Boyd had been right there, stoking the fire: "Val, I'm not trying to steal Melanie from you. We're just friends."
"So there's no need to hurt yourself on purpose just to compete with me for her attention."
Melanie heard that and immediately turned on me, calling me pathetic and childish.
That night, something inside me shattered. I didn't sleep at all.
A while later.
A message from Melanie lit up my phone: Boyd took a fall just now. I'm worried something might be wrong, so I'll stay with him tonight.
This wasn't the first time.
Every weekend, without fail, Boyd would suddenly feel unwell here or uncomfortable there, clinging to Melanie and refusing to let her go.
And Melanie always said yes.
The next morning.
Sylvia and I were eating breakfast.
The moment Melanie stepped out of the bedroom, her brow furrowed. "Where's mine and Boyd's?"
"You want to eat, make it yourself."
I didn't even look up.
What?
Melanie's temper flared. She slammed her palm on the table. "You've completely lost your mind over that woman."
"Ignoring your own wife for some stranger."
Sylvia scrambled to her feet. "I'm sorry, Melanie. Here, take mine."
She picked up her untouched bowl of soup noodles and held it out.
"Get lost!"