He pushed his way past me, making a beeline to the couch. As soon as he plopped himself on the couch, I knew that something was up, and not something that would assist the situation at all. When I heard him snoring I was brought back into reality, I knew there was no moving him now, after carefully laying a blanket over his heaving body and leaving an aspirin with a glass of water on the coffee table, I made my way to the bedroom and with a heavy sigh I laid down. Lying down didn't help though; I lay there staring up at the ceiling, watching the fan spin round and round on an endless track, almost the same way my life was turning out to be, and endless round of cat and mouse, with my mother, my sister and then my husband? What did I do?
The morning after, I woke up early, something my body was programmed to do as a child. It was Saturday, washing day and boy did I know it. As I begrudgingly rolled out of bed, literally, I caught a fleeting glance of my tired appearance in the dressing table mirror luckily it was only Saturday. When I passed David in his fatigued state, I wondered, why did he choose to sleep on the couch?
His phone buzzing stopped me in my tracks, I stole a glance in his direction, and he seemed to still be passed out. The curiosity and my imagination was running wild in my head, and of course it got the better of me, as I made my way over to the kitchen bench, where his phone was buzzing uncontrollably, the thoughts of what it could be took over my common sense, maybe it was just work, hopefully his parents are alright, with any luck he didn't do something stupid last night. When I finally reached his phone I took a deep breath for self-assurance and picked it up cautiously. As I sat scrolling through endless messages from all kinds of women one sudden thought flashes through my mind... He doesn't love me.
I was halfway through reading a conversation between David and some lady named Sophia, who is allegedly married, with my face holding a strong grimace, when to my amazement and great surprise the phone was snatched out of my hand before I could even form coherent thoughts. I spun around on the breakfast bar stool to look at his face, and the fire I saw in his eyes would be enough for any woman in her right mind to turn and run for the hills, but I stood my ground and confronted him.
