My Boss Next Door

I had thought it would be the most romantic day ever. There were two pieces of good news to celebrate today: my 3rd wedding anniversary and the fact that I'd just gotten a promotion.

I walk eagerly to the man I love, stretching onto my toes to kiss Ryan. But he ducks, pushing something into my arms.

When I unwrapped it, my whole body froze.

A divorce document.

“That's what I want. “ Ryan,said coldly. His arms crossed over his chest.” Honestly, I'm sick and tired of this. You're not taking care of our home. ”

It took me a minute to comprehend the current situation.” It wasn't April Fool's Day. ”

Exasperated, Ryan rolls his angry eyes at me and gestures to the room around us. “ Do you know what it’s like to walk into a room with cat hair everywhere and a carpet that hasn’t been cleaned in months? ”

My eyes widen, my head pulling back to look at my husband. “Let me remind you that I make twice as much as you do and that I am the one who pays for the cleaners. Yet, I distinctly remember conversing with you a long time ago where we agreed to take turns dividing our workload!”

The counter-argument makes Ryan groan, throwing his head back as he stares at the ceiling. “I earn money too, Esme!” He snaps at me.

“Then what’s the problem here?”

“The problem? Why don’t I have a housewife? You can’t even be bothered to bring me a child to raise!”

“Me? You do realize I want to have this baby, too, right? You’re the one who refuses to go with me to the hospital! Maybe if you were a bit more active—”

Ryan interrupts me with a laugh that silences me.

“You know what I’m talking about,” He spits, seemingly implying that I’m a liar. “You’re having an affair with your boss; don’t deny it!”

Mr. Anderson? Derek Anderson? The confusion seems to proliferate, and the facial expressions that take over my face feel like a dream.

The only thing that is true about my boss is that he’s a dashing divorced man. I’m dazed at the idea my husband accuses me of sneaking behind his back.

“I can absolutely assure you, Ryan, that there never has and never will be anything regarding my boss! I am his subordinate, and there’s nothing left to discuss about Mr. Anderson!”

His arms cross over his chest again, huffing. “You’re so delusional that your work has given you everything you desire when, in fact, it is your boss.”

“Fine. You want this divorce and to live in your fantasy world where I’m the villain? I’ll sign your fucking divorce papers, but not right now. For now, I’m going to find a competent lawyer to help me properly divide my property from you.”

I start rushing toward the front door, needing to escape this house, this man, this absurdity.

But I hear Ryan chasing me down the hall. “Esme! Quit stalling for more time or to conjure up new lies. If you have a clean conscience, then you should sign the papers today.”

He grabs my arm and whirls me around, and for the first time since I met Ryan, I don’t recognize the man. His eyes are dark, his skin ice cold as his fingers wrap around my upper arm, and his voice full of disgust.

I shake my head, ripping my arm from his grasp, slap my husband in the face, and I leave the house with papers in hand and my heart bleeding on the floor in front of the man.

Happy anniversary to me.

“I’m going to have to kill the bastard!”

My best friends, Annie and Lily, sit at the bar on either side of me. Ransom’s Tavern is our favorite place to drown our sorrows, and Lily is basically ready to go all Jeffery Dahmer on Ryan.

“And on your anniversary of all days! Who asks for a divorce on the day two people get married? He better be ready for me because I’m going to end his entire life with one fucking punch to the face!”

I can’t help but laugh at Lily as she puts up her fists like she’s preparing for battle. Her nose scrunches up, and her eyebrows hide behind her brown bangs.

“Calm yourself,” Annie instructs our friend.

“Calm? How can you be calm? He’s just told our best friend that she’s only where she is in her career because she’s been sleeping with her boss! Do you know how incredibly sexist and disgusting that is?”

“Talk louder; I don’t think the entire block heard you,” I reply as I take a drink. This is the last thing I need. I rub my left temple, my curly blonde hair quickly becoming tangled in my fingers.

“Moving on!” Annie instructs, waving her perfectly manicured hand at Lily. Then, touching my hand on the sticky bar, Annie states seriously, “Esme, if I were you, I’d go to your boss’ house and sleep with him. Now.”

I roll my eyes as I give the two women a sad smile. “Come on, my boss isn’t like you, guys. He’s a family man. He’s got a lot of responsibilities on his plate.”

“Uh, isn’t your boss single now?” Lily questions.

I shrug, taking another sip of my watery beer. “He’s got two daughters, and from what I’ve heard, he takes care of them independently.”

“Aka, he’s single and maybe ready to mingle?” Annie teases, biting her bottom lip at her joke.

I nudge my shoulder against hers, unable to keep a laugh from rising out of me. “Stop it!”

I wouldn’t be shocked if Anderson is single, especially since he never works overtime. He always leaves as soon as the clock strikes five like Cinderella leaving the ball at midnight.

But as I sit here, I start to wonder if the alcohol has already saturated my mind. Because suddenly, Anderson is all I’m able to think about.

Who would it hurt if I were to maybe…text him? Ryan would be furious, absolutely floored at my gall. But my anger, my desire to hurt the man who I’d married three years ago, fuels my rage.

“I’m going to text him,” I tell the girls, pulling out my phone. I’m going to tell him exactly where I am right now and use this to relieve some of the anger.

Getting back at Ryan for his selfish and pathetic behavior? Better than giving him a swift kick in his special little place.

“No way. Prove it!” Annie smirks, looking down at my phone lying on the bar.

I pick up the phone, typing in Anderson’s name in my messages. I’ll send him my address as if supposedly informing a friend of my whereabouts. Then, after about a minute, I’ll just tell him I’d sent the message to the wrong person.

No harm, no foul.

Besides, it’s already 8:45. It must be parenting time for Anderson.

I type in the address to Ransom’s Tavern and hit send. I put down the phone, my friends laughing and shoving me with disbelief.

To my surprise, my phone buzzes back immediately with a reply.

“Five minutes.”