This was written for Friday Fictioneers. Thank you, Rochelle!
Wrong Side of the Tracks
“Truth will tell,” Brandt’s mother said after the wedding.
She tried to buy me off, send Brandt away, but nothing worked because Brandt and I were soulmates. Our love was the truest of loves.
Twenty-two years later, I’m sipping a gin-and-it, while watching Brandt slink into the shadows with his current mistress and assistant, a giggly buxom brunette. He’s forgotten his place, his children, his parents, this Christmas cocktail party he demanded, for some “face time.” He forgot me years ago.
“I’m rarely wrong, you know.” His mother sidles next to me, her narrowed eyes following their progress. “I apologize.”