I had always loved Mary, even in the fading years of our marriage. God knows she had stopped loving me long ago, but I had made a vow to love her, and that vow could never be broken.
But, damn, it sure was being put under pressure. Your wife leaves her cellphone at home, and it starts to give off a pleasant little chime. You pick it up and flick open the little cover to see a text:
"Hey baby. Wanna come over Wednesday night? We could try something new... ;)"
I have to admit, I had handled that situation extremely well, considering I recognized the number it came from. It was James Meek's cell-number, the one I had memorised so I could check whether my son had practice or not, whether the Coaches Board would be holding another Parent Meeting soon. Mary had always come to the soccer games with me, standing next to me on the sidelines as we cheered on our son. She only gave the occasional smile to James, never any real sign of an affair there.
So, I waited until Wednesday. It was only two days, not too long to wait. Mary had smiled at me like usual, said she was going to her Book Club, put on her coat that I had got her for her birthday, and walked out the door. I waited until I head the mini-van pull out, and then I went and hopped in my little car. I drove slowly to James' house, being patient. After all, her 'book club' lasted two hours and it was only a fifteen minute drive to his house.
I walked in on them, slamming open the door to his bedroom. She was wearing nothing but her underwear and he was wearing nothing. His hand was shoved down her panties. She cut herself off mid-moan as I screamed, "YOU CHEATING SLUT!"
Still, that wasn't enough to drive me to kill her. It wasn't enough for me to be cradling the second-hand Smith & Wesson .38 revolver. What managed to drain my love for her was when she and James hired one of the best lawyers in town for our divorce. She got the custody of my beloved son by exploiting my occasional beer and drink at the bar into an alcohol obsession. Besides, everybody knows the divorce courts are biased towards the mothers.
I lost almost everything. I got to keep the fish tank, my chair that I had in collage(had to fight for that) and I got a quarter of the cash we got from selling the house. That damn lawyer ripped me and my amateur defence apart. The cops will find his body eventually, with a single .38 slug buried in his back. Of course, he was stupid enough to accept my invitation for 'let's put this behind us' drinks in the first place, so it's his fault.
My wife is over at James' house. I'm sitting in my car, holding the gun, counting the rounds in the cylinder. It won't be hard. My beautiful son loves me more, I'm more involved with him, hell, her lawyer told me she only fought for the kid to look good for the court. If Chris doesn't want to come with me, that is fine, but I know he loves me more than he loves my wife and his soccer coach. She stole my son from me, she cheated on me, and I'm beginning to think maybe she never loved me in the first place.