Standing Room Only

A World of Short Stories

Walt

As the Porsche pulled up beside me, I never would have guessed who was behind the wheel. I hoped I was able to hide my shock when Walt rolled the window down, but by the look on his face, I don’t think I was successful. 

“Were you expecting someone else?” Walt asked, staring at me as if he was bored. I almost wanted him to start drumming his fingers on his shiny new steering wheel. 

“Well, as you were in jail until just recently… No, I wasn’t expecting you to show up at my house in a brand-new Porsche.” I crossed my arms over my chest and hoped my tone of voice made it obvious I was not thrilled to see him. He had thrown me under the bus and still thought it was my fault he went to jail. I wasn’t the one who had robbed the bank in the first place, but apparently he had made off with more money than I thought. 

I had once been in love with Walt – the complete head-over-heels type of love – until the day came that I wasn’t. I remember everything clearly and it was the first time I was finally able to put myself first. And it was the beginning of the end for Walt and his so-called life. His family begged me to go back to him. To give him another chance. I did not and he spiraled into oblivion and ended up robbing a bank at the end of a week-long bender. 

Now he was here. Again. And I knew what I had to do. I just hoped I could eventually forgive myself for what I was about to do. It was Walt’s turn to be thrown under the bus. Literally. 



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