Hello everyone. It's MadeInThe90s here. I've decided to add a warning to this chapter, not because this chapter is too horrifying, but the upcoming one might be. This chapter contains the discovery of the affair by Eugene Lachance. Warning: Contains a Milo Pressman confessing his love for Dorothy over a telephone call. Please review everyone.

*Three Months Later*

Dorothy Lachance was just coming home after yet another day at the Junkyard. It was a hot summer day in Oregon. Her tired grey hair was frizzy from the moisture and her dress clung to her wrinkling skin as she drove.

A smile was plastered on her thin, old lips, the first in months. Her relationship with the Junkman had finally blossomed. She knew she loved him and that he loved her. There wasn't even a worry in her mind as she drove. Her husband Eugene could never possibly find out. He was too depressed with the loss of his son Denny, and he didn't pay any attention to her anymore, that was for sure.

Dorothy slammed her car door shut, keys in hand, as she got out of the white Chevrolet Belair.

She was so pleased today that she didn't pay any attention to the other car on the parking pad in front of hers. She began to whistle as she ascended the steps to the front door of her nice home.

Taking her keys, she turned the lock of the door and stepped inside, completely oblivious to the fact that Mr. Lachance was home; in fact, he was sitting in the living room, trying to look occupied with a newspaper.

Dorothy continued to whistle as she placed the purse she had been carrying down on the floor.

Nothing could possibly ruin her mood...

"Why hello Dorothy," Eugene spoke in a raspy, mean tone.

Mrs. Lachance spun around on her heels; eyes open in shock, heart beating at a million miles a minute.

She couldn't speak from all the horror.

Mr. Lachance lightly put down his newspaper, standing up as he did so.

"Why are you home so early?" Dorothy asked with obvious fright.

But she was completely ignored. Eugene asked her, "Where have you been? I asked you ten times last night, you need to clean the house." His tone was raised, clearly impatient with his wife.

This was why Dorothy was tired of Eugene. He had never done anything useful around the house. All he managed to do was mope around, mourning Denny. He tried to disguise it by telling Dorothy to run errands or do this or that.

Mrs. Lachance didn't reply. She simply stared at her husband.

"Dorothy, where were you?" Eugene asked again, this time with more impatience.

But a sudden ringing broke the silence. The phone vibrated and clanged loudly on the coffee table on which Eugene had placed his newspaper.

Dorothy had only one thought, worrying deeply that the caller was Milo.

She lunged for it, letting out a long and dramatic, "Nooooooooo!"

But it was too late already. With a quick swipe of the hand, Mr. Lachance had the phone from his wife's reach. He looked at her before placing the receiver to his ear and waiting for something from the other end of the line.

"'Ello sweetums," the voice chimed in a sing-song way.

Eugene's face turned red as a tomato. Yet it was nothing compared to the look on Dorothy's face.

There was a silence from the other end of the line for a moment, until Milo spoke again, "Ye need to come to me shack again soon.

I've missed ya already."

Eugene couldn't take anymore of what he was hearing. He slammed the receiver down and turned to face his wife. Never in all their years of marriage, had Dorothy ever seen someone so disgusted and spitting with anger. Eugene's facial expression went from tomato red, to blueberry blue, and back again.

"Dorothy, what the fuck has been going on here?!" He spat as loud as his lungs could muster. It shook the house.

Yet Dorothy knew that it wasn't too hard to figure out what was going on.

Before she had time to give him any sort of explanation though, Eugene took off running towards the entrance, ripping the door open, and disappearing.