Like a self-appointed guardian of my marriage with Otis.
And this was the same man who'd been covering for him behind the scenes all along, helping him cheat again and again without getting caught.
A sharp cramp twisted through my abdomen, so fierce it stole the words right out of my mouth.
That was when Otis's phone rang.
It was Melvin's custom ringtone. Every time he called, it was either a company emergency or some business dinner. Otis would drop whatever he was doing and leave me behind.
This time was no different.
Melvin's voice came through, drunk and accusatory:
"You son of a gun, Otis! It's my wedding day. Bad enough you didn't bring your wife, but you left early too? Are you even my brother?"
"You've got ten minutes. If I don't see your face, we're done."
Otis gave an awkward agreement.
Then he turned to me, his expression grave.
"Relationships can't survive constant testing. Stop threatening me with divorce. I get tired too."
"Stay home tonight and think about what you've done. Don't wait up."
He was out the door before I could respond.
After it slammed shut, I dialed a number I hadn't called in years.
"Mom, I lost. Otis really isn't the right man for me. I'm willing to come home and take over the business. Come get me in seven days."
Not long after Otis left, Vivian sent me a friend request.
"Elaine, you lost in the end. Now that I'm Melvin's wife, let's see you try to keep me away from Otis."
"Can't swallow that bitter pill, can you, old hag? Then come catch us in the act."
She sent me the address of the wedding suite.
A blatant provocation.
My fingers tightened around the phone. I got up, drove to the address, and parked nearby.
The entire building blazed with light. Crimson drapes hung from every surface, and an enormous decorative monogram at the entrance gleamed under the spotlights.
Otis had already changed into a groomsman's suit and stood at the center of a crowd of buddies, the scene loud and lively.
Melvin raised his glass and clinked it against Otis's, teasing him:
"I sacrificed my own marriage for the sake of your love with Vivian. You'd better make it up to me!"
Otis's lips curved. "Relax. You'll be well rewarded."
Someone in the group spoke up:
"Otis, if you love Vivian that much, why not just come clean to your wife, divorce her, and marry Vivian?"
Before Otis could answer, Melvin beat him to it:
"A man of Otis's caliber, circling around one woman his whole life? Where's the fun in that? Why else did he bust his ass making money? Keep the wife at home, enjoy the women outside. Best of both worlds."
Otis drained his glass in one swallow, saying nothing to contradict him.
I sat in the car, nails digging so deep into my palms they nearly broke skin.
So that was why he'd worked so hard to make money. To chase more women.
Back then, I'd cut ties with my own mother to marry him. I'd squeezed into that cramped, run-down rental with him and shared a single cup of instant noodles for dinner.
He was under so much pressure at work that he'd grown gaunt. So I'd hide the only hot dog at the bottom of the noodle cup, then pretend I was full halfway through and push the rest toward him.
When he fished out that hot dog, his eyes went red.
He pulled me into his arms, voice thick with guilt:
"I'm sorry, Elaine. You've suffered so much being with me. I swear I'll make something of myself, and when I do, I'll make up for every hardship you've endured."
After that, he threw himself into work even harder.
Maybe back then, when he said he wanted to give me the best life possible, he'd meant it from the bottom of his heart.
But now, giving his heart to other women was just as real.
Melvin and the others shoved Otis into the wedding suite with a chorus of laughter, then had the good sense to leave.
I stared at the window, eyes locked on the two silhouettes shifting behind the curtain.
