In due time (Completed)

Prologue

My stomach twisted.

You know that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach moments before something bad happens? Like your body's very own way of waving a gigantic red flag telling you to get the hell out of dodge?

You should always, ALWAYS, listen to that feeling.

And I should learn to practice what i preach.

I tapped on his apartment door. Standing there for over 5 minutes, my brain was telling me to walk away but I couldn't. He sounded really bad on the phone. answering with a definitive slur in his speech .

Was he sick?

I knew he wasn't, the garbled vocabulary that I received on the phone was a sound I knew all too well growing up, but I couldn't help the sliver of hope crawling its way up my spine. I began to yell for him to open the door then only did I get a response

The stench of alcohol reeked in the air. I had the sudden urge to throw up, the daggers in my gut not making the situation any better. I've never seen him in this condition before in the past 6 months that we've been together. Bloodshot eyes and a flushed face. I knew he drank- which person didn't at my age- but he's never been this...PLASTERED

"You came," he swayed a little and held onto the door for support. He could barely keep his eyes open.

Red flag number one...

"I was worried," I was still taken aback by his condition that brought back so many memories of my past. Memories that I'd hoped to forget but sadly never will.

"Come inside," he side stepped and allowed me into his apartment.

One would swear that a frat house had passed through here. Red plastic cups, glass beer bottles and cigarette buds decorated the floors. "What the hell happened here?" I asked.

He shied away at first, scratching at the back of his neck sheepishly before answering me, "the guys came over and we had a couple of drinks. It's the weekend babe, no big deal."

"A couple? This is a lot more than a couple," I stated, more so to myself as I paraded around in their mess. Kicking around the trash, I found a thin piece of flimsy fabric but I didn't dare pick it up. Who knows where that's been? Anger and hurt brewed in me as I bitterly stated, "I guess the guys wear thongs now."

Red flag number two...

He shook his head and then let out a low laugh, "it's not like that babe," he moved towards me and held me around my waist, "the guys were having a little fun but I told them that I wouldn't join. I knew I'd have my fun later. C'mon baby, its me. You know I'd never do anything like what you're probably thinking."

I wanted to believe him, I really did. He hasn't done anything to make me question his loyalty in the time we've been together. He was patient with me and understood why I couldn't give myself to him just yet. It was one of the reasons why I was with him in the first place. He's always respected my boundaries and needs, but there always came a time when I had to raise the question to myself -what about his needs? He is a guy after all and if the divorce rate of the country has taught me anything its that if a guy cannot get the physical satisfaction they seek from their partners, they often look for it elsewhere. Perhaps that's what he did and honestly, who'd blame him.

Reflexively, I pushed him away from me a good distance. I needed a little air, the apartment seeming a little congested at the moment, so I made my way to the window in the kitchen, that over looked the city.