After an exhausting day of work, you swing the back door open and smile at the sight of your car in the parking lot. You jog to it and unlock it, settling yourself in the driver's seat and starting the car. Just as you put your seatbelt on, your phone buzzes, indicating a phone call. Out of curiosity, you look at the caller ID. Surprisingly, you see your ex-boyfriend's name, 'Michael,' flashing obnoxiously on the screen.
Hesitantly, you pick your phone up and accept the call. Running a hand through your hair, you nervously bring the phone to your ear. "M- Michael?" is your greeting, which, might you say, isn't the smartest way to start a conversation.
"Oh, you remember me. Thought, by now, you've already deleted my number," he remarks, the chipper tone of his voice exposing his cockiness.
"Fuck off," you groan. Shakily, you balance the phone between your shoulder and your ear as you back out of the driveway and turn left, thus starting your usual route home. "What do you want?"
"I want you," Michael replies, immediately causing you to tense up. You don't respond, propelling Michael to continue talking. "Why don't you bring your cute, little ass over to my house, and I'll show you just what you're missing out on."
"Yeah, well, I don't want you. You see, Michael, there's a reason why I broke up with you," you retaliate, hoping your answer will shift the conversation in the direction you feel more comfortable with.
"And what's that reason, sweetheart?" he questions. Though you know he's only asking you that question to irritate you; he's definitely doing a good job at that.
"Because you're a horny asshole who fucks anything that breathes," you spat. Suddenly, the memory of the day you caught Michael cheating on you replayed in your mind. It was about a month or two ago, and you two were just a day shy of your two year anniversary as a couple. You came from work, but you didn't hear the television or the shower running. No, you heard moans instead - loud moans.
Curiosity getting the best of you, you knocked on your bedroom door before entering. Nothing would have ever prepared you for what you had witnessed that day. When you opened the door, the woman's legs were wrapped around his neck.
As soon as you caught him, you dumped him and cried for a solid week straight. You were extremely upset, of course, but you don't tolerate anyone who seeks the love of another person while they already have someone willing to give them that same exact love.
"You know how sorry I am, babe," he says, the tone of his voice softening at the sound of your anger. "Please... just come over, and we can talk."
"What's there to talk about, Michael? You cheated on me after two fucking years of dating!" you yell. The anger coursing through you distracted you from driving, and you almost miss the turn you're supposed to take. "I'm over you."
"Are you really over me?" Michael asks, the intolerable arrogance creeping back into his voice just as quickly as it went away.
"Yes... Yes, I am, Michael." You sigh, the conversation faltering to a dead silence. Deciding to take initiative, you clear your throat and speak up, "I just... I want to know why you cheated on me."
"Well, come over, and I'll tell you," he presses.
"Fine... I- I'll be there soon. Bye, Michael," you mumble, forcing your voice to stay flat and free of emotion. Instead of going into your neighborhood, you turn around, speeding off to head towards his house.
Finally, you arrive. A nervous swirl of uncertainty settles in the pit of your stomach, warning you just how bad of an idea this is. As you knock on his front door, you cross your arms over your stomach to hopefully subdue it's warning signs.
