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“What are you doing here?” I ask him, keeping my voice neutral. I don’t want to wake Milly up or upset Anthony.
“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m the one who should be asking you. This is my fucking house!” he shouts, clearly not at all concerned about waking anyone up or shielding his child.
“Yo, man. Milly is asleep; your son is in the next room. Keep it down.”
“Get the fuck out of my house, man.” The sneer in his voice as clear as it was the first time he spoke.
I exhale impatiently, trying to hold my temper in check.
“Look, clearly no one is expecting you. Why don’t you call and come back later?” I ask in one last attempt to be reasonable.
“No, you fucking asshole. I don’t know why you think you can tell me what to do in my own house, but I'm not listening to you. Your opinion doesn’t matter to me,” he says dismissively and starts moving toward the center of the house.
I step in front of him, forcing him to stop walking.
I have almost five inches of height on him and more than thirty pounds. We are toe-to-toe and his nose is practically in my neck.
“My opinion may not matter to you. But this isn't your home. Milly isn't your wife. You don’t have any right to be here. You need to get the fuck out, now. If you wake my woman up, upset her mother, or her son, you will have a problem with me. Don’t let this pretty face fool you, if any of those people even look uncomfortable, I will fuck you up. In every way you can imagine.”
He takes a step back. I take a step forward.
“Man, you don’t scare me. I’ve been married to Milly for ten years. You just got here. Don’t think you’re here long term.” He steps back again and sneers at me.
Just then, Milly walks into the kitchen. Her robe is tied tightly around her. Her hair is loose and her face is flushed with sleep. For a second, I lose my train of thought; she's so fucking beautiful. “Kevin, what are you doing? Dean? When did you get here?” She looks back and forth between us.
Kevin bursts out laughing. “You’re not supposed to be here either? You tried to act like you spent the night.” He dismisses me by turning to face Milly.
“I came to talk about your text. What’s wrong with Anthony.”
This stops me in my tracks. Something is wrong with Ant Man?
“I told you nothing was wrong with him yesterday,” she snaps and walks into the kitchen. She walks over to the coffee maker and switches it on.
“Tell your girlfriend to stop feeding him food he's allergic to. He had a stash of Rice Krispies Treats in his backpack she gave him. He's allergic to that stuff. And she told him not to tell me. We don’t keep secrets. That’s not okay.” She turns around to face him. He actually looks shamefaced.
“About that, I'm thinking I was hasty about moving Rachael in with me. The whole situation . . .” His voice falters, and I can hear his uncertainty and regret. Idiot.
“What whole situation?” she asks slowly, her eyes narrowed on him. I lean back on the counter to watch. I have a feeling this is about to get really good.
He glances at me.
“Can we talk alone?” he says.
“We are alone,” she returns.
He looks confused.
“He’s here.” The dumbass points at me like she doesn’t know who he's talking about.
“He,” she points at me, “is me,” she turns her finger back to herself. “So, you can go ahead,” she deadpans.
He steps toward her, but then looks at me and stops. I have to tamp down my urge to laugh.
“What are you saying? We’ve been together since we were kids. This guy, he’s a fling!” His hand moves through the air, to accentuate the word. “We have a family, a kid, you can’t throw it all away for him.” He nods at me.
Milly quirks her lips in disgust.
“You’re so dumb. I don’t even want to waste the breath it would take to explain things to you. But the only thing we share is Anthony. That’s all we will ever share. Please, don’t even think about us reconciling.” Her voice is so cold I feel the chill.
