I Read That My Wife Slept With My Friend

Wyatt did not leave after dinner.

He slouched on the couch and told Queenie to cut some fruit. “Queenie, peel the apples. I don’t eat the skin.”

Queenie answered from the kitchen as I sat in the single chair and watched the basketball game on TV.

Wyatt lit a cigarette and tapped the ash onto the carpet.

“Calvin, how’s your company doing lately? Is the cash flow okay?”

I answered quietly, “It’s fine. Why do you ask?”

He blew out a smoke ring. “I’ve had my eye on a Ferrari for a long time. Cover me with two million dollars for a bit.”

It was not a request. He expected me to hand it over.

I used to think that friends did not sweat the small stuff.

However, it turned out that I was nothing but their cash machine and a thorough fool.

I replied calmly, “The project’s holding up some funds. I can’t spare that kind of money.”

Wyatt knitted his brows as he stubbed out his cigarette in the unfinished fruit platter.

“Come on, Calvin. That’s disappointing. Are you saying that our friendship isn’t worth two million dollars?”

Just then, Queenie stepped out carrying the peeled apples.

Wyatt glanced at her. “You be the judge, Queenie. Calvin’s made it big now, so he’s looking down at his poor old friend.”

Queenie lowered her eyes and avoided mine, but she sided with Wyatt.

“Wyatt helped you back then, Calvin. Now that you’ve got money, just lend him some.”

I smiled faintly. Wyatt had indeed helped me once.

Back in university, he took a hit for me when some thugs cornered me in an alley.

However, I had spent the last decade repaying that debt.

I had bought him a house and a car, secured him a job, and even covered his gambling debts.

Did he expect me to repay him with my wife as well? How absurd.

I swallowed my anger and kept my expression neutral as I turned to them.

“I really don’t have the money.”

Wyatt’s expression immediately darkened.

“Fine, don’t lend it. What a miser. Queenie, try this apple. It’s really sweet.”

He deliberately offered her the half-bitten apple.

Queenie stole a panicked glance at me. When she saw I was still glued to the TV, she quickly bit into it.

Wyatt gently brushed his thumb across her lips. “Good girl.”

He chuckled lightly and headed for the bathroom. “I’m going to take a piss.”

Barely a minute had passed before Queenie got up from the couch.

“I’ll check the laundry in the washing machine.”

The machine sat right next to the bathroom.

Soon, the sound of running water drowned out all other sounds inside.

I took out my phone and opened the forum.

The poster had added a new update.

[That fool won’t lend me money. Fine. I’ll have his wife cool me off with her mouth.

[I’m in his bathroom now, while he’s out there watching TV.]

The attached photo was taken from above.

A woman was kneeling on the floor, and her hair was in disarray. Even though the image was blurred, I recognized the outfit.

It was the same loungewear Queenie was wearing.

There was no way I was going to let them mess around under my nose.

After taking a screenshot, I locked my phone. I strode to the bathroom and tested the door handle.

As expected, it was locked from the inside.

I rapped sharply. “Queenie, are you in there?”

The sound of running water stopped briefly before it grew louder.

“Ah, yes! I’m finishing up with the mop!” Queenie’s voice trembled. “Why?”

“I need to use the bathroom.”

“J-Just a second! I’m almost done!”

A flurry of frantic rustling came from the inside, followed by the sound of the toilet flushing.

Three minutes later, the door swung open.

Wyatt stood in the doorway, his belt still undone.

He scowled. “What’s the rush? Can’t a guy pee in peace?”

Queenie stood behind him, and her face was bright red. There was a suspicious gleam at the corner of her lips.

With her head lowered, she hurried past me toward the kitchen. “I need to rinse my mouth with some water.”

Wyatt nudged me aside and returned to the living room. “The bathroom stinks. Go on, Calvin.”

I stepped inside, and the air smelled awful.

A wet palm print was still visible on the bathroom mirror.

I stared at my reflection.

Keeping my expression impassive, I turned on the faucet and rinsed the palm print away.

Then, I pulled a miniature camera from my pocket and stuck it in a hidden spot beneath the sink.

It pointed directly at the toilet and shower area.

Since Wyatt and Queenie liked playing with fire, I decided to turn up the heat.