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Feeling as if I’ve had enough of the lovebirds fawning over each other, I rev the engine of my Bugatti, and peel the hell out of there. Fuming, I drive to the nearest liquor store and purchase an assortment to wash down the pain.
After grabbing a few of my favorites, I head home.
How can they do this to me?
She asked for a threesome, and I gave in to her. I asked for her, and I got the opposite.
As I pull into my driveway, I open a bottle of whiskey and chug a couple of swigs before leaving the safety of my car. Allowing the booze to take effect and numb my body and mind, I recall the two of them together.
James and Alexa.
Gathering the bag of liquor, I walk the path to the front door, stumbling on an assortment of newspapers and rolled up notices. The mailbox is stuffed to the brim, unable to hold any more.
"I can hold a lot more," asI tip the bottle to the mailbox, "more than you."
I down another couple of gulps.
Unlocking the door, I go inside.
Once I put down my things, I take my tie and shoes off, kicking them wherever they land. Thud. One to my left in the kitchen. Thud. The other follows.
I sink into the couch to lick my wounded heart and soul. I take another swill from the bottle, which is already half gone.
"I could've loved you so good, Alexa. Cheers my broken heart.”
I raise the bottle for a mock toast and down another gulp. I try to not think of them, but they were just so happy together.
So, let them be happy. Without me.
As I take a final swig, I pull a throw blanket over me and doze off into the darkness.
