The Man Next Door.

12.

"You look new." Analisa says.

Her voice like an alarm, jolting me from the quiet self-preserve mood I buried myself in all morning. "Hm?" I gaze up to her reflection in the mirror, she stands aside my chair with her manicured fingers gripping her hips while she peers down to my eyes suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

"You look new." she shrugs apathetically with her bottom lip pouting. "Fresh. Glowing. Regenerated." she listed as she leaned down, puckering her lips to add another layer of nude gloss, when the lids of her eyes parted wildly in a dawning realization.

"Wait." She gasps sharply, freezing like a mannequin, the strawberry scent of her cherry gloss fans down at my head by the blow of her breath. "Did Philip and you ..."

I knew what she implied by the eager look in her eyes, they were widened to saucers but treaded lightly on finishing her words, in case of any wondering figures on the outside of the door.

"Not yet." I shrugged.

"Hmm, really?" she cocks her head, crooking a brow.

My lips pout, and I shrug again. "Yep, he hasn't even brought it up."

"Then why are you smiling?"

And with that, I felt the Cheshire smile that burns my cheeks, and gazed at my reflection in the mirror. I sat here for more than thirty minutes and never noticed the glow in my eyes, or the red of my nose as I blushed away. Holy hell. Has this been glued onto my face all morning?

I realized I left her question hanging on a thread, but she never turned away. I clear a grovel in my throat forcing the smile to recede. The pain it left behind lingers on the corners of my temple and I massage my mandible. "I - just -uh-..."

I had no valid words, and the words I spewed were incoherent, only what my brain could conjure in the short seconds of time while the spotlight was beaming above me.

Analisa's light gaze now transcends into a deeper curiosity, her brows crease as I fumbled my speech. She was no fool, even if I could think of a farce in this moment, it wasn't quick enough to believe. And by the swirl in her eyes, it was just best to not dig a deeper grave.

"Speak already." she squeals.

"I got myself a toy."

"A toy, what for?"

A good night sleep or I'm excited for Italy, literally anything could have sufficed, but instead I chose to say toy. To my religious best friend, God -I mean gosh darnet. I swallow thickly, choking on more of my lies.

"A toy? Destiny-" she groans. "You know you can't have a toy while married, it is a s-"

"Sin. I know Ana, I know. But -" I curl my lips and bit down on the inner flesh of my lips to keep the words at bay. But she heard me and paused her lip gloss midway to look back at me.

Holy hell, there I go again. Opening a can of worms, digging my own grave, adding fire to the burn, all sorts of ways to describe the predicament I just walked right into. Do I say it, that I crave to be hammered by another man? what kind of dumb question is that, of course not.

"But -" she emphasized, a ghost of an annoyance in her expression.

"Uh-I-"

A soft knock on the door is what saves me from spilling a truth I'd never recover from.

"Destiny, Analisa, were ready for you."

"Be right out, Thank you." I speak to the figure on the other side.

"I don't know what is going on sweety, I am happy you're happy but please if things aren't working out just speak on them and pray."

It was hard to take her religious talk seriously while she was dressed in a vulgar piece. Cladded around her hips, the string of her thong disappears in between her ass and the rubies that sparkle on her nipples shimmer yet again as she angles her body under the light bulb. Ready to pose for the camera.