My Drunk Wife Called My Best Friend 'Honey'

"Sober up yet? If you're going to embarrass yourself, do it at home."

Everyone was afraid I'd lose my temper and hit a woman, so they rushed over and grabbed hold of me.

"Nate, calm down."

"Maybe she just had too much to drink and was talking nonsense..."

Ha. They were overthinking it. I never hit women. I just wanted to stop her from humiliating me any further.

"You've all been drunk before. You know what people are really like when they're wasted, don't you?"

They froze, and not one of them said another word about it.

Instead, every head turned toward Morris. "You're something else, you know that? Calling you a backstabber would be too kind. You know damn well how Nate's treated you. Why would you go after his wife? Did you sell your conscience?"

"Seriously. If it weren't for Nate, you'd still be out there begging for a job."

"Morris, I have zero respect for you. You're not a man."

Faced with everyone pointing fingers at him, the panic on Morris's face vanished in an instant, replaced by something raw and bitter.

He stood up and kicked the table over. His face was twisted with rage.

"All of you, shut the hell up! Stop feeding me that garbage about how good Nate's been to me. I'm sick of it!"

"He's been better than me at everything since we were kids. Grades, academics, family money. He's had his foot on my neck my whole life. I don't need anyone's pity. Every time he helped me, it was just another way of rubbing my face in how pathetic I am!"

"Nathaniel Gilbert, what makes you so high and mighty? You were born with a silver spoon, that's all. If we'd swapped places, you'd know exactly how much I've suffered."

The moment those words left his mouth, the others erupted.

"Bullshit! You think everyone's as twisted and rotten as you?"

"Nate's helped all of us too, and none of us turned out like you. We're grateful."

"Yeah, because we actually have a conscience. Unlike you, you worthless piece of trash."

The shouting was loud enough to shake the walls, and between that and the tea that had been thrown in her face, Valerie sobered up fast.

But the moment she came to, she saw everyone standing on my side, tearing Morris apart.

Valerie's eyes flashed with fury. She steadied herself and stepped in front of Morris like a shield.

"Shut your mouths! Whatever's between me, my husband, and him is none of your business!"

"I had too much to drink. I made a mistake. I called Morris the wrong—"

I didn't give Valerie the chance to spin her story. I grabbed my phone and hurled it at her.

"Take a look. Pulled this off the security cameras."

Valerie watched the footage of herself and Morris, naked and tangled together. There wasn't a shred of shame on her face. Instead, she slammed the phone into the floor, seething.

"Enough! What, you want to announce to the whole world that Nathaniel Gilbert got cheated on? You couldn't just talk about this at home?"

"I would've loved to have this conversation at home! But you're the one who threw yourself at Morris and put it all on display!"

I had never felt this kind of pain and rage before. It was like someone had reached into my chest and was tearing it open with bare hands.

Every breath burned.

I couldn't stay there another second. I grabbed my jacket and left like I was running for my life.

I ended up at a bar. Walking down empty streets, eyes stinging, tears threatening to fall.

Our marriage was over. I was done with both of them. The woman and the brother.

It was well past midnight by the time I made it back to the home that had once felt warm and safe.

But the moment I saw our wedding photo, every dead memory came rushing back like a blade to the chest, and there was nowhere to hide.

I pulled the photo off the wall and smashed it with my own hands.

The crash was loud. Valerie came running out in a sheer lace negligee.

"Nathaniel, that's enough!"