The wrench slipped from my greasy fingers as my 16-year-old daughter's voice cut through the evening air like a rusty blade. He's pathetic, Mom. Just leave him already. Curtis actually takes you places that matter. I was under the hood of my beat-up Dodge in our driveway, the streetlights casting long shadows across the cracked asphalt.
The engine had been making that grinding noise again, the kind that tells you your vehicle is slowly dying, just like everything else in your life. My wife Amber's laugh drifted through the screen door, sharp and cold. Tess, keep your voice down. He might hear you. So, what if he does?
Everyone already knows about Curtis anyway. Mrs. Henderson next door asked me yesterday if you were getting divorced yet. I wiped my hands on an old rag, my jaw clenching. 20 years of marriage and this is how I find out my wife's affair has become neighborhood entertainment.
I wasn't even surprised. The late-night phone calls, the new clothes, the sudden interest in yoga classes that required full makeup, it all made sense now. Headlights swept across our lawn as a silver BMW pulled into my driveway like it owned the place. Curtis Brennan stepped out, adjusting his expensive suit jacket. He walked right up to me, not even bothering with pleasantries.
Your wife's coming with me tonight, Nick. It's not really up for discussion anymore. Excuse me? I said. Curtis smiled, the kind of smile that probably worked great at his car dealership when he was selling overpriced sedans to desperate families.
Amber and I have been seeing each other for months. She's ready to move on, and frankly, so should you. The screen door creaked open and Amber stepped onto the porch in the black dress I'd bought her for our anniversary last year, the one she claimed made her look fat. Curtis, I told you I'd meet you at the restaurant, she said, her tone more annoyed than angry. I thought we should be honest, Curtis replied.
Nick deserves to know where things stand. Get off my property, I said quietly. Isabelle Savens. Curtis actually laughed. Come on, Nick.
Let's be adults about this. You can't seriously think you can compete with what I offer her. Something inside me snapped like a rubber band stretched too far. I walked into the house past Amber who was suddenly looking nervous and past Tess who was recording everything on her phone. I went straight to the bedroom closet lock box on the top shelf.
The.357 Magnum had been my father's. A tool isn't a toy, Nick, he'd told me when I was 12. You only pull it out when you're prepared for everything to change. Everything was already changing. I walked back outside, the weight of the revolver solid in my hand.
Curtis was leaning against his BMW checking his Rolex. You have exactly 2 seconds to get in your car and drive away, I said raising the gun. Curtis's face went white. Jesus Christ, Nick. Put that thing down.