Wandering Minds

*CHRIS*

Work was still bustling with customers needing various things. I was fine with that until I encountered Theodore. That encounter was truly dreadful. He’s such a pain in the ass that I believe he wakes up and devises ways to ruin others’ days. Today, I was unfortunately on his list.

Theodore was an elderly, frail man with bowed legs and a cane. He had white hair on the sides of his head but a bald middle. He wore thick, square glasses that often dangled around his neck on a string instead of resting on his face.

He had a peculiar habit of waving his cane when he was upset, disregarding who was on the receiving end.

I attempted to avoid him by leaving the main area, but unfortunately, I wasn’t quick enough.

“Where’s that asshole Chris?” he yelled, causing everyone to look around as if this wasn’t a place of business.

“Chris! Where’s that son of a bitch!” he continued, his voice filled with anger.

I came around the corner and approached him with the intention of calming him down before he lost his temper completely.

“Theodore! What brings you here?” I asked.

“I got my car back, but it made a knocking noise when I drove,” he replied.

“When did it start?” I inquired.

“The very day I left this dump of a shop,” Theodore retorted.

“Come on, man, you don’t have to insult me. Why did you leave without saying anything?” I asked.

“Do you think I’m lying?” Theodore demanded.

“No, I’m just saying it’s odd that you’re saying it happened before leaving the shop, but that was well over two weeks ago, and you’re just now coming back,” I explained.

That was the peculiar thing about Theodore. He always spoke poorly about the shop but continued to be a patron. This made absolutely no sense. He’s been coming here since my dad first opened its doors over 35 years ago. Dad never had any issues with this guy, so part of me thinks he just misses him.

“I never had these issues with your father. When’s the old bastard coming back?” Theodore asked.

“He should be back soon. In the meantime, is there anything I can do for you?” I offered.

“Other than call him to come look at it, hell no!” Theodore exclaimed.

I shook my head, exclaiming, “You’re impossible, old man!”

“You’re terrible at your job,” he retorted.

Turning to Carlos, I instructed him to retrieve Theodore’s keys and maneuver his car around the back. Theodore had certainly resisted before surrendering them, but after being informed that we would lend him a loner car, he finally acquiesced and departed. That man was truly a headache.

The rest of the day proceeded as usual, and I left after closing up shop.

As I got into the car, I immediately began rolling up a blunt. The day had certainly earned this. I sat there for ten minutes, contemplating my next move, before deciding to head home.

Upon arriving, I noticed that Mira was absent. Throughout the entire drive, I had been contemplating all the things I wanted to say to her since she had returned. However, all those thoughts vanished when I saw that she was gone.

Suddenly, I recalled her mentioning that she was at the school. So, I made my way there. Upon arriving, I cautiously drove around the parking lot, hoping to spot her car. There it was, nestled in the corner of the lot, a sleek black Infiniti G37x. That car was as beautiful as she was, perfectly complementing her.

As I approached the door, a tall, muscular figure with dark hair caught my attention. And that cocky ass walk was unmistakable—the same man from the club.

I instantly felt aggravated. We exchanged a few words, and I must admit, he was bold. I didn’t want to create any more trouble at her workplace, so I decided to leave. I didn’t want her to be angry with me, but I couldn’t help but wonder if she had known he would be there and had intentionally not invited me.

I couldn’t simply let this go. I drove home, replaying the events in my mind and contemplating how I would address everything to her.

Unfortunately, she didn’t return that night, so I would have to wait until the next day.

Friday arrived, and it was just another ordinary day at work. However, I couldn’t stop thinking about seeing that man up close. The way he looked, as if he had something over me. I felt a sense of foreboding, as if challenging him would be a grave mistake.

I returned home to find Mira finally home. She had cooked, and the aroma was irresistible. I indulged in a bowl of her delicious meal, watching her with a mix of curiosity and suspicion, as if her every move could reveal her secrets.

Mira was composed and calculated, never turning her head or meeting my gaze until I found a slight crack in her demeanor. All I dared to ask was why I wasn’t invited.

She responded that she couldn’t risk having me there. To which I asked what she was risking. Instead of answering directly, she deflected and walked upstairs. Then, I noticed something alarming—a bright red, quarter-sized hickey on the left side of her neck. It was clear as day.

The pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. Last night, when he had said he wouldn’t leave her alone, the way she had positioned herself downstairs, and the way she had gotten defensive about a seemingly insignificant question—all these things pointed to a hidden truth.

The sight of the hickey made my head spin, and all I could see was red. I followed her upstairs, determined to ask the one question that had been on my mind for months—was she still having sex with him? I wanted her to confess the truth to me. But she didn’t.

My initial anger transformed into blind rage. In that moment, she had played right in my face. I couldn’t get mad at the betrayal because I had done it first. True, but lying while taunting me with this man’s mark on her neck, while still being my girlfriend, was simply too much. It was disrespectful, and I couldn’t take it anymore.