The Five Seconds King

Chapter 002

NEAL

My pulse sprang back to life, the deafening pound ringing through my skull. What the...

In response, she slapped his shoulder playfully and giggled. His hand moved back to her waist and then... They walked in.

Together.

My hands were curled into fists already without me knowing it. My gut was screaming. It couldn't be. Elisa wasn't like that. She loved me. I knew she did.

Right?

But that voice... that small voice in the back of my head whispered something else.

It said: "You saw it. You know what you saw."

I crossed the street like a damn zombie, my legs moving on their own. When I reached the hotel doors, I paused. The warm air from the lobby hit me in the face as I stepped in and scanned the place.

There they were.

At the front desk.

My wife... standing beside him.

He was talking to the receptionist, and she was looking up at him with this... softness. This tenderness I hadn't seen in weeks since her "Company project" began.

I felt sick.

She tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. The same way she did when she was nervous. But she didn't look nervous. She looked... happy.

My jaw clenched so tight I feared if I tightened it any harder, it might crack. Then the receptionist handed them a keycard.

And they both smiled.

That was a room key! They were booking a fucking room.

I felt like the floor under me cracked open. My knees almost buckled. My head was spinning. I wanted to scream, I wanted to punch something, I wanted to run over there and drag her out of the damn hotel by her hair and ask her why.

Why the hell would she do this to me?

But I didn't move.

I followed them from a distance as they both turned and walked toward the dining area inside the hotel. A fancy little space with a pool, white tablecloths and a jazz trio playing in the corner.

They sat down at a corner table. Then he pulled out her chair for her. She smiled like a fucking princess as she sat.

But suddenly, she leaned across the table and...

My heart jumped.

And then she kissed him. Right on the lips. It was soft, slow, like they'd done it a hundred times before.

Jesus Christ!

That did it for me. That was the last straw. My blood went cold. Then hot. Then cold again.

Every part of me was burning.

My fingers were shaking with rage. My eyes blurred with tears I didn't even know I had. My throat locked up. I couldn't breathe. This was real.

This was fucking real.

My wife was cheating on me. On our anniversary. With another man. Smiling, kissing, acting like she didn't have a goddamn husband waiting at home with a surprise dinner and a necklace in a box and candles burning low.

I couldn't take it anymore.

I stormed forward, footsteps heavy and eyes locked on them like a missile. I didn't care about the people sitting around. I didn't care about the waiters walking past me. I didn't care if I got arrested. She was going to regret this.

"HEY! HEY!" I shouted, my voice cutting through the jazz music and the clinking glasses.

Recognizing my voice instantly, her back straightened like a rod of steel. Her lips froze mid-kiss and her back stopped moving across the table.

The man with her was tall, smug, had slicked back hair and his blazer looked like something that cost a fortune. He looked like one of those rich boys that thought they were untouchable.

My fists were tight and my arms were stiff, my whole body humming with rage. 

"Elsa," I growled, my voice shaking with emotion. "What the hell is this?!"

She got up from her seat fast, eyes wide and her lips parting like she wanted to speak, but no words came out of her lips.

"Neal-" she finally said, breathless. Her face had turned pale, like she'd seen a ghost.

I turned to the man. "What the fuck are you doing with my wife, huh?"

He gave me a slow look, before the corner of his lips lifted in a scoff, and then leaned back in his chair like this whole thing was some kind of joke. He didn't even flinch.

"Oh," he said, smiling lazily, "this is your husband?"

"Elisa," I snarled, pointing a finger at her but keeping my eyes on him. "You told me you were working, you fucking lied to me."

"I- I can explain," she said, shaking her head. Her eyes were filling up fast with tears now.

"No," I barked. "Don't you tell me to calm down. What do you want me to do, pat you on the back and say thank you?"

I turned to the man again. "Who the hell are you?"

He stood up, way too calm for someone who was about to get his teeth knocked in. "Jack," he said smoothly while brushing off his sleeve. "CEO of Whitmore holdings. Maybe you've heard of it... though I doubt someone like you reads Forbes."

I blinked at the audacity of the fool. Then I laughed. It was a dry, bitter sound that should've warned him, but he was either too bad or too proud at getting hints because he did not stop there. 

"Figures," Jack went on, rolling his eyes. "You're the type. Pickup truck. Flannel shirts. Lives off his wife's money and still thinks he's the man of the house."

"Elisa," I snapped, ignoring his bullshit. "This is who you're cheating with? This clown?"

"Stop it," she whispered, looking around at the pair of curious eyes we'd attracted. Some had their phones out, recording. But I didn't care. "Please, Neal, don't make a scene."

"Don't make a scene?" I yelled, my voice echoing across the dining room. People turned to look, folks stopped mid-air. Conversations were dying.

"I catch my wife- my damn wife- kissing another man in a fucking restaurant on our anniversary, and you want me to sit and smile about it."

"Neal," she cried, coming around the table and trying to grab my arm.

Then Jack chuckled and muttered under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear. "Rednecks like you always get emotional."