She had a son. A grown son. Of course I didn't know this. I didn't even know about her or about anything.
We had to watch American Ninja Warrior. We had enjoyed Ninja Warrior but my husband told me the son of a woman who worked down the hall from him was entered in the American trials. He was going to win and kick ass at the Japanese event.
We watched and I rooted for American Patrick whose mom worked down the hall from my husband. He did well. My husband held me on the couch while we watched. We cooked dinner together while we watched. Yay, Patrick! Go!
Weeks later, just as I was beginning to breath again, I looked at the leader board for American Ninja Warrior.
Patrick Cusic. Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.....
Humiliation. My husband was in the kitchen. What's the last name of the guy you were rooting for? The one whose mother works down the hall from you? He didn't look up. I don't remember, he said.
Could it possibly be Cusic?
I don't remember.
Lair. Cheater. Liar.
He is the son of the woman you are screwing.
Oh Lord, won't this ever end? You cheat on me. You surf porn. You engage in Internet sex. You cruised Craig's List. Now this. This.
Jesus Christ.
