The lawyer's wife

His wife asked to leave him, but not because of another man.

"I no longer want to be a housewife," she says, "Times are different, so maybe we'll see each other again." So she moved into a bachelor pad on the edge of town.

The whole thing was a source of chagrin for him. She'd left him like that, and she'd done it with aplomb. To his dismay, he even got down on his knees and begged her, but she wouldn't budge. No matter how much he begged, she did not have the slightest intention to stay. He felt like the peel of a banana that she had eaten and thrown into the garbage.

As a result, his love turned to hate, real hate. One can guess whether he wanted revenge? There is simply no answer to this question because he is simply not a confident, assertive person who lives an active life. She left him in large part because of that.

He daydreamed every day but simply could not figure out if he should take a little revenge, and his insomnia worsened in the midst of his daydreams of what he wanted.

As a result, he tossed and turned at night, often waking up with nightmares.

At three o'clock this morning, he awoke once again with a start, his throat feeling cold and a gun at his throat. This time it was no longer a dream." Stand up and turn on the light." A man's voice.

His legs went weak, but he was lifted up by the pistol against his chin.

"Get in," the man pushed him into the sitting room, "I want a good look." The man twisted on the electric light and pushed him into the sofa.

He was too frightened to breathe. In the light, he saw a silencer on the barrel of the pistol, which meant that it could not be a toy pistol.

"Poor thing." The man sneered, "You could fill a swimming pool with your sweat, and he knew it himself, the cold sweat on his body had beaten through his robe.

"Who are you?" He could barely recognize his own voice." A man who has waited a long time."

It was then that he saw the visitor clearly. Tall, pale, with yellowish eyes, dark hair, and a long beard trimmed at a slant, like two sharp swords.

From the visitor's tone, he felt a strong sense of hatred. But why?

"There must be a misunderstanding." He said, his voice raised an octave." We don't even know each other!"

"Misunderstanding?" The visitor laughed and untied a nylon rope from his waist and tied it tightly around his dry wrists. The rope was embedded deep in his flesh. If you want to scream, do as you please!"

He knew it would be useless even if he screamed through his throat. He lived in the suburbs and had no neighbors within a half-mile radius.

The visitor tied his ankles again.

"Come on, do it fast and give me a hard time." He suddenly came up with a line often heard in movies.

"It's not that cheap." He said, "I'll let you die a quick death, but never too quick."

His limbs were tied and he was defenseless. In fact, even if he wasn't tied up, he wouldn't have been able to resist at all. It was not just that the men had guns in their hands, but that he was hesitant and cowardly by nature.

He could not even defeat his wife.

The visitor sat down on the sofa, facing him, pistol on the armrest, and stretched his legs." It's a nice couch, you live quite comfortably. You live in the suburbs, one zero six" two four Maple Street, Claire, I found you in the phone book. Please rest assured that no one saw me come in, and I promise no one will see me leave. I want to see you in pain now, and I want you to be as bad as I am. I have waited five years for this day, five years ......"

"I don't understand a word you're saying, it must be a misunderstanding." He said.

"Less of this." The visitor ran his hand over Cheng Liang's pistol, "Where do you think I've spent these five years."

He suddenly didn't feel very nervous. He had already surrendered, what else could he do?

Everything is decided by the other side. The big deal was a bullet in the temple, and he might die before he could even suffer. It was painful enough for him to live.

"You and I don't know each other, how do I know where you've been for the past five years?"

"The hell I believe you. I've been locked up for the last five years. Just up the river in that prison. Five years ago, I was charged with armed robbery." The visitor said through clenched teeth.

"I still can't understand you." He said.

The visitor laughed in anger." When I was suffering through my time in that cold, stinking prison cell, the only thing that kept me alive was that there was a good woman waiting for me outside. Then came a letter from Mary saying that a shrewd and cunning lawyer had stepped in and won the divorce case for her. I felt my head bursting like an old car tire. But, at the same time, I found another reason to live - to see your head explode with my own eyes."

"So you found Claire in the phone book?"

"Yes, Mr. Lawyer. If you're going to put three inches in front of me, I'd advise you to save your breath. It was you who helped Mary divorce me, and she remarried only to die in a car accident with her second husband. What do you think the point of my living is?"

The visitor's hand stopped fondling the pistol and grabbed the handle." How is it, you say, that we are strangers?"

"But I lost my wife, too." He said.

"That's a shame." The visitor said sarcastically. At the same time, the pistol was slowly raised.

"I want revenge as much as you do." He said, "She laughed at me, trampled me, brought me to my knees, spat at me, and finally left me."

"I'm glad you know what it's like to be abandoned, too." The visitor's pistol was pointed right between his eyes.

"Her name is Claire!"

The pistol slowly dropped and pointed at his chest, and the visitor looked puzzled.

"It's simple." He said, "Claire is the name of a woman. She's always riding over me, and we're not a marriage - it's master and slave. I'm not even free to connect to the phone, so it's her name in the phone book-Claire, the lawyer." The pistol drops completely.

"It was my wife who filed the divorce case for your wife." He said, "I've really never heard of you. My name is Crete, and I write novels for a living. If you don't believe me, you can see my ID."

His limbs were tied and he could hardly move. He had to give the man Claire's current address - pistol to the head, how could he resist.

The man left quickly, like a panther in the jungle. He wished he had such athletic hands. Because then he could have wriggled through the hallway faster, into the kitchen, looking for something to cut the nylon rope. It had been more than thirty minutes since the man had left, right?

Suddenly, he remembered something - he probably should have twisted to the telephone first, although tied up badly, but his bound hands could take the phone off and find the operator to inform Claire.

However, as he twisted toward the telephone, he wondered again if maybe it would be faster to go to the kitchen and cut the rope first, then call. He didn't know what the best thing to do would be, and he had to think about it. He really wished he was a man of his own accord.

Claire had left him for that very reason.

The drive to Claire's apartment was about forty minutes.