It was getting late in the evening. I got home from work, relaxed in the bathroom, and got to work on making dinner. The atmosphere was so cozy, I wanted to gulp in the warm summer air. I opened the balcony wide open and played nice music. The mood was great, because today I signed a contract with an important client.
Suddenly the phone rang – a number I didn’t know. I didn’t really want to answer the phone, but decided that it was about work.
– Hello!
– Hello. The thing is, I love your husband! – I heard a nice woman’s voice.
– Ahaa… Okay… Congratulations…” I mumbled, and in my head I fantasized about my husband cheating on me with some girl.
– Is that it? Is that how you’re going to react? He must be telling the truth, that you haven’t loved him for a long time.
– He must be telling the truth,” I whispered, trying to hold back the tears.
– Robert said you were threatening. Drop your petty manipulations! He admitted to me that you would commit suicide if he left you.
That’s when I realized my husband’s name wasn’t Robert. I was glad, but then I realized that this grief does affect someone, and I decided to fight back:
– Young lady, what’s wrong? I am very glad that we have similar tastes. Now you’re going to feed that brat, wash his socks, and smell his sweaty T-shirts. You’re going to make him cut his nails and wash the blackness off his fingers! That’s why, congratulations.
– What are you talking about, woman? What socks? What nails?
– My husband. Robert, or whatever his name is?
I heard a dial tone in response. I hope I saved at least one woman from being attacked by an unstable girl.
