It wasn't COVID

This is my first story. Thanks to CindyTV for pushing me to write it myself instead of wanting her to run with my idea to publish it under her name. 750 words isn't easy.

*****

Morons! I swear the airport is run by absolute Morons! I almost had to run from the domestic to international terminals because my connecting flight was late. I'm in great shape, if you consider round a shape, so I was breathing hard and perspiring. The morons at security thought I was sick and didn't let me in. Not making this flight meant I would miss my meeting so I might as well go home. Concur was my friend and was able to change my return flight from LAX to Phoenix. After a leisurely walk I was able to board the 737 for home.

Midnight found me parked in front of my dark house meaning Alice, my wife of 4 years, was asleep. As I set my backpack down in its usual place, I almost tripped over a briefcase - that wasn't mine. Turning on the lights, I noticed the table set for two with bits of food remaining.

I'm insecure. My wife is a fox and I've always been overweight and out of shape. Add to that all the LW stories I read. Enough said. Climbing the stairs with my new Samsung S23 in hand, I looked in the master bedroom and could see my wife and someone, not me, sleeping with her.

After taking a few pictures and gathering the men's clothes from the floor, I went downstairs to my study. I wasn't ruling out doing something stupid, just wanted to think about it first. After holding my Glock 20 (I know - Combat Tupperware for all you 1911 bigots - this dig doesn't count towards my 750 words) for a couple minutes, I had an idea.

"Sorry to wake you, mom. We just found out Alice is pregnant. Something seems wrong and she won't go to the hospital. Would you and dad come over and help me?"

They'd be over in 25 minutes. Right on time I let her parents in, directing them to the bedroom while taking the briefcase to my study to join his clothes. As I poured a nice tumbler of Peanut Butter Whiskey (it pairs well with my Glock and I didn't ask your opinion), two women screamed followed by a loud, "WHAT THE FUCK?" from her dad. Another male voice yelled, "Where are my clothes??". Sometimes the little things make you smile.

Her dad was really smart. He walked into my study and did some quick math: cuckold husband + alcohol + firearms equals volatile situation.

"I know you planned this. Thanks for not killing them." He was serious but careful with his tone.

I poured a small glass of whiskey and pushed it to him. He took it and sat, slowly sipping as mom stood next to him.

"If that asshole tries leaving MY house with any of MY clothes, I will shoot him in the leg before cutting off his nuts with a butter knife. He has three minutes to get out of MY HOUSE before I shoot him for trespassing." Mom ran quickly to convey my warning.

Dad watched me start a 3 minute timer on my phone and hollered, "Andy just started a 3 minute timer. I don't think he's bluffing. Get a move on!" He took another sip and said, "I'll have mom pack a bunch of Alice's things and take her with us. Am I correct in assuming this ends in divorce?"

"Naturally. The baby goes up for adoption. PERIOD. If I find the baby isn't mine, they would do well to disappear." I looked at my phone and yelled, "ONE MINUTE!"

"Andy, sit down and sip your beverage. Mom and I don't want to see you in jail. We'll get them both out." Then he yelled out the door, "Hey, ASSHOLE! Go sit in the back seat of our Lexus. NOW!"

The two cheaters ran down the stairs and out the door. Not sure what he was wearing, but it wasn't my clothes.

"Andy, we love you and are sorry about this. Listen to me: you were kidding about being violent. Say it."

"I'm sorry, Dad, but I was just talking without thinking. I would never hurt either of them. I'm serious about the divorce and the baby, though."

The baby wasn't mine. Alice signed a very lopsided divorce in my favor including the adoption. Some may think Alice escaped any punishment. If you knew how bad she wanted a baby, you'd reconsider.

I'm not bitter, but I'm depressed. I'm not looking forward to all the rejection from trying to date again. Maybe God hates me.