“Lila! What the fuck!” I roared, chasing after her.
Lights were turning on in the surrounding houses; Lila just flipped me the bird.
“I’d call the fire department if I were you,” she called out, before climbing into her car.
I stood in the middle of the road as she drove away, her taillights disappearing as she took the corner.
She’s fucking crazy.
“I called the fire department,” Enzo said, appearing beside me. “But we better keep our distance, just in case she blows.”
“Blows?!” I whispered, backing away. “What the fuck is wrong with her?!”
Enzo shook his head and stared at the now blazing truck, his eyes wide. “She’s pissed, man.”
The sound of sirens filled the once-silent street. Neighbours were on their doorsteps now, the nosey fuckers, clutching dressing gowns around their bodies to ward off the chill.
“You okay man?” Enzo asked gently, resting his hand on my shoulder.
I whipped my head to him, my eyes wide. “No! She fucking torched my truck!”
“You fucked someone else,” Enzo reminded me. “In her eyes, you deserve this.”
The fire crew got to work, dragging their hoses to the remnants of the truck, spraying vigorously while calling out to one another.
Mywifetorched my truck, but Enzo was right.
I deserved this.
Would the insurance even pay out?
How would I get to work?
Shit!
I finally fell to my knees, watching as my truck burned furiously against the inky black sky.
Then my phone beeped in my pocket, and I dragged it out without looking. I knew it was Lila.
Lila: Maybe Cami could give you a ride to work?
And attached to the text was the video of me and Cami.
The sounds of us fucking greeted me as I swiped at it like a madman, refusing to listen to a fucking second of that shit.
I hadn’t even thought about Cami. I hadn’t read any of her texts or answered her calls, and I didn’t intend to. That was a part of my life I was leaving behind.
My phone beeped again.
Lila: Sign the papers.
My wife had lost it. She had fucking lost it. She’d had me escorted from her workplace when I’d tried to talk to her, had mymother and sister turn up when I’d gone to the house, changed the fucking locks, and then she’d torched my truck.
Is that enough revenge, Lila?
But part of me couldn’t help but admire the fuck out of her for defending herself like this. For showing how much our marriage meant to her, which had to mean something.
Right?
