Credits to the owner..
I'd been suspicious of him for some time. I knew he was a flirt but there was a detachment from me that I'd never seen before.
I'd come home from work early - I'd been feeling under the weather and it gave me the chance to test my theory.
I slouched through the door of our flat, dropping my bag and my keys by the door and heading straight for the kitchen where Michael was making a drink.
"Hey, I wasn't expecting you home this early?" He asked.
"I'm feeling pretty crap. Who's the second drink for?" I asked - I was so right.
"Uh, no one."
"Then why did you make two?"
"Because I was going to take it with me to the game station and then I wouldn't have to get up to get another one for longer." He smiled, kissing my forehead as he passed me to go play Fifa.
"Okay, I'm just going to get changed." I was trying to catch him out - I wouldn't have him lying to me.
"No!" He shouted immediately, dropping the glass and smashing it all over the floor.
"Who's there Michael? Just tell me."
He sighed. "My girlfriend."
"She comes round after you've left for work."
"Just for sex or is there something more going on?"
"Mostly sex, but I do really like her."
"And when were you going to tell me this?"
"I wasn't going to."
"I was getting laid more. Well, in theory." He scoffed.
"I'm glad our relationship meant so much to you. Is this just about sex to you?"
Michael paused for a moment and then nodded. "If we're being honest; yeah."
"So loyalty and trust mean absolutely nothing?"
He shrugged, as if totally unaffected by this whole thing.
"You are such an asshole! You're a pig driven entirely by your penis and I cannot believe you, legitimately." I shouted.
"I'm an asshole that you married! What does that say about you?" He smirked.
"It's says that I'm naïve enough to believe you. I trusted you! I can't believe you'd do this to me. No, actually I can. I'm not surprised at all."
"Then why are you still here? File for a divorce, see what the public think about us splitting up - what will you tell all my adoring fans?" He teased, smirking at me with his arms wide.
I grabbed his chin in my hand; now that he was standing still I could smell alcohol on him. "How drunk are you? It's only 1pm."
"I'm living the high life, bitch. Now get out of my apartment."
"I think you'll find the apartment is in my name and I pay the rent every month, bitch." I sauntered past him, whispering in his ear and throwing the door to our room open. The sheets were a mess and everything was strewn all over the floor. I kicked open the door to the en suite, evoking a scream from the partially clothed partially sober girl and watching her perky ass scurry out of my bathroom.
"Hey! Stop it, don't make such a fuss!" Michael argued, the girl scurrying under his arms.
"No, Clifford. Get out of my house!" I screamed.
"And what if I don't?"
"I have no problems calling the police. Take your little slut and get out of my house. Go on; get out." I snarled - I wasn't going to take this.
I let the door slam before I kind of broke down.