Matio Rodriguez
Thrown out.
I'd been thrown out of my own house. By my wife.
I sat in my car, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. The sting on my cheek was nothing compared to the echo of her words.
Did she really just slap me and throw me out?
I looked back at the house, half-expecting her to open the door and tell me it was a mistake. But nothing. Just darkness and silence.
What the hell just happened?
I tried to replay it in my mind. The guy, her drunk, stumbling in, his hands on her waist. The way she stood up to me, fiercer than I’d ever seen her.
And then that slap.
I touched my cheek again, half in disbelief. I’d pushed her too far. I wanted to make her feel broken, but I didn’t expect her to fight back. I thought she’d just take it, like she alway
