The Playboy

I ran up the stairs of her apartment, once again the lift was broken, and finally made it to the third floor. With the key I had I unlocked the door, and took a deep breath, touching the box I had in my front pocket.
This was it.
I walked into her apartment and noticed clothes thrown around leading down the hall to her closed bedroom sound. I walked slowly to it, and once there I heard groans.
This wasn’t happening.
But it was, I opened the door to find her in bed with another guy, having sex. I cleared my throat and the two sprung a part, annoyance in the guy’s eyes, fear and shock in her’s.
“Cal, it’s not what it looks like,” she said, tears forming in her green eyes, and I had to close my eyes from the pain.
“Is this him? Your boyfriend?” the guy in bed asked, and she shot him a glare, pushing him away.
“How long?” I asked quietly.
She let out a sob, “I-i-I just missed you Cal, he doesn’t mean anything,” she begged me to understand as I shook my head; this wasn’t happening, it couldn’t.
“How long?” I repeated, but louder this time.
“Months, I’m sorry, Cal, please,” she begged as I shook my head, it was too much.
“We’re done, I-i can’t do this,” I said rushing out of her apartment, throwing her key somewhere along the way.
I ran to my Jeep, ignoring the sounds of her sobs, and the heart of my breaking. This was supposed to be a happy day, it was supposed to be perfect.
It was the worst day ever.