Don't leave Me

7:00pm

I'd been driving aimlessly for forty minutes, occasionally sipping my Dr Pepper or having a bit of my cookies. I started to think about things, mainly my wife and found myself becoming so consumed in my head, that I pulled over to avoid an accident.

My phone rung. I answered it.

It was silent for a few moments.

"Y/n?" My wife asked.

"I'm here," I stated plainly.

"Please come home, y/n. I'll do anything, I need you," she sobbed gently down the phone.

"I need some time, Wilhelmina,"

"How much time is 'some time',"

"I'm not sure,"

"I love you," she whispered.

"I know."

"Y/n?"

"Yes?"

"Please come home,"

"Goodbye Wilhelmina,"

"Y/n, I..." but I hung up.

I sat staring at the rainy outside for a few minutes in silence, before the anger hit me. I slammed my hands down on the steering wheel, making the horn go off and making me jump.

"Shit!" I whispered, catching my breath and calming down.

I had two plain options. A) go to a hotel for the night and then figure out my next move. Or B) go home and talk to Wilhelmina.

Both had their challenges, and neither of them sounded particularly fun, but didn't have any other choices.

"Fuck me Gaga," I sighed, turning my ignition on again and turning the car around.

Was this the right choice? Or would it prolong the pain? I wasn't sure. I only knew that for tonight, it would do.