As I began to come out of my drunken cloud that I was in for the week and a half that I had been in, while staying at my dad’s, I began to look for a house to rent.

     I wanted a 3 bedroom house with a garage. Nothing else mattered. I needed the rooms for my daughters, and the garage because I am a man, and with a ’69 Chevy pickup, I needed it. So I looked through the papers and the internet.

     All while I was living this way, I kept in contact with my beastly wife’s best friend. She had just got out of relationship with an aquaintance from my work. I should never had set them up and I warned her, but it ended with a mess. Their relationship started before I moved from the cave, and ended at the same time I moved out. So we had a little something in common.

     We mostly texted each other. She sent me messages bitching about her shit, and I sent her texts bitching about EVERYTHING in my life. I give her loads of credit for coming back for more.

     She is the one who sent a rude message my way and I waited a day, and sent her a less biting one back. From that moment on we kept the line of communication open.

     At one point, we decided to keep the chatter to ourselves. We did not want our one common bond, my beastly wife, who happened to be her friend, ever finding out about us texting.

     I was at a friend’s house, one particular night, as she and I texted a few times back and forth. He and his wife warned me to stay away. She may be bad news because of her friendship with the beast. I shrugged them off, telling them I was ok. After explaining to them our arrangement, they seemed ok, but still a little worried for me.

     I had found a house a few miles from my dad’s and was very excited about it. I told everyone about it. It felt as though I had cleared up the mess in my life a little more, the clouds were getting thinner, and brighter days were coming.

     I kept the house finding, and especially location, secret from my beast wife. She made it a habit to call me early in the morning before I had to get up for work. She made the calls to find out what I was up to, to rub it in that she had a boyfriend who she liked to fuck, and, I believe, to make my dad and stepmom mad for the ringing they had to hear that early in the morning.

     I had to hear about how perfect her life was, how perfect her boyfriend was, and how much happier she was with me gone. I made arrangements during one of these calls to come over and get the rest of my stuff from her house.

     She wanted to know where I was going to put it all. She made fun of how small my dad’s house was and how I couldn’t put it all there. She drilled me and drilled me about what I was up to, so I finally gave in and told her about the house.

     She wanted to know where it was, but I would not tell her. I felt she was crafty enough with the Internet that she could find out that way. I would not tell her.

     I did, however, tell her best friend. She agreed not to tell her about it. She promised. And with this information, THAT freindship began to deteriorate. They began to start to fight more often in the weeks ahead.

     It was a sign to everyone around the beast, that she was literally losing control of people she thought she had control of.

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