"Whoa, whoa!"
If I weren't so pissed, I would probably find it amusing watching Simon duck and twist while attempting to hold onto the towel around his waist. Speaking of waist...
"Stop! What the fuck are you doing? Maria, damn it,stop!" He twisted his torso away just as my knee went up towards his junk. Disappointed that my hits weren't landing, I shoved him back in fury.
"Get your stuff and get out!" I screamed.
My furious gaze landed on the small wicker basket on the corner of my counter. I remembered how excited I’d been to buy his favorite bathroom products and how I lovingly arranged them in the basket for him to use when he came over. Because hehadstarted to come over more and more frequently. I didn't just create a specialized guest basket out of fucking nowhere.
Anger replaced embarrassment when I thought of the time and effort I wasted on this absolute shithead. I grabbed the basket and threw it against the wall.
"Stop this!" Simon demanded. He grabbed me from behind around my shoulders, holding me in place as I continued to kick and screech like a banshee. Not my finest moment.
"I don't know what the fuck has gotten into you, but you need to calm down!"
I went still at his words before my body tensed up, and I ripped through his arms in a blaze of adrenaline rage. I whirled around to face him, flames of outrage spitting from my wet eyes.
"Calm down?" I growled. "Calmdown?!" I stormed forward, and he wisely jumped out of my way. I snatched up his phone and punched in his pin. When I pulled his texts up, he launched forward in a panic.
"Uh, listen, Maria –"
"What the fuck isthis?!" I held up the text thread and scrolled up... up... and up. "My best friend!" I cried. "You've been fucking my best friend!"
He winced, and a flash of guilt came over his face. But it was too late for regrets.
"It's not what you think, Maria." He held up his hands placatingly as he inched forward.
I scoffed at him as I held his phone up to read. "'I got off last night to the dirty things you did to me. When can we do it again?'" I quoted.
"'I can't stop thinking about your big dick.'" I wanted to gag when I read that, but I pushed through the hurt as I continued to thumb through his phone.
"What were you doing going through my phone anyway?" he angrily hissed.
I huffed my breath out at his blatant attempt at deflection. "Your phone kept going off while you were showering," I spat out, "and when I glanced at it, I saw the number. Iknowthat slut's number by heart. She was supposed to be my best friend!" I shook my head in disgust.
"Imagine my surprise when I saw that she sent youthis!" He fell back as I shoved the image Lissa recently sent. It was a duck face selfie. Atoplessduck face selfie.
Simon made to grab his phone, but I jerked it out of reach.
"Look," he tightened the towel as it started to slip. "It was one time. We were both drunk."
I rolled my eyes. Like that was a fucking excuse. There would be a whole league of forgiven spouses if drunkenness were a solid reason for infidelity. And I believed his plea of it happeningone timejust as much as I believed my mom when she promised that her current boyfriend was"the one."
Simon squared his shoulders and looked me dead in the eye. "You and I aren't serious or exclusive anyway," he sneered, "so I don't know what the big deal is."
His words were such a gut punch to my stomach. I could feel the pain of his coarseness seeping through my wounded gaze.
"Not exclusive? Not serious? Why the fuck have you been sleeping with me all these years? Since I was fuckingseventeen!" I yelled. The hand holding the incriminating evidence jabbed at him with each sentence. "Why have you been coming to New Haven nearly every month lately? Why do you stay with me when you have family here? Why have I wasted all these years on you?!"
Simon stood there, face pale as his mouth flapped like an idiot, unable to conjure up a rebuttal. Because there was no excuse. Because when I laid it all out there in verbal black and white, it dawned on him what an asshole he was. But moreimportantly—Iknew he was an asshole. Yet, what did that make me?
A fool.
Simon's guilty gaze dropped to the phone, still tightly clasped in my hand. Lissa's bare breasts still showing in her full disloyal glory.
"Get out!" I slapped his shoulder and shoved him out of my bathroom and down the hallway toward my front door.
I was pretty surprised at my level of strength, but then again, I was running on the fumes of a woman scorned. It was the equivalent of someone gaining adrenaline in a moment of life or death where they could suddenly lift three times their weight.
