You Betrayed Me for a Traitor

"Call your brother. Get that money back. Now."

Ellen shoved the phone right in my face, her hand almost knocking my damn eye out.

I frowned and didn't even move to grab it, but then the phone rang all of a sudden.

We both flinched, eyes locking onto the screen.

It was my mom calling.

Before I could reach it, Ellen snatched it up and hit the speaker button.

I clenched my fists when opened her mouth. I knew—she'd demand my own mother send back the money.

But then Mom's excited voice burst out before Ellen could say a damn word.

"Oh, my son! Happy birthday, baby! I meant to call you yesterday, but we were out in the fields all day. You ain't mad, right? Tell me, how did you and Ellen celebrate?"

Ellen froze, guilt flashing across her face as she looked at me.

Yeah, my wife forgot my birthday, but she sure as hell remembered to go make out with her other man right in front of me.

I snatched the phone back and pressed it to my ear, plastering on this big, fake grin.

"Nah, how could I be mad, Mom? You and Dad, you're the only ones who ever cared about me. If anyone's sorry here, it's me—not being the son you deserve all these years."

Hearing that, Mom quickly changed the subject, clearly worried I'd get upset.

We kept talking—thirty minutes, maybe. Not once did we bring up my wife's name.

By the time I hung up, Ellen's face was all twisted up like she couldn't figure out what to do.

"Fine, fine. It's your birthday, so I'll let that money slide for now. But it's a loan, 'you hear me? You're damn lucky to have a generous wife like me, you know that?"

"And about yesterday? Well, you know that was your fault. If you'd just talked to me nicely, I wouldn't have left."

I ignored her. Just went back to my phone and started chatting with some old buddies.

She lingered there like a ghost until she muttered, "Fine, I'll go buy a cake. Make something nice for dinner, alright? I'll make it up for you tonight."

I watched until the door clicked shut behind her, and then I opened my chatbox with my supervisor.

[Hey, Wesley, are you really planning on transferring to the branch? It's your hometown, sure, but what about living apart from your wife?]

I shot back quickly: [Won't be a problem. She's about to be my ex-wife soon enough.]

The chatbox showed she was typing, untyping, and typing again.

Although it took her forever, she still sent a short reply.

[Alright… With you on the team, I'm sure the branch will make it.]

I checked the time, set my phone to silent, and crawled back under the covers.

I was dead asleep, right? Then I heard this goddamn noise from the living room.

My eyes barely even opened and my mind barely awake when I felt these hands, yanking me out of bed. It's Ellen.

"Get your ass up! I invited my friends over for your birthday, and you're here sleeping? Get in the damn kitchen!"

I dragged myself out to the living room. There were folks jammed in every corner, trashing the place with empty soda cups and pizza boxes. I swear, I had never felt so enraged like this before.

I clenched my fists but eventually kept my cool. I decided to save some face for my wife who invited them all.

"Oh, wow! Didn't expect all of you to show up. Alright then, how about I book us a table at a restaurant, yeah?"

"What? Nah, bro. Eating out's damn expensive! Besides, Ellen's always bragging about your cooking. We want a taste of that!"

Gareth sprang up. That stupid grin plastered on his face like he knew something I didn't.

And there's Ellen, frowning and pulling at my arm. "You just sent 2,800 bucks to your brother, and now you wanna blow more cash eating out? What, you think we're born rich?"

"Come on, you can cook just fine! I even got all you need. Just make something quick."

Ellen. Buying groceries.

That was enough to make my stomach turn, so I bolted to the kitchen and threw the door open.

Eels, lobsters, frogs—Jesus Christ! I don't even know how the hell a couple of them got behind the damn stove!

I took a deep breath and quickly shut the door.

I knew it'd be like this!

She can't even mop the floor right ever since we got married, and she thinks she can damn buy groceries?!

And then there was Gareth, standing right behind me. In a voice that only the two of us could hear, he arrogantly said, "Poor thing. Cooking for all these folks on your day? Damn. Did you know? For my birthday, Ellen actually rented out a suite at the Kingsbay for three good days."

"Guess you're not the favorite, huh, Wesley?"

Before I could lift my fist, Ellen stepped up right behind him.

"What are you two gossiping about?"

"Hey, babe, why aren't you cooking yet? My friends are starving!"

I wanted to tell her to shove her friends right out the damn door, but then I thought of that bastard's arrogant face last week.

"We're missing some spices. I'll run out and grab them real quick."

"What? I'll go then. It's getting late. You still got two sets of meals to cook, you know."

She really thought I'd cook a feast for her dumbass friends, and then whip up dinner for us too?

I ground my teeth together, and then I just shot back, "What the hell do you even know about kitchen stuff? I'll be back in a flash."

Finally, that shut her up.