Catching your husband in the act is a gigantic smack in the face. Seeing him not want to let go of her embrace, is a sucker punch. I entered, almost willing to endure a threesome, and my husband just walked out of the room.
He left the two of us behind to battle it out. Richie, champion that he is, non-chalently went into the living room and turned on the TV. I wasted no time getting the bitch off my kitchen table.
“Alexa, off!”, I demanded.
Defending their behavior, I heard a distant, “Leave her alone.”
Still not understanding the madness, I walked to our threshold and reasonably stated, “You’re watching TV now, you don’t need her to play you love songs.”
Having an answer for his torrid behavior, Richie defended, “She was playing background music.”
I had killed the mood. This round was a knockout. I went back to my corner and my affair with Mr. Clean.
<Refer to the acceptance of our Alexa relationship here.>