Spring [Completed]

EIGHTEEN

┌─────── ∘∘∘❁∘∘∘ ───────┐

HER

└─────── ∘∘∘❁∘∘∘ ───────┘

con•flic•ted
adjective

1. having or showing confused and mutually inconsistent feelings.

∘∘∘❁∘∘∘

Nightfall gives me confidence tonight as I sit inside my truck and stare up at the daunting apartment complex in front of me. The continuous whirring of the air blowing through my vents is the only sound heard as I try my hardest to gather my thoughts together. I tighten my grip on the steering wheel and bite my lower lip in contemplation.

I know two wrongs won't make a right, but I want him to feel wronged. I want Josh to feel the pain that he constantly puts me through when he cheats on me or lays his hands on me. And above all of that, I'm tired. I'm tired of being treated like the bad guy when I've done nothing but stand by this man for a decade. I'm tired of being mistreated, and I'm tired of being neglected by the one person who's supposed to love me unconditionally.

So, today as I sat in my big empty house, while my girls went out with their friends and my husband was out doing who knows what, I began to settle upon an idea. If I'm being punished like a cheater, shouldn't I at least get to reap the benefits of actually cheating? Which brings me here, desperate and confused as I sit in front of Ethan's apartment complex and debate going in.

I sigh, leaning my head back on the headrest, wincing as I hit the knot on my head, setting off a sequential series of throbbing and pain. Cursing under my breath, I pinch the bridge of my nose and soon my headache goes away.

Putting on my brave girl face, I pull down the sun visor and reapply my lipstick in the mirror. After toying with my unruly hair for a moment, I get out of my car and make my way to Ethan's apartment.

It's now or never, and I wore my good panties for this, so it better be worth it.

∘∘∘❁∘∘∘

As soon as I knock on the door, it dawns on me how real this situation is becoming. My heart races in my chest, and before I can obsess over my impulsivity, the front door swings open.

Ethan stands in the doorway with a smile and an alarmingly sparse amount of clothing. Blinking away my surprise, I try to look at anything but his revealing grey sleep pants.

"Hey, Imani. I was beginning to think you'd gotten lost," he jokes, but I have an increasingly hard time focusing on his words, as my eyes linger on his extremely bare chest.

I press my lips together and glance up at him as water drips from his hair and onto his tan skin. "Seems like you've lost your shirt."

I don't wait for him to respond before I enter the apartment and he closes the door behind me with a laugh.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was trying to squeeze a shower in real quick before you came. I was searching for a shirt when I heard you at the door..." His words trail off when I take a seat on the couch and stare up at him expectantly. He clears his throat. "I um, I'm gonna go get a shirt. I'll be right back."