His stomach drops and he feels trapped in the corner. Can I just slip out the front before they get that thing moving? Maybe I should just hop out this window.
Alex drops the strap when he sees Quinn in his living room. “I shoulda fuckin’ known.”
The mover immediately feels the tension and excuses himself to the bedroom where the another mover is working on a bed frame.
“Hi,” Quinn says, “Monica’s in the basement.”
“And you’re here not lifting a finger” He sees his phone go into his pocket and shakes his head. “You hired people to move? Afraid you’ll break a nail?” Alex gives a little self-satisfied laugh and walks towards the hallway to assess the rest of the moving action.
It’s Quinn’s chance to slip out and avoid the ugliness that’s already apparent. He starts down the front steps of the porch intending to give Monica a heads up that he’s here but only makes it to the second step before he feels spit land on the back of his head. He freezes.
That fuckin’ asshole didn’t just... Quinn turns very slow, hoping it’s from a bird, but knows he’s still under the eave. He looks like a volcano getting ready to erupt.
“What kind of man shares a beer with the husband of the woman he’s fucking and has the balls to accept relationship advice?” Alex takes a step closer, barely containing himself. “That night you broke up with Vanessa, you had the fucking nerve to talk about loving a woman. Did you think it was amusing to pretend to be my friend? To fuck my wife?” One of the movers inside the living room halts and redirects the other guy towards the backyard.
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