I wrapped my hands and started hitting the speed bag, trying to work out the tension that had been building in my shoulders for days. Woman trouble? Jimmy asked. He was cleaning equipment, but I could feel him watching me. You could say that.
Want to talk about it? I told him everything. The dating profiles, Nathan, the mysterious text messages. Jimmy listened without interrupting, occasionally nodding or grunting in understanding. So, what's your plan?
He asked when I finished. I'm working on it. Don't do anything stupid, Jack. Prison orange ain't your color. I'm not going to hurt anyone, Jimmy, but I'm not going to roll over and play the victim either.
He studied my face for a long moment, then nodded. Good. A man's got to have some pride. Just remember, the best revenge is living well. Maybe, I said, throwing a combination at the heavy bag.
But sometimes living well isn't enough. I got home before Megan showered and was in bed reading when she stumbled in around 1:00 a.m. She was trying to be quiet, but the wine made her clumsy. I heard her drop something in the bathroom and curse under her breath. How was your evening? I called out.
Good. Lisa says, "Hi." "That's nice. Did you go anywhere special?" A pause. "Just that wine bar on Fifth Street. You know, the one with the live music.
The wine bar on Fifth Street had been closed for renovations for the past month. I'd driven by it just yesterday and seen the construction equipment out front. "Sounds fun," I said. "I'm glad you're getting out more." She came to bed without saying anything else, but I could feel her tension radiating across the mattress like heat from a furnace. She knew I was up to something.
She just didn't know what. Neither did I completely, but I was starting to get some ideas. The next morning brought a gift I hadn't expected. Emily was at the kitchen table eating cereal and scrolling through her phone when she looked up with a wicked grin. Dad, you need to see this.
She turned her phone toward me and I found myself looking at a Facebook post from Jessica Martinez. It was a long angry rant about cheating boyfriends and lying scumbags, complete with screenshots of Nathan's dating profiles and photos of him with multiple women, including several with Megan. Holy cow, I said, trying to sound surprised. Isn't that mom's coworker? Yeah, Nathan.
Apparently, he's been juggling like three different women. Emily was practically gleeful. His girlfriend found out and went nuclear on social media. It's got like 200 comments already. I scrolled through some of the responses.
Jessica's friends were being appropriately supportive, calling Nathan every name in the book and promising to key his car if they saw him around town. Someone had already shared the post to the Milbrook community Facebook group where it was gaining traction among the local gossip network. Poor guy, I said, handing the phone back. Poor guy. Dad, he was cheating on his girlfriend with multiple women.
He deserves whatever he gets. You're right, sweetheart. I just meant it's going to be awkward at your mom's work. Emily's expression shifted slightly. Yeah, about that.
You know mom's been hanging out with him lately, right? I looked up from my coffee. What do you mean? I mean, I saw them at Starbucks last week when I was with friends. They looked pretty cozy for just co-workers.
The kitchen went quiet except for the hum of the refrigerator. Emily was watching me carefully, and I realized this was a test. She suspected something and wanted to see how I'd react. "I'm sure it was innocent," I said finally. "Your moms mentioned they're working on some big project together." Emily nodded, but I could see the doubt in her eyes.
She was 20 years old, not 12. She knew what she'd seen. Megan came downstairs a few minutes later, already dressed for work in one of her powers suits. She looked tired like she hadn't slept well. "Morning," she said, heading straight for the coffee maker.
"Morning, Mom. Did you hear about Nathan?" Megan's hand froze halfway to the cabinet. What about Nathan? Emily showed her the Facebook post. I watched Megan's face as she read, saw the color drain from her cheeks as she realized the scope of the disaster.
Her coworker, her lover, was being publicly crucified by his actual girlfriend, and there were photos of the two of them together for everyone to see. Oh my, Megan said weakly. This is This is bad. It gets worse," Emily said, clearly enjoying the drama. "Look at the comments.
People are sharing it everywhere. It's going to be all over town by noon." Megan's phone started buzzing with notifications, text messages, probably from her work friends who'd seen the post. Her face went from pale to green. "I have to go," she said, grabbing her purse and keys. "I'll see you both tonight." She was out the door before either of us could respond.
Well, Emily said, "That was weird. Your mom's probably just worried about the workplace drama." I said, "You know how she hates gossip." But Emily wasn't buying it any more than I was selling it. I got to work early and spent the morning monitoring the social media fallout. Jessica's post had been shared over a hundred times, and Nathan's name was trending in the local Facebook groups. Someone had created a fake Yelp review for his apartment complex, warning other residents about cheating scumbags in unit 4B.