PAYBACK IS A BITCH

Chapter three: His justification

I did some stress cleaning to avoid thinking about my impending talk with Billy and last night's incident.

Maybe a little isn't the right word because I cleaned the whole house.

I started with our bedroom, where, up until this morning, I had never minded the clutter, but it was irritating my eyes.

I tried to ignore it because no matter how much I wanted to keep it neat, Billy always found a way to mess it up, so I gave up long ago, but I couldn't abide by their disorderliness this morning.

Like a woman with purpose, I attacked the litter of dirty clothes left lying here and there, Mostly Billy's. His books littered his desk and any other part of the room they could find, even though there was a mini bookshelf.

By the time I was done, it was all clean and sparkly, but I was left feeling unsatisfied. Inside of me is this volcano pit of frustration, rumbling to get out. Taking it out in our bedroom didn't cut it; instead, it left me inching to do more.

I wanted to occupy myself with something to keep me from thinking.

I cleaned the house from top to bottom, every nook and cranny, and when I was done, it glowed like a newly purchased apartment.

When Billy walked in a few hours later bearing gifts, I had showered, dressed, and sat down at the dining table in the living room, reading a book and sipping a cup of tea.

The weather outside was hot and sunny, making the inside a little warm, so I wore a sleeveless, flay green dress with a buttoned-up neck and light makeup on my face.

No matter where I am, I always wear makeup, even in bed with Billy. I do my best to look perfect for him, including not letting myself keep my baby fat. I was blessed with good genes.

With all these, what did it get me?

My body stiffened when I sensed Billy, but I pretended not to notice his presence. I focused intently on the book I was reading, even though the words became alien language when Billy walked in.

"Hi"

His tone was hesitant, unsure if it was the proper greeting. Billy's uncertainty about himself was a novelty. He is so confident all the time that it bothers me with arrogance, though he never crosses that line, which is another thing that made me fall in love with him.

I ignored his greeting and flipped the book page in my hand, even though I had no idea what the last page was about.

The book in my hand is by one of my favourite authors, Suzanne Collins. It is titled Mocking Jay.

I have read the first two books in the series, and I must say they kept me up most of the night as I fought to find out what happened in the end.

She concocts a captivating tale that keeps you flipping through the pages until you reach the end.

From my upper lid, I saw Billy fidget on his feet with an unsure expression, his hands filled with apology gifts. His nervous ticks would have been hilarious if I wasn't so mad at him. Being that I am, I did my very best to ignore him.

I flipped another page, sipped my tea, and continued to play, engrossed in the book I was reading.

"What are you reading?"

There was idle curiosity in his voice. He didn't give a fuck what I was reading but was playing his hand at small talk instead of him to find the courage and talk about the elephant in the room.

I lifted my green eyes in his direction. "How to get away with murder," I answered casually with a deadpan expression.

His Adam's apple moved as he gulped repeatedly. A terrified, nervous look overtook his expression, and a tiny bead of sweat appeared on his forehead.