5
486words
I followed his gaze.
A red Audi sedan—I had bought myself one only this year.
That night,after Michael left,I drove it to get his mom.
After the accident,it had been here for ever two weeks and was now covered in dust.
Michael saw it.
He rushed over,pressing his face to the window to look inside.
Clara followed."Mike,what're you doing?"
He shushed her,staring inside,muttering,"She was here?She actually came..."
Of course I came—for you,your mom,when have I ever lied?
"Mom!Mom!"Michael ran back to her.
"Did Emily come here?"
"No!She used to visit often,but not for over two weeks.I'm old and useless,she doesn't care..."
Before Mom finished,Michael rushed to the car.
Clara hopped into the passenger seat.
"Mike,what's wrong?"
He glanced at her,sweat was rolling down from his forehead.
"Bad feeling,real bad."
Clara paused,then smiled."You're overworked.Want to relax a bit?I'll massage you like before."
Massage...
I wanted to tear Clara's fake,vile face apart.
Her"massage"reminded me of the first time I saw her.
Three months ago,my thirty-thousand-dollar bonus came.
My boss gave me a half-day off.Thrilled,I went to pick up the red Audi I'd long wanted.
Driving it to the funeral home's garage,I saw our car's windows wide open.
Thinking things inside were stolen,I rushed over.
From afar,I heard a woman panting.
"Mike,feel good?"
Mike.She meant Michael, no doubt.
My mindwent blank,adrenaline surging.I yanked the door open.
It wasn’t an affair going on inside,but I saw enough to boil my blood.
Michael had the driver's seat flat and he was lying on it.A heavily made-up,mature woman in the back seat massaged his shoulders.
Seeing me,Michael sat up,surprised.
"Uh,Emily,you're here?"
I pointed at her,furious."Who's she?!What're you doing in the car?!"
Clara adjusted her revealing skirt,stepping out.
"You're Emily?Please don’t misunderstand me—Mike just restored a man pierced by rebar,his shoulders hurt.I...was just giving him a massage."
Her eyes darted between us,guilty yet innocent.
Michael grabbed my hand,laughing,"Don't overthink.Clara was just visiting,she was trying to be helpful..."
"Helpful?Her chest was practically in your face!"I refused his excuses,drove off.
That time,Michael didn't chase after me.From then on,he stopped explaining why he would come home late.If I asked,he'd snap,"Why're you always checking up on me?Focus on your career!So petty,you'll never succeed!"
Clara's texts and calls to him were no longer hidden from me.
As far as I knew,they hadn't crossed that line.
And after death,there was no way for me to find out now.
Clara offered another massage.Michael refused.
"No,Clara,I said no more.And..."
He dialed me again—my phone was still off.
"Emily's not answering.I'm worried.Take Timmy home by cab.I'm...going home."
Clara pouted,"Ugh,Mike,you said she's jealous.Maybe she’s doing it on purpose.Timmy's asleep—you'd let him catch a cold?"
"Enough,Clara,get out!If Emily sees this,she'll be mad!I have to go home!"
Michael opened the car doors,handing Timmy to Clara.
Clara,holding Timmy,glared at the fading taillights,stomping.
Her heel hit a rock,and she fell hard,everyone in the crowd got a glimpse of under her dress.
