Weeks had passed maybe a month and James was off work that Wednesday.
His buddy Bruce came over right after Sara left for her shift.
“What’s up, bud. Finally we can now battle on Minecraft. Hope you ready for an ass-kicking,” James said, already talking that competitive shit before Bruce even got his shoes off.
“By who? I know not you. That will be the day.”
They played PS5 for a couple hours, smoked a little, joked around like they always did. Same little things they did for years.
“You want another soda or a beer? We got a whole selection, your choice,” James said, getting up to head to the kitchen.
Bruce still sitting on the sofa looked up and slapped James on the butt on his before he went to the kitchen saying:
“Tighten up.”
James looked back at him. “You son of a—”
“Damn, you know how to make a slap on the buttocks feel good.”
“Yeah, you know they say I got magic hands.” Bruce grinned. “I might have to take you up on that.”
Then Bruce stood there a second, like something was sitting on his chest. “What did Sara say about all those dick pictures?”
“She was shocked, as to how many it was. I told her it was a prank and left it at that. Why?”
“Just asking. I thought she would’ve asked that question.”
“What question?”
“You know. After finding what she found in your phone. You know what question I’m talking about.”
“Ohh. That question.” James shook his head. “No. I told her it was a prank.”
Bruce asked to use the bathroom. James walked him toward the hallway and Bruce pulled James into the back bedroom instead.
Sara had been trying to call James for twenty minutes straight. No answer.
His phone was in the other room charging from the PS5.
Sara was hungry, he wasn’t picking up, and her lunch break wasn’t getting any longer so she decided to just swing by the house herself.
She let herself in, dropped her bag at door, and went straight to the kitchen and started fixing a ham, lettuce, and cheese sandwich.
First bite into her sandwich.
That’s when she heard a thumping sound.
With Rhythm, coming from the hallway.
She figured James was hanging a picture on the wall or something like that.
She wiped her hands and walked down the hallway toward the sound. The closer she got, the louder it got.
She pushed the back bedroom door open.
For a second she didn’t say anything. She just stood there, sandwich fell out her hand, watching her whole seven years rearrange itself in front of her eyes.
Then it all came out at once.
“What the FUCK, James?! You sausage lover! You probably always like sausage’s.
Who is this little dick idiot you got back here?! You bet not say Bruce don’t you dare say Bruce!”
“Bruce”
“And he’s an asshole with a little dick bad combination”
James was stuttering trying to scrambled for the right words to say that weren’t there.
Bruce grabbed his clothes like speedy Gonzalez thinking he can get out there in a flash considering what just happened.
Sara wasn’t crying.
Not yet. She was past crying, standing in a place that didn’t have a name for what she was feeling betrayal wrapped around confusion wrapped around seven years of her life wasted and from now on she now had to look at her marriage completely different.
“Seven years,” she said, low, shaking her head like she was trying to shake the image out.
“Seven years, James. The dick pictures. The ohh it’s a ‘prank.’ Bruce coming over every Wednesday. All of that was the shit I can’t unsee. Was all that what this is? That what THIS is?”
James finally found some words.
“Sara, baby, let me expl—”
“Don’t.” She held her hand up, the same way she had weeks ago at the counter, except this time there was nothing left to test. The test was already over. He had already failed it he’s been failing it every Wednesday in a room she couldn’t see into.
She looked at Bruce, who had the decency to at least not make eye contact.
“And you. Asshole with the little dick. Get the fuck out my house.”
Bruce didn’t argue.
He grabbed the rest of his belongings and moved past her fast, not saying a word.
Sara stood in that doorway a long moment, looking at James sitting there half-dressed bottom half exposed in every way.
Then she turned around, picked up her sandwich up off the floor and walked down the hallway picked up her bags and walked out the front door still holding sandwich.
She didn’t slam it because her hands were full. Plus she didn’t need to.
To be continued…