This week's Sunday Styles contained the most embarrassing, wince-inducing Modern Love yet in that column's history of personal betrayals and rampant oversharing. It's the story of Kevin, an impecunious freelancer, his wife Julie, and Frank, Julie's ex-husband. Kevin is incredibly insecure that Frank, who left Julie at the age of twenty-four because he was tired of being a full-time husband and father, wants his wife back, even though they are all old people now. Kevin compares himself to Frank in many regards and finds himself on the short end of every comparison. But how did Frank feel about the whole thing?

Hey Kevin,

I read that thing you wrote in the paper about my ex-wife and how I'm trying to steal her away from you. First, lemme start off by saying that I finally understand why you're so goddamned poor. You call that crap "writing"? No wonder you're bringing all those Coke cans to the recycling center to get your deposit back while I'm enjoying my fat Teamsters pension: That thing sucked. Oh, also? I'm gonna steal your wife.

Yeah, that's right, I said it: It's only a matter of time before Julie is mine again. I'm amazed that you've been able to figure out my secret plan, given that you've been stupid enough to spend "thousands of dollars attending writing conferences and hiring professional editors to help me perfect my manuscripts." What was it that tipped you off, Sherlock? The many gifts I shower her with? The way I whip your ass at badminton as if I were a man convinced that you had taken what was mine away from me? All the comments I make about how I'm going to steal her back? Well, however you figured it out, you're on to something: I'm going to steal your wife.

Oh, sure, it might not be easy, the wife-stealing. Julie is a great girl, as we both agree, and any man would be lucky to steal away someone who's been so loyal to a dirt-poor financial failure over the years. But guess what? I'm richer, stronger, and better looking than you. That should make it much easier for me to steal your wife. Which is what I'm gonna do.

So, yeah, I messed up when I split with Julie all those years ago. I was young, I didn't know what I wanted. But all that's changed now. I know what I want: to steal your wife. And I will focus on it with the laser-like intensity you have applied to your sorry-ass scribbling career. So I hope you made a couple grand on that piece on the paper, because you're gonna need it. I'm coming at you, buddy, and when I do, guess what's gonna happen? Here's a hint: First word is "steal." Middle word is "your." Third word? You're the writer, I'm sure you can fill it in. (It's "wife.")

Hoping this letter finds you well, I remain your friend,
Frank

P.S. Your wife is mine!

Mr. What-If Is Circling Around My Marriage [NYT]
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