He will go home first

The drive home gave Marcus far too much time to think.

What the hell is this ring? A blessing? A curse?

He kept glancing down at the dull silver band on his finger. Part of him wanted to rip it off right there at the next red light. He should take it off immediately, before something worse happened. But another part of him, the tired and beaten-down part, was not quite ready to let go of the strange new power he had felt in the office.

At least his reputation as a grumpy loner worked in his favor. Most people at the company avoided making small talk with him these days. They only approached when they needed his expertise, and even then they kept it short. No one had bothered him on the way out. No awkward elevator conversations. No one to accidentally test the ring on.

It was already a quarter to eight when he pulled into the driveway. Both Belinda’s car and Emily’s sleek black sedan were parked out front.

Marcus let out a long, weary sigh and killed the engine. Of course Emily was here again. Ever since Belinda’s promotion, her sharp-tongued coworker had become a permanent fixture in their house. She showed up uninvited, drank their wine, and the two of them spent hours laughing too loudly at things that stopped being funny the moment Marcus walked through the door.

Emily was mean-spirited and nasty. She never missed a chance to make snide comments about him. He had thrown her out of the house on multiple occasions. Usually Belinda would follow right behind her, screaming at him for being controlling or ruining the mood.

He sat in the car for a long moment, staring at the lit-up windows of his own home. Even with the ring on his finger, he already regretted coming inside.

Marcus killed the engine. Cool night air rushed over him as he stepped out and locked the car with a quiet beep. Shoes scraping across the concrete, he crossed the parking lot toward the building. The automatic doors hissed open to greet him. In the empty lobby he jabbed the elevator call button and stood waiting, jaw tight. When the doors finally parted, he stepped inside and pressed the button for the sixth floor. The lift hummed upward in silence.

He reached his apartment door, turned the key with deliberate care, and slipped inside, closing the door behind him with barely a click.

The laughter spilled from the living room, loud and easy. Marcus turned the key with deliberate care and slipped inside, closing the door behind him with barely a click.

They had not noticed him.

Wine glasses rested on the coffee table beside an open bottle. The television murmured some reality show in the background, ignored by both women sprawled across the couch. Belinda and Emily sat comfortably in the space that was still technically his home.

“I’m just saying,” Emily’s voice dripped with fake sympathy, “you deserve so much better than him. Marcus is… God, he’s pathetic. The way he mopes around this place like a kicked dog. It’s embarrassing.”

Oh, Marcus was pissed hearing that, but the rule of never letting your enemy know they are making a mistake was in play, he was here and they didn’t know that.

A sharp laugh burst from Belinda. “Tell me about it. Fifteen years at that dead-end company and he still brings home pocket change. I make almost double what he does now, and he still expects me to play happy little wife when I get home? Please.”

That caused Marcus to grind his teeth, he worked hard and did not ring back ‘pocket change’ as Belinda so nastily put. Worse he never expected her to play anything, was it so much to ask for someone to be a team player than just be only caring about themselves their entire lives?

Emily leaned in, grinning. “You could do so much better. Like Ryan, for example. That man actually knows how to handle a woman. The way he took charge last weekend? I was almost jealous.”

Those words made Marcus feel sick to the stomach, he had already suspected well known. But hearing it confirmed was more ugly.

Belinda’s smile turned sly and satisfied. “Ryan is… different. He actually listens when I talk. He makes me feel wanted. And the sex? Night and day compared to Marcus. I swear, sometimes I think Marcus has forgotten what a real man is supposed to feel like.”

The idea that he was not a ‘real’ man was aggravating and it took all of Marcus’ self-control to not storm in there.

Emily took a slow sip of wine. “This is what, the third guy this year? Or fourth?”

“Fourth,” Belinda answered without a trace of shame. “There was that guy from accounting in February, then the personal trainer in April, and that bartender over the summer. Ryan’s just the latest. He actually has ambition. He’s going places. Unlike the sad sack I married.”

Fourth? Four guys almost one per month, that is revolting, and Belinda was acting like he was the problem.

Emily raised her glass in a mock toast. “To trading up. You should just leave him already. Take the apartment, take most of the money, and let him figure his sad little life out.”

Hard to do when the apartment is in Marcus’ name not her but well if they did get divorced the courts would do much to ruin him, as would Belinda making up stories.

Belinda shrugged, swirling the wine in her glass. “I’ve thought about it. But it’s easier this way for now. He still pays most of the bills and does all the chores. Why rock the boat when I can have my fun on the side?”

Yeah, why be a decent human being when you can be a peace of trash? Marcus was no longer feeling hot angry but cold angry. Very cold angry

Their laughter filled the room again.

Marcus stood motionless in the hallway, the ring on his finger suddenly feeling very heavy.