Sleeping With My Married Ex

Chapter 2

I don't mean to listen. Really, I don't. However, it's impossible not to. I have to wonder just how loud they are actually yelling at one another. I mean, these walls are thick, yet the sound of their voices float through as clear as if they were standing next to me. I'm sitting in my kitchen typing a paper for class and snacking on my breakfast, when I hear:

"All you fucking do is complain. You don't have shit to complain about. I do everything around here while you run around the city like a damned hoe."

It's Donovan's voice, and he is so loud I almost think he's talking to me. I'm about to respond, "But I-I didn't say anything," before I remember that he's not talking to me. In fact, he can't even see me and isn't aware that I can hear it all.

"What the hell you mean I'm running around like a hoe? Like you ain't out there hooking up with some bitch when you ain't here."
"I don't have time to hook up with some bitch. I wish I did. I would find one that's a lot more appreciative than you."
"Suck on it!"

Something smacks against the wall and falls away with a shattering sound. I shake my head and massage my temples, trying to block out their voices as they continue to argue.
"You make me sick," Tara screams so loud my eardrums pop.
"Then get the fuck out of my house," Donovan yells in return.

It's too early for this. For real. The sun is barely even up and they're already at each others throat. Totally exhausted. That's how I feel right now. I've spent the last four days working overtime, because two of the patients in my ward relapsed. After work, I either have to go to class or run some other bothersome errand. My sleep is constantly disturbed by tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum next door. And my mornings are just as bad. I'm a hair-trigger away from exploding and taking them out with me.

I button my jacket and grab my bag. I exit, lock the door, and lean my head against it. The cold surface is soothing to the headache I feel coming. Taking a few breaths, stealing my nerves, running on fumes, I walk to the elevator. A door slams and I see my neighbor walking towards the elevator.

Just what I need. A pissed off guy stuck on an elevator with me. He sees me and his steps falter briefly. The look of contempt is masked. The thing I remember most about Donovan is that he always wore his emotions on his face. We had that in common, so it made it easy for me to read him. But that expressionless mask is new, something he must have developed over the years. I'm not sure what to make out of it.

He is pulling on his jacket, and I can't help notice how define his arm muscles are. When we were younger, he had been skinny, hadn't really grown into his body yet. Now, it looks like he works out quite a bit. It's a good look for him. Something else he developed.

I face the elevator door again, subconsciously checking my reflection. It's a habit. No way I want to step out into the world with my hair all over or my shirt askew. That happened to me once before. I was in such a rush I failed to wash my face mask off before I left out. Not a good memory. In the gold painted doors I see him come to a stop behind me. "Hi," he says. His tone is the same monotone one, and I wonder why he even bothers to speak.

"Hello," I toss over my shoulder. The elevator dings, the doors open. We step on and I press the bottom for 'ground floor.' It takes some time to get down to ground level from my floor because of the garage that's situated between the two. I lean against the wall, running my 'list of things to do today' over in my head. My work load is significantly less today then it had been the rest of this week. I'm happy about that, especially since it's Friday. Not that I have any plans, but Friday's make me happy.

I feel a tug on the brim of my jacket. I look down and see Donovan pulling on it. "Why are you doing that?" I ask geninuely curious.

He smirks and shrugs, dropping his hand. That reminds me of something that happened between us before.

I was 15...or maybe 16...Anyway, I was at a school party with my friends. He and his brothers were there. When the party ended, we left with them and went to his cousin's house. At that time, I wasn't really interested in him. I still had a crush on Anthony. But since my friend was dating his brother, with my support, and my friends thought the two of us made a nice couple, yeah, right!, they shoved me into the kitchen where he was. Rolling my eyes, I turn away from him and look back into the other room where everyone else was sitting. Then suddenly, I felt him tug on my shirt. "Why are you doing that?" I asked. He smirked and shrugged.