We grew up together. His family had nothing. I never once looked down on him. Whatever I had, I shared. When kids picked on him, I threw punches without a second thought. I got two ribs broken for it.
After graduation, when no one would hire him, I pulled strings to get him a shot at my company.
And my dear wife, Valerie—I treated her like a treasure. I pampered her until she never had to lift a finger. Whatever she wanted, I found a way to give it to her.
Never in a million years did I imagine that everything I'd poured into them—every ounce of loyalty, every sacrifice—would be repaid with this.
I yanked Valerie to her feet, picked up a cup of tea from the table, and threw it straight into her pretty face.
"Sober up yet? If you're going to embarrass yourself, do it at home."
Everyone was afraid I'd lose my temper and hit a woman, so they rushed over and grabbed hold of me.
"Nate, calm down."
"Maybe she just had too much to drink and was talking nonsense..."
Ha. They were overthinking it. I never hit women. I just wanted to stop her from humiliating me any further.
"You've all been drunk before. You know what people are really like when they're wasted, don't you?"