The Morning After

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My eyes opened just enough to see that it was light outside. Shit. Did he spend the night? I tilted my head. My heart sank into my stomach. He wasn’t there. He must have left. What else did I expect? He left to go be with his wife of course, she must’ve been worried sick. Why did I care about this nameless, faceless woman? I sat up and took my phone off the bedside table. I cared because she didn’t do anything wrong.

There was no new messages. He could’ve at least send a text message. I put the phone back and fell back into bed. Why does love have to be so complicated? Why did he have to go and get married? Enough moping around. I got out of bed and walked to the bathroom and got into the steamy shower. It was my time to think, to have imaginary arguments that would never happen in real life. I heard the front door open. Some nerve housekeeping has to just walk in.

It became quiet. Too quiet. The thought crossed my mind that perhaps this wasn’t housekeeping, perhaps this was one of those weird guys you see in movies, sneaking into hotel rooms and killing girls. I got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around me. Confidence. I need to walk out there with confidence, that will scare him off.

I came to a complete halt. It was him. In my bed. Fully clothed but still, in my bed.

“Back so soon” I asked sarcastically.

He raised one eyebrow and placed the newspaper down beside him.

“I got you some breakfast, you’re welcome” he snapped back.

I smiled. I wanted to continue this argument just so we could make up but something felt wrong. His wife. Why am I worried about his damn wife? It’s not like we didn’t make love last night. He already cheated. Still. She didn’t deserve this. Or maybe she did, maybe this was karma’s way of getting her back for something she’d done in past.

“Penny for your thoughts” he asked, rudely interrupting my scheming.

“Breakfast first” I smiled and hopped on the bed next to him.


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