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Best thing after MacDonald's chicken

Author: Moyo
last update Last Updated: 2025-08-03 19:51:52

Rosa’s POV

I stared at the phone for what seemed like eternity, looking at the wallpaper - a picture of me and Charly during our last summer vacation in Fiji. That had just been a month ago.

And now, someone was missing him.

I stared blankly, even when the screen light had disappeared.

Patra had been right. And I was wrong.

A classless bitch somewhere was screwing my man.

My man?

It tasted like rotten eggs in my mouth now. Charly was not ‘my’ man. Not when he was sharing his dick with someone else.

The screen lit up again. I read the notification before it vanished.

‘Did you see the nude pictures? What did you think of it?’

Nude pictures?

What the-?

I grabbed the phone from the nightstand. That was when I realised that my fingerprint was no longer saved on his phone.

The bastard!

And there he was - just a few feet from me - sleeping and snoring like he was the best thing after MacDonald’s chicken.

No way I was going to sleep tonight without seeing those nude pictures and finding out the truth.

“Charly,” I called over his light snores.

No response. Not even a stir.

“Charly?” My voice went higher by an octave.

If he woke up, I would challenge him. But I pretty much preferred breaking the news my own way.

I took the fingerprint sensor toward his finger, waiting for the phone to unlock. Angrily, I threw his hand back to the bed and groped to the bathroom.

I needed space to absorb the shock I was about to receive.

My butt found the toilet seat to be the most comfortable place to welcome Charly’s adultery proofs. I slid to his chat app right away. And there it was.

Messages, dating back to a year, long before Fiji and his fake promises of being a better partner. Bank transactions to her account.

Taylor Casatelli.

And nudes. Her pussy right up on the screen facing me. Wet. Her pierced nipples dripping with some liquid. Countess videos of the same blonde woman. And when I thought I had seen it all, Charly’s dick stared at me, a slap to the face.

“What the actual fuck!” I screamed.

He was sending dick photos to another woman and claiming I was the problem?

Now I knew why he was distant. I couldn't believe he was choosing some pussy that wasn't even properly shaved over me.

The sound of my voice should have woken him up if he wasn’t busy dreaming of another woman.

***

“You’re no different,” was the first thing Patra told me the next day, when I explained the texts I had seen.

Why did I keep going to her when I knew she was this blunt? Right. Because she was the only friend I had. Way back since college days and when I was still smitten by Charles Baker. And right now, the mention of his name was repugnant.

“I’m his wife, Patra. My face is right up his stupid wallpaper and he's sending nudes to another woman!”

She scoffed. “I’m sorry, Rose. But I warned you, didn’t I? I told you your golden pussy wasn’t enough to keep a man.”

I rolled my eyes. “No, Pat. He isn’t deserving of me.”

“What you gonna do? Divorce him after five years of being together.”

Two. Three years as a girlfriend didn’t count. And I was going to do exactly that.

Patra, always finding a way to read me, gawked. “You aren’t thinking of doing that, babe.”

“The hell I am. I don't give men like Charly second chances.”

“Men like Charly?” She raised her brows. “They the men of the town, honey. He’s good looking and he’s got good money. The moment you leave, he’s bringing another ass to replace your shit.”

“Then he was never mine,” I maintained. “Besides, have you seen me?”

Patra hadn't seen me naked. Maybe my office outfit had made her forget how sexy I looked. And I had only stuck to wearing loose dresses because I respected our marriage. Hell, I was done with that.

“What are you gonna do?” Patra's voice barged into my thoughts again. It was morning and as usual, Mr. Kane had left with a new face, warning me expressly not to bother him even if the company was on fire. From the looks of things, I knew he wouldn’t be returning that day.

Good for me.

The last thing I wanted to hear right now was the maons of another woman and heck, I was so angry today that I could scream at him if he said something annoying

Patra sat easily on my desk, her legs crossed at her knees and schooled me about how to go for a divorce if I wanted to win.

“You need evidence, babe,” she was saying. “They should have a usual hangout. Get them on video. You can't win a divorce or even get alimony based on nude pictures and sex chats.”

She was damned right. And I hated to think that so badly. A month ago, I thought Charly had listened to my cry for change and we were going to be the best couple in town. And now, he was already fucking some Taylor bitch.

And now, we were discussing alimony like it was a birthday party.

“If she sent nude pictures and a ‘missing you’ test, it means they would meet up today.”

Patra was analysing the whole thing but I was not concerned. I still loved Charly. He was the only man I knew in five solid years. How could I go from I love you to I hate you that quickly?

“Did you hear what I said?”

I cleared my throat. “Pat. You’re mighty helpful. But I have to think about this. It’s a divorce, Pat. Not some party. It means separation from the one man I had known for years.”

She nodded and stood up, like she wasn’t going to say anything else. But I could bet my favourite ball pen that she would.

And she did.

“Mr. Kane - the old man Kane - is not showing up today. And neither is Alex. It’s your chance. Sneak home. You might find the bitch riding your man on your matrimonial bed.”

I bit my lips. I wanted to chase her off but the news about Mr. Kane not showing up bothered me. I was concerned for the old man. He was supposed to be at the company for the handover to his son.

“Why isn’t he coming?” I asked. “I’d have loved to request a change from working under his son. For freaking sake, I might be getting divorced soon. The last thing I need is a man like Alex ordering me around and getting under my skin.”

But she looked at me like I had asked a priest for a p**n video from his phone.

“Didn’t you hear?”

Hear what? I never hear anything these days except Charly’s stupid laugh, his distant snores, and the moans coming out of Alex's office.

“The original Kane - their father - he’s seriously ill…and has a few years left.”

That was not the kind of news I was expecting. Not poor Mr. Kane is sick.

“I’m so sorry.”

She grimaced. “Don’t be. At least, not to me. Everyone knows old man Kane is and was a brutal business man. A lot of businesses in the city closed off because of him. Now, they’re all waiting for his death to start off again because none of his sons can be like him.”

Alex did look like he could be brutal. At least, if not in business, I could imagine another ‘B’ place where he could show brutality. I laughed at the silly joke, forgetting my dilemma for a while.

“I’ll catch you later,” Patra was saying. “The bosses may not be around but there are cameras everywhere and I’ve got a desk of assignments.”

And so did I. But I couldn’t stop thinking of what Patra said. What if Taylor was actually in my house, right in my bedroom?

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