Cheating Wife's Double Life

My father-in-law said he wanted to experience "how the young folks have fun these days," so I took him to my wife's newly opened upscale cocktail bar for a quiet drink.

I’d just finished ordering him a custom cocktail when a man from a booth across the room swaggered over, glass in hand.

His eyes scanned the drink menu on our table, and a condescending smirk twisted his lips.

"Only ordering the cheapest well drinks?" he sneered. "Brought the old man here to enjoy the free air conditioning? Trash like you belongs in a dive bar. Who even let you in here?"

Anger burned in my chest. I stood up, my jaw clenched. "We're paying customers. What's it to you?"

But before I could say another word, his face darkened with pure rage. He snatched the half-finished beer bottle from our table and smashed it on my head.

"My girl owns this place!" he snarled. "Even if I crack your skull open, I can afford the payout! You filthy pauper—either get on your knees and lick my shoes dry, or get the hell out of my sight. You're an eyesore."

The beer dripped down my face. My hands trembled with fury as I wiped it away.

Then, a cold calm settled over me. I opened my phone, switched to the camera, and went live.

"Alright, everyone," I said into the screen. "You won't want to miss this. We're going live to catch my cheating wife and see the double life she's been leading."

[Holy crap! Nick, you're bleeding! Who did this to you?!]

["Ashley's double life"? What does that mean? I just came from her finance stream—she said she was going home to have dinner with you tonight!]

[Who's that guy with the tacky bleached hair? Looks like a cheap knockoff trying to act rich.]

[I know this place! It's that new high-end bar. Rumor is Ashley is the real owner!]

[Wait—if Ashley owns the bar, then that guy… is he her side piece?!]

The live chat exploded, comments flying too fast to read, a blizzard of shock and fury.

The man across from me snapped his lighter open, lit a cigarette, and blew a slow, contemptuous plume of smoke into the air.

"Your wife? You?" He barked a derisive laugh. "You look too broke to even know what Ashley looks like. Stop embarrassing yourself. Take that old relic and get out before I have you thrown out."

I was about to retort when my eyes locked onto the watch on his wrist.

My blood boiled. That was mine.

Just yesterday, Ashley had cupped my hand tenderly, her voice soft and full of concern.

"Nick, the strap's a bit loose. Let me take it to my master's apprentice to adjust it, maybe get it polished too. I want it to look perfect on you tomorrow."

I'd laughed at her fussing, touched, and handed it over. I never dreamed I'd see it gleaming on this stranger's wrist tonight.

The live audience spotted it, too.

[NO WAY! That watch! That's Nick's! The custom Patek—it's one of a kind!]

[He's right! Ashley gifted it to him on their anniversary! It was all over the news! Why is that punk wearing it?!]

The man saw the comments. A vicious, triumphant grin spread across his face as he deliberately raised his wrist, flaunting the timepiece.

"So it's true. You really are her husband. Perfect."

He leaned in, his voice a taunt.

"This watch is proof of who Ashley really loves. You're just a placeholder. The man she gives her heart to—" he thumped his chest, "—is me."

"You never deserved to wear it." My fists clenched so tight my knuckles turned white.

"Nick, let's go. He's not worth it," my father-in-law urged, his face grim as he recognized the watch.

But the man sneered and moved to block our path. "Leaving? I don't think so, old man."

He snatched up a bottle of red wine and poured it over my father-in-law's head. The dark red liquid cascaded down, staining his shirt and dignity.

"You're streaming this, right? Good. Let your whole audience watch as you and this senile fool get on your knees and lick the wine off my shoes!"

He gestured sharply to the group of black-suited security guards who had gathered.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Restrain them!"

Then he stared directly into the camera lens. "When Ashley gets here, I'll make sure she has a front-row seat to watch you two pathetic worms beg for mercy."