In My Neighbor's Bed

Ch. 23: Going to War

It was like I was frozen in place. I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. What should I say? Should I say anything? Maybe if I pretended that I couldn't hear him, then I could put this all off until I formed some kind of a plan.

However, Phil took care of that for me.

"Sweetheart, are you in there?" He called from the other side of the door.

Never again did I think I would ever be comforted by the sound of Phil's voice, but I'll be damned if miracles don't happen. My heart started to slow to a normal rhythm and the feeling returned to my body.

By this point in our marriage, I knew every one of Phil's fake ass personalities. With nothing but the tone of his voice or the way he twitched an eyebrow, I could read him like a book. Which is why I knew in an instant exactly who this was:

The "Cassanova" Phil. Trying his best to romance me for one ungodly reason or another. But whatever his reason, he seemed to have no clue about what I did today. If he did, I doubt even he would have been able to disguise it this well.

That said, it didn't mean that I was completely in the clear either. It would be safest to play along with this little game of his for now. Better to have him being his bullshit version of "romantic" than pissed off and on high alert. I might need that leniency later.

"I'm here, Darling," I called sweetly. "Is everything okay? You're home early. I haven't even had the chance to start dinner yet."

"Don't worry about it. I brought some food home anyway," he explained. "We can reheat it for dinner later. Did you just get in?"

"A minute ago. I'll be out in a little while. Why don't you go relax for now?"

"Alright, I'll see you in a bit."

I strained to hear over the sound of the pattering water for his footsteps retreating. Luckily for me, he closed the bedroom door behind him on his way out. My body seemed to deflate as a huge sigh of relief exited from it. I slumped to the floor, covering my head with my hands.

God, that was close. Too close. If I hadn't heard his car door...

I shook my head as if trying to shake away all those negative "what ifs." No, I didn't need to worry about that. Because I did hear him.

That's right, everything was fine. I heard him, I made it into the bathroom in time, and nothing happened. There was no point in dwelling on the things that might have gone wrong when nothing actually went wrong. No point in getting stressed out over nothing.

I gave another small sigh and stood up, letting the water wash over me.

That's right, no point worrying about problems that didn't exist. Instead, I should be worrying about the problems that did exist. Like, for example, whatever had Phil playing the romantic all of a sudden.

I grimaced as I recalled the fake, cheesy pet name he called me. Sweetheart? What the hell was that about?

It didn't make any sense. Not after a fight like this morning, at least. Something like that would typically leave him in a bad mood for the rest of the day. If he came home at all, it would usually be long past midnight. And even on the rare occurrence that he did come home on time after a fight, he would always be very snappy and standoffish.

So, what in the world made him not only come home early but also feel as if he needed to romance me in some way? It was suspicious at best and worrying at worst. What was he buttering me up for? Was today the day he finally snapped and killed me like one of those true crime shows?