Free My Husband's Girlfriend by Cydney Rax

woman.
    Anya stares at the woman so hard that the woman gives Anya an unsettled look, widening her eyes, then turns more toward me. She has a baby gripping her hip, a precious little girl who’s napping. Her face is pressed against her mother’s neck and her mom is stroking her back.
    “Ah, the little one must’ve had a long day, huh?” I ask.
    “Yep, we went to the mall and I let her rip and run at one of those Playland thingys. You know how kids can be.”
    Anya steps around and grabs my arm.
    My mouth grows rigid, like I can feel my bones protruding outside my face. When Anya squeezes again, I gently remove her claws from my elbow.
    “I guess I’ll see you at work tomorrow. Bye, Neil.”
    “Later,” I tell her. My face is heated up. I have such an awful distaste in my mouth, I want to spit on the floor, as if that would release me from feeling uptight.
    “Daddy, I’m ready to go home.”
    “Go sit in the car, Reese.” I point my remote-access transmitter at my black late-model Explorer. “Get in, I unlocked the door. We’ll be there in a sec.”
    Reese skips off toward the car. I turn to face Anya. Her eyes are blazing fire, which alters her appearance. I don’t recognize her anymore.
    “What was
that
?”
    “Anya, look…”
    “Who was she?”
    “It wasn’t who you think it was. Didn’t you notice she was holding a two-year-old girl?”
    “So that baby’s not yours?”
    I stare at Anya and resist the urge to smack her across her ridiculous mouth.
    “Okay, okay. Well, why didn’t you introduce us, Neil? I don’t get that part.”
    She’s acting so insecure I almost don’t want to be seen with her. Even though dinner was uneventful, was I imagining things or did Anya stare at every woman who came into the restaurant? Maybe she thought I was like an athlete who gets tickets to the game for both the wife and the girlfriend, and they end up sitting one row away from each other.
    “Neil, can’t you see you disrespected me big-time? That hurt.”
    “Anya, I didn’t disrespect you. You’re going to have to learn how to trust.”
    “Trust?”
    “Yes, trust,” I say, standing right in her face. “Even if I screw up every single day, if you wanna be with me, you’ll have to trust me. You’ll have to believe I’m not sticking it in every woman we pass by. I am
not
having an affair with every female on my job. Besides, we’re in this situation because of you, Anya, not me!”
    “Oh, hell no.” She backs away like I’ve slugged her in the face. She clutches her belly and bends over, but then rises real fast.
    “I should’ve known this wouldn’t work, Neil. If you wanna blame me, fine, but at least I can hold my head up in public.” Her voice cracks. “At least I’m
trying
to hold my head up.” Even though no one sees us, I still feel embarrassed, like everybody knows all the things I wish they didn’t know.
    I step up to Anya, drop my mail on the floor, and pull her against my chest. I close my eyes and pat her back until her anger subsides and her body stops trembling.
    “Anya, listen to me good.” I stare into her eyes. “I have a son and it means I’ll be interacting with the mother. That’s only natural. It doesn’t mean that I see her every day, except I will at work, and I can’t help that. But we are not out to make you miserable, my dear Anya. I am there because of the child. Think about the child.”
    She wipes her dripping nostrils and looks up at me. “Okay, cool, the child. But Neil, I find it strange you’ve never brought him to the house. Maybe you could do that sometime.”
    Anya removes herself from my arms and heads to the car.
    I retrieve my mail from the floor and toss the junk mail into a garbage can.
             
    Brax is squirming in some warm, sudsy bathwater. He gurgles while I take a soft cloth and wipe his forehead and soap up his arms. It feels peaceful and I enjoy looking at my son’s features: the nose he got from me, the large doe eyes