An evening full of humiliation
Kaani tried to explain herself. She claimed she had heard that Marcellus was feeling unwell and wanted to bring him something sweet.
Her excuses were so awkward they were pathetic.
I invited her in.
Marcelus stood motionless, as if paralyzed. The sweat dripping down his forehead and his dilated pupils betrayed a panic he couldn’t hide.
I sat Kaani in the armchair opposite the couch where my husband was sitting.
Then I started the show.
I talked about our vacation plans, our lake house, our future children, and our life together. Every word hit her like a punch.
I wanted her to understand one thing – it was just a momentary whim.
She didn’t belong to our world.
I went to the kitchen for drinks. I prepared tea for myself and Marcellus in porcelain cups with gold trim. For her, I brought water in a thin plastic cup.
I didn’t have to say anything.
Everything was clear.
Kaani sat more and more tense, and Marcelus avoided my gaze.
At one point I mentioned women who send messages to other people’s husbands.
“Can you imagine, Kaani?” I said with icy calm. “My wife is sitting next to me, and some girl is texting, ‘I miss you.’”
Her hands began to tremble.
She already knew that I had read the message and that it was I who replied from Marcelus’s phone.
The whole evening was a planned trap.
After a dozen or so minutes she couldn’t stand it anymore.
She grabbed her purse and practically ran for the door. As she tried to put on her shoes, her hands were shaking so badly that she could barely get her foot in.
I held her for a moment longer.
I leaned over and said quietly:
« Next time you want to visit my husband, call first. The neighbors might misunderstand such late-night visits. »
Her face turned completely white.
She fled to the elevator without a word.
The door closed behind her and I returned to the living room.
Marcelus sat still.
I took his phone and smashed it against the glass table with all my force.
“Explain everything to me,” I said in a cold voice.
He tried to explain himself. He claimed she was just a co-worker, that nothing had happened, that her visit was a surprise.
But I already had evidence.
Bank statements with transfers for Kaani. Screenshots of conversations. Photos of movie tickets from the evening he was supposedly at a business dinner.
He finally broke down.
He burst into tears and begged for forgiveness.
He said he made a mistake. He said he would fix everything.
I looked at him and felt nothing but disgust.
