My flowers for my wife in my house. I pulled out my phone and called the house. Lydia answered on the second ring. Hello. Hey, babe.
Just wanted to let you know I made it to Chicago safely. Oh, that's good. I was just just finishing up some work with Chris. Chris is there at our house. Yes, we're going over the Henderson files.
You know how complicated that account is, right? Well, don't work too hard. I love you. Love you, too. Bye.
She hung up quickly. I could see them through the living room window. Chris's hand already on her back, leading her toward the stairs. I waited 30 minutes, then made my move. I still had my house key, obviously.
I crept through the front door as quietly as possible, hearing sounds from upstairs that made my stomach turn. I tiptoed to the hall closet and grabbed my old baseball bat, the Louisville slugger I'd used in high school, the one Lydia always complained about me keeping. Then I called Lydia's parents. Alan, it's Dave. I need you and Judith to come to the house right now.
What's wrong? She's here with him right now. We'll be right there. I waited on the front porch. The Heartwells arrived 10 minutes later, Alan's face grim.
Judith clutching her purse like a tool. Are you sure about this, Dave? Judith whispered. Listen, I said. We stood there in the cool evening air, and the sounds from our bedroom window were unmistakable.
Dear God, Judith breathed. I unlocked the front door. After you. We climbed the stairs together. Three people united in righteous anger.
The bedroom door was closed but not locked. I turned the handle slowly and pushed it open. They were so absorbed in each other that they didn't notice us at first. Chris was wearing my bathrobe, my favorite robe, the one Lydia gave me for Christmas 3 years ago. Lydia was wearing nothing but the pearl necklace her grandmother had left her.
Well, well, I said loudly. The Henderson project is certainly more hands-on than I expected. Lydia screamed and grabbed for the sheet. Chris jumped up so fast he tripped over his own feet and crashed into my dresser, sending my watch collection scattering across the floor. Dave, Lydia gasped.
"What are you? You're supposed to be in Chicago." "Surprise," I said. I brought some guests. That's when she saw her parents standing behind me. Judith was staring at her daughter with a mixture of horror and disgust.
Alan was staring at Chris with pure rage. "Mom, Dad, what are you doing here?" "We came to see what kind of woman we raised," Alan said, his voice shaking with fury. "Apparently, we failed." "Chris was frantically trying to put on his pants, hopping around on one foot like an idiot." "Mr. Hartwell, Mrs. Hartwell, this isn't what it looks like." "It looks like you're screwing my daughter in her husband's bed while wearing his bathrobe," Alan said. What exactly should it look like? I can explain, Lydia said, clutching the sheet to her chest.
Please do, I said, leaning against the door frame with my arms crossed. I'm fascinated to hear how this is all a big misunderstanding. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. What was she going to say? That she tripped and fell on Chris's Johnson.
You disgust me, Judith said quietly. Both of you in this house, in this bed where my granddaughter was conceived. That hit home. Lydia started crying, but they weren't tears of remorse. They were tears of someone who'd been caught and was feeling sorry for herself.
"Everyone just needs to calm down," Chris said, finally getting his pants on. "We can work this out like adults." "Adults," I laughed. "Adults don't sneak around behind their spouse's back. Adults don't screw their co-worker's wife in his own bed. Adults don't lie about working late when they're really working under my wife." "Dave, please." Lydia said, "Can we talk about this privately?" "No," I said.
"Privacy is what got us into this mess. From now on, everything is public." Chris tried to push past me toward the door, but I blocked his path. "Where do you think you're going, champ?" "I'm leaving. This is between you and your wife." "Oh, no. You're very much part of this conversation.
Sit down." "I don't have to listen to this." I picked up my baseball bat from where I'd leaned it against the wall. I said, "Sit down." Chris sat on the edge of my bed, still wearing my robe over his hastily pulled on pants. The irony wasn't lost on me. "Here's what's going to happen," I said, addressing both of them. "First, you're going to tell Lydia's parents exactly how long this has been going on." "Dave, please," Lydia whispered.
"How long?" Allan demanded. Lydia looked at the floor. "6 months." "Six months," I repeated. 6 months of working late and business dinners and team building exercises. 6 months of lying to my face every single day.
It wasn't supposed to happen. Chris said, "It just developed naturally." "Naturally," Judith said. "There's nothing natural about adultery, young man. Mrs. Hartwell, you don't understand the pressure we're under at work. Lydia and I, we connect on a professional level that Shut up." I said, "Just shut up with your corporate buzzword, Bez.
You wanted to screw my wife, so you did. At least have the balls to admit it. Alan stepped forward. Lydia, look at me. She raised her eyes to meet her father's gaze.
Your mother and I raised you better than this. We taught you about commitment, about honor, about keeping your word. What happened to those values? I don't know, she whispered. I felt trapped, like my life was just routine.
Chris made me feel alive again. Alive," I repeated. "Well, let's see how alive you feel when everyone at your office sees the security footage." Chris went pale. What security footage? I smiled.
The cameras I installed 3 weeks ago. They've been recording everything. Every kiss, every touch, every time you've been in my house screwing my wife. High definition, perfect audio quality. You can't do that.
Lydia said that's illegal. Actually, it's not. It's my house. And I have every right to install security cameras. I also have every right to share that footage with whoever I choose.
Dave, please, she said, tears streaming down her face. Now, think about Maya. Think about our daughter. I am thinking about Maya. I'm thinking about how she deserves better than a mother who lies and cheats and brings strange men into our home.
I'm not a strange man, Chris protested. I've been to your barbecues, your Christmas parties. Right. You have been to our parties where you ate my food, drank my beer, and planned how to seduce my wife. That actually makes it worse, doesn't it?
Judith was staring at her daughter with disgust. How could you do this to your family, to your marriage vows? You don't understand what it's like being married to him, Lydia said, gesturing at me. He's always working, always covered in sawdust, never wants to go anywhere or do anything exciting. So, you decided to do someone exciting instead, I said.
Problem solved. Alan shook his head. We're leaving. Judith, come on. Wait, I said.
There's more. I pulled out my phone and opened the photo gallery. Chris, you might want to see this. I showed him a picture I'd taken of his BMW in our driveway with a clear shot of his license plate. I've been documenting everything.