We prepared the spaghetti dinner and Natasha's parents arrived around seven. "Jacob, so nice to see you again, with a haircut this time." Jesus Christ. "Mr. and Mrs.Miller, always a pleasure, seeing you two." Well, that was the first of many lies I would be telling tonight. "Now, Natasha tells us you're thinking of writing a novel. That seems pretty interesting Jacob." Mr.Miller said. "It's just something I do in my spare time. Nothing too serious." Let's hope this doesn't become a big deal. "Jacob, do you mind helping me with something in the kitchen?" Natasha asked. This can't be good.
"Honey, could you not be this way when my parents have dinner with us?" She said. "Oh come on, I'm being the perfect gentleman. What more do you want from me?!" Slammed my fist onto the counter and felt my hand basically explode, but I felt no pain. "Jacob, your hand." I looked down and saw my knuckles bleeding. "Wow, do you mind passing me a dishcloth?" She wet a dishcloth and wrapped it around my hand. "You need to calm down. You're hurting yourself, and it probably won't be long before you hurt me." She said. I took a deep sigh. "I need some air. I'll be back in a few." I kissed her forehead and headed to the den. "I'm sorry Mr. and Mrs.Miller, but I have to head out for a minute. Hopefully I'll be back in time to say goodnight." I haven't lied like that in a while.
I needed a drink to clear my head, but I also needed a drinking buddy. Drinks at Murphy's? I sent the message. I knew this was wrong, but tonight couldn't really get any worse.
