expected. Her parents saw everything. Chris is probably still trying to scrape paint off his windshield. Good for you, man.
That took balls. Eddie, I need another favor. Name it. I need you to accidentally let it slip to a few people about what happened. You know, just casual conversation, Eddie grinned.
Accidentally? I can do accidentally. Murphy's Tavern was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone else's business. By closing time, half the neighborhood would know that Lydia Mitchell was cheating on her husband with some corporate pretty boy. I was three beers in when my phone started buzzing with text messages.
The first was from Mrs. Feldman. Dear, I saw that young man leaving your house in quite a hurry. Is everything all right? I texted back Everything's fine now, Mrs. Feldman. Thanks for keeping an eye on things.
The second was from Chris. You're going to pay for what you did to my car. I replied, "Send me the repair bill. I'll frame it." The third was from Lydia. We need to talk.
I ignored that one. The fourth was from my daughter, Maya. Dad, mom is crying and won't tell me what's wrong. Where are you? That one sobered me up fast.
I called Maya immediately. Hey, sweetheart. Dad, what's going on? Mom's been locked in your bedroom for 2 hours and there's red paint all over the driveway. I'll be home in 20 minutes.
We need to have a talk. Is everything okay? No, honey. Everything is definitely not okay. But it will be.
I drove home dreading the conversation I was about to have. Maya was smart, mature for her age, but she was still my little girl. How do you tell your 16-year-old daughter that her mother is a cheating liar? Maya was waiting for me in the living room when I walked in. Lydia was nowhere to be seen.