Infidelity.

1. Late Night

Hours have gone by and it was now late—2 am to be exact. I sat up in the middle of our bed, contemplating the many reasons why I could possibly be in it alone.

The horrid reasons began to outweigh the pleasing ones. I told myself it was fine, he was at the studio.

Feeling nostalgic, I began to reminisce; memories of nights together with Balvin came flooding into my brain, they played out like movies. I felt my chest ache as I saw things I didn't want to see, thought of things I didn't want to be true.

I'm the type of woman that doesn't mind chasing after her man. After all, I am the woman that put all that work into him—just to build a relationship that I feel is now crumbling in our hands. What I do mind, is feeling like I am predisposed to being in competition with the other woman.

There should not even be another woman.

Balvin tells me he is infatuated with me, only. The same way I feel about him. I keep my word with him, and hope that he keeps his just as much. We have dedicated years of our lives to one another. For which I credit with the reason why I have become overzealous when it comes to him as a person, my feelings for him, and the life we have created together.

Based on the extent of my knowledge, I know he has not cheated on me, and I believe his words and actions. Something has been sitting in the pit of my stomach, making my simple thoughts become quandaries that afflict my what used-to-be-healthy sleeping schedule.

When Balvin is not next to me at this time, it feels as if half of my spirit has completely eradicated. As deep and harsh as that may sound, it's the only words I can put together to describe the pain I feel of being with out him.

I was already drowning in my thoughts, but it began to feel as if I were getting pulled down deeper by an anchor. I decided to get out of our bed and I went downstairs into our kitchen. I picked up Rico, our teacup puppy and I held him with one hand as I looked through the wine cooler. I decided to go with some pink barefoot moscato. I grabbed a wine glass out of the china cabinet and filled the cup by a third. I downed that amount in three gulps, pouring more at my leisure.

I put down the bottle and looked over at the door garage door. I heard keys jingling so I assumed it was Balvin. I felt as if there was an expectation that was forcing me to run up to him and caress him, but I disregarded it. I didn't look at him; instead I observed Rico as I held him in my hand.

I felt Balvin behind me, he didn't say anything but I felt his presence. When you become accustomed to having someone around, it becomes easier to sense their presence when they reappear after a period of time. I put Rico down and picked up the glass.

Even though I missed him, I didn't have much to say to him.

He began to massage my shoulders as I took a sip from my glass. I turned around and faced him. I looked up into his dark blue eyes as he spoke to me.

"Mami, why you up so late?" he sounded concerned.

I slightly rolled my eyes, "I can't sleep when your not here."

He smirked at me before he pulled me in and embraced me. "I'm sorry baby, but I'm here now. I missed you." He kissed my forehead.

I released a breath I had no idea I was holding. "I really missed you, and your warmth." I semi smiled.

He rubbed my stomach, soothing me as if i were a little girl. "I ain't mean to keep you up, but-"

"You got stuck at the studio. It's none new, it's becoming a habit actually. To be frank with you I don't fucking like it." I cut him off.