One minute I was preparing to woo Alison, then she dissed me.
Straight up, wouldn’t give me the time of fucking day.
Then the truth came out.
In all its fucking glory too—like a Vegas show with its tits out—guess who’s been fucking your fiancé?
Your old man.
What a joke.
But the way Alison looked at him cut me up. She’s never looked at me like that.
Scanning the room, my eyes fall on my phone, which is face down beside me.
Fourteen texts, and god only knows how many missed calls.
I don’t recognise some of the numbers so that they can fuck off.
I’m not interested in buying new windows or whatever shit they’re selling today.
The phone rings again, and I answer it by mistake.
“Ah fuck, hello?”
Ouch, it hurts to talk.
“It’s Sean here from the real estate office. I’m sorry to bother you, but I just wondered if you’d decided on the house?”
What fucking house?
What is he on about?
The man gives me an address that means nothing to me, but then he mentions Alison.
“Well, when you and your fiancé…viewed the house,” he cleared his throat. “You seemed quite keen. Are you considering making an offer?”
“Wait, Alison viewed it?”
Sean sounds confused.
“Uh, you both did. I apologise again for interrupting you both; I’ve meant to apologise.”
This guy must be a nut job.
“I think you’ve got me mixed up with someone else, dude.”
“Alison Slater and Kurt Derby?”
Well, that’s us alright, but we didn’t attend any fucking viewings.
Then I sit up, my brain sloshing around like a pickled egg.
“When was this?”
Papers shuffle, and Sean sighs.
“Monday, two weeks ago.”
“Did I have tattoos and a fuck off truck?”
Sean stammers that yes, I did.
“Yeah. We’re not interested in the fucking house.”
So they went to view a house together two days after she caught me with those chicks?
That meant she screwed my dad the same day she caught me cheating.
How the fuck do I know that this wasn’t going on way before we broke up?
Swinging my legs out of bed, I stagger to the door, cursing my fucking dad and his fists.
Dad’s bedroom door is open, but he’s not there.
“Dad,” I call out, wanting to throttle the prick. “Yo, Dad!”
There’s no answer, so I move the blinds in his room to see his truck is gone.
Probably at work.
I’ll ask Alison then.
The phone rings until she answers with a giggle, the sound of splashing in the background sending a trickle of unease down my spine.
“How long have you two been fucking?”
“No, it’s Father Christmas. How many men are you seeing?” I drawl, pissed off with her already.
“Urgh, what do you want?” Alison’s tone is cold, and I don’t appreciate it.
“Sorry, am I bothering you?”
“It doesn’t matter how long. We weren’t together like I said.”
“Uh-huh, I know what you said. But I’ve just had a call from the realtor, apologising for interrupting us at the viewing.”
There's silence, and my heart sinks.
Is this what it feels like to be cheated on?
“I wasn’t with you when I viewed it.”
Does she think it matters that we broke up days before?
“Oh, well, that's alright then,” I snap bitterly. “So you fucked my dad in a house you were viewing, and he thought he was me? Jesus Christ, Alison, what’s happened to you?”
“Kurt, it all happened so fast; I didn’t expect it to be like this….”
“Clearly not. Where are you? Can we talk?” I try to calm down, but it isn’t easy.
Why I still love this girl is beyond me. She’s beautiful, but all women are.
She kept me grounded, I guess, and the sex wasn’t half bad. We got on okay, and most guys wanted her in their bed.
It was only when I lost her that I realised I loved her.
“I’m away, and I can’t. Is there even anything left to say?” Alison sounds exhausted, and I wonder if she’s with my old man.
“Are you two…” I pinch my nose, exhaling through my mouth before saying the words I didn’t want to hear out loud. “Together?”
Maybe it’s just fucking.
Don’t let it be anything more serious than that.
“Right now or…in general?”
This is insanity, man.
“Yeah, to both.”
I end the call, unable to listen to another word.
So my fiancé caught me cheating, then my dad took her to bed.
Yet she loved me, right?
That was a narrow escape.
What is she now, my fucking stepmom?
“Ugh.” I drop my head into my hands, wondering if I can start drinking now.
I’ve got nowhere to be.
My phone beeps, and I glance down to see it’s Natalya.
I don’t need her giving me grief now.
Hey. Just checking in to see if you’re okay. How’s Alison? She won’t take my calls.
Hey. All good, got a sore face if you want to kiss it better…
Are you serious right now? You spoke to me like shit last night. You also made me fucking lie!
Are you coming round or not?
I’d been banging Natalya for the past week, technically since I was single.
We’d hooked up in a bar, both completely fucked off our tits on coke and beer. I doubt Alison even knew we did that shit.
It was dynamite sex, though.
Maybe because she was forbidden.
My cock twitches at the thought of her sitting on it, and I know I need to play nice.
Nat, come see me. Please. I know I’m a cunt, but you love it.
I’d hurt her last night, but I was out of my mind with rage and jealousy. I knew Alison had slept with someone else, but Natalya didn’t even know who.
It was only when I had her up against the wall in the restroom, her legs around my waist and her tongue down my throat, that I saw my dad calling Alison.
I was jealous, fuck it, I still am.
But I’m going to get out of my mind drunk today with Alison’s best friend and hopefully shoot my load all over her big tits.
Not a bad day all around, I’d say.
Be there soon. Your house, yeah? Is Alison there?
Yeah, I thought we’d have a threesome. No, dummy, she’s not. They’re off on a trip somewhere.
I don’t think I’ve got any powder left; otherwise, the sex would be out of this world.
Beer would have to do. Whiskey too.
I feel better now that I know I’m going to be banging Nat, and I drag my sorry ass to the shower.
Who’d have either of them?