AT LEAST

MITCH'S POV

I was staring at the TV replaying highlights of the match we’d lost 3-1 with bottles on the table in front of me.

I cracked open another one, trying to flush down the frustration inside my chest.

My childhood friend Jake walked in from the kitchen, towel over his shoulder, and raised an eyebrow at the growing graveyard of bottles.

“Dude. It’s barely past noon. You didn’t even go to work today. This about the game? Come on, man. It’s just football.”

I let out a dry laugh and took a long pull.

“Nah. The match is the least of my problems.”

He dropped into the armchair across from me, already grinning like he knew something juicy was coming.

“Then what’s got you trying to pickle yourself this early? You came to my place yet you are not happy? Talk to me,man. I am your best friend.”

I stared at the screen for a second, watching the opposition celebrate another goal.

“If you had the wife waiting for me at home, you’d be drinking too.”

Jake barked out a laugh.

“Bro, Lena? She’s sweet. Always has been. Don't do her like that".

“Sweet?” I muttered. “She’s ballooned up to three hundred pounds, man. We've got no kids yet what's her excuse? Every time I try to touch her now it feels like I’m punishing myself. Half the time I can’t even get it up. It’s fucking embarrassing.”

Jake shook his head, still chuckling.

“Come on, is it really that bad?”

“It’s worse, you will never understand because you got someone like Sarah” I said, peeling at the label on my bottle.

“Lena’s always crying about something. Walking around the house like a sad, defeated cow, expecting me to still look at her the way I did when we first met. I sold my motorcycle for her back then. Took care of her when she was stressing over bills. And this is what I get? A fat, ugly wife who kills my sex drive. Dude...if you are in my shoes you did cry every night...my worst mistake. She’s just… not the woman I married anymore.”

Jake sighed.

"Lena is a great wife...yes she lost herself but with good workout routine I believe she will snap back.....you should take it easy..on her.... remember she's your wife".

"Easy for you to say".

I muttered.

Right then Sarah walked in wearing a tight tank top and black yoga pants that clung to every toned curve.

Three kids later and she still looked like this — flat stomach, perky ass, the kind of body that made a man forget his own name.

She carried a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast, setting it down in front of me with a warm smile.

“Breakfast, boys. Saved some for you, Mitch.”

As she leaned over, I caught the flash of red lace from her thong peeking above the waistband. My eyes lingered longer than they should have. When was the last time Lena wore anything that wasn’t stretched-out cotton?

Jake noticed and glared at me.

He pulled Sarah down onto his lap, kissed her hard, one hand gripping her ass while the other tangled in her hair. The kiss was possessive, loud enough to make a point.

“Hey,” he said when they broke apart, eyes locked on me. “Watch it, man. That’s my wife you’re eyeing like that.”

I raised my hands, forcing a grin. “Relax, bro. I was just appreciating. She looks incredible. You’re a lucky bastard, Jake. Still tight after three kids. I’d kill for a woman who looked like that waiting at home.”

Sarah blushed and kissed Jake again quickly. “I have to feed the baby. Be right back.”

My gaze followed the small wet circle forming on her tank top over one nipple as she stood up.

When she left the room, Jake shot me a hard stare. “What the fuck was that?”

“Relax,” I said, laughing it off. “I know I’m that good-looking to make you intimidated, but I’m not trying to break bro code.”

“Shut up, you man-whore,” he snapped, half-joking.

I laughed, but deep down, a heavy knot of regret twisted in my gut.

I wished I could rewind time and choose differently.

Marry someone who actually stayed in shape. Someone whose body still turned me on instead of shutting me down. Someone like Sarah.

Back when Lena and I were dating, she was lean, energetic, the kind of girl who made heads turn.

Now…I am sure my friends laugh at my back because of her..

“Come on, let’s eat,” Jake said.

I took a bite of the breakfast. It was… fine. Edible. But nothing special. The eggs were a little rubbery, the seasoning barely there. As I chewed, Jake moaned like he was having a great experience.

“Babe!” he shouted toward the bedroom. “This is fire. Best breakfast you’ve made in weeks. Restaurant quality, I swear.”

“Thank you!” Sarah called back, sounding genuinely happy.

I forced a smile, but the food tasted like cardboard in my mouth. Lena’s cooking was on another level — rich stews, perfectly spiced soups that actually tasted like home. Even when I was pissed at her, I had to admit that much. No one else had ever come close.

My phone buzzed on the coffee table. Lena’s name lit up the screen.

Honey, you didn’t eat breakfast. Should I prepare your favorite soup? I’m at work now, so I can pick up the ingredients on my way home.

For a split second, my stomach actually growled at the thought. Lena’s soup was that good — thick, flavorful, comforting in a way nothing else was.

I could practically taste it.

But I locked the screen and tossed the phone aside.

She needed to understand I was still angry and still disgusted by her.

Punishing her with this silent treatment will make her see how offended I was.

If I replied nicely, she’d think everything was okay, and I wasn’t ready to let her off the hook yet.