The wrench slipped from my greasy fingers as I heard 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. Some families play Monopoly on Friday nights. Mine apparently plays Russian roulette with my pride. 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. The worst part? I wasn't even surprised.
The late-night phone calls, the new clothes, the sudden interest in yoga classes that somehow required full makeup. It all made sense now. I was about to head inside when headlights swept across our lawn. A silver BMW pulled into my driveway like it owned the place. Curtis Brennan stepped out, adjusting his expensive suit jacket.
He was everything I wasn't. Smooth, entitled, the kind of guy who never had grease under his fingernails or worried about making rent. 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.
The audacity hit me like a physical blow. This wasn't some guilty confession or awkward confrontation. This was a declaration of ownership. Excuse me? 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. She was wearing the black dress I'd bought her for our anniversary last year. The one she claimed made her look fat.
Apparently, it only made her look fat for me. "Curtis, I told you I'd meet you at the restaurant. " she said. But her tone was more annoyed than angry. Like he was a puppy who jumped on the furniture, not a man announcing his affair in my own driveway. "I thought we should be honest. " Curtis replied.