My Wife’s Lover Pays the Bills

I returned home one evening from a long day of combing the city doing some job searching. The months have been gruelling since I lost my previous job at a banking firm. The country’s in a recession, even though nobody seems to want to fucking acknowledge it. No thanks to the variant Covid virus that’s still ripping the world a new arsehole since last year. Plenty of people have been living on the dole — either that or hanging on to what little Dollars they have left. As for me, my savings ran dry months ago, and things haven’t been the same since.

My feet were dragging as I shuffled my way up the flight of stairs to get to my apartment. My tie hung loosely around my collar. I wanted nothing but to lay my head on my bed and wait for my wife Monica to return home. Monica had successfully gotten herself a job working for a rustic loanshark outfit. How she managed to get that job, I’ve no frigging idea. Like me, she had lost her previous one until a friend clued her into this establishment that needed a secretary to handle their phones and accounts. The outfit had some dubious history about it, but what the hell, a job is fucking a job. So far, she was the main breadwinner in my home; who am I to complain about a good thing?

I sighed with relief when I came to my door and slipped my key in but stopped when I meet some obstruction. I frowned when I tried the door…