Continued from “Jealous”
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had an ordinary weekend all to myself. It felt really good but weird. I felt like a fish out of water wanting to do everything and nothing all at once.
He’d warned me that cell reception was going to be crappy where his work retreat was taking place and that I shouldn’t worry if I didn’t hear from him.
If he only knew that I was the only one in the world looking forward to bad cellphone reception…
It didn’t really matter because I’d planned on pretending like his messages never came through. All I needed to do was delete them before he got back. He would definitely check my cell when he thought that I wasn’t looking.
I didn’t know what to do with my freedom but I definitely knew I had no interest in going out for a night on the town with the girls later. Just peacefully sitting in front of the television with a bottle of red wine, a pile of unread Architectural Digest magazines, a plate of hot homemade cheesy nachos with all the toppings he hated felt amazing.
But it also made me sad because he was still in my brain. He didn’t even have to be around to make me feel like shit.
The few times I’d gotten angry enough to face off with him and tell him that we were over, he would magically revert back to the sweet and caring man I’d fallen in love with. He’d always apologize, say sweet things and pull me right back into his nasty web of lies and insults. I recognized that it was a horrible cycle of rinse and repeat, except with each episode, the viciousness got just a little worse.
And now, I was actually afraid of what he’d do if I called it quits for good.
How crazy is that?
I took a swig of wine straight from the bottle and made a mental note to toss it directly into the hallway garbage chute. If he found the bottle in my trash, he’d be quick to accuse me of having someone over while he was gone which was not okay with him. And this wasn’t even his apartment.
The sight of his pants and jacket carelessly draped over the edge of my love seat annoyed me so I jumped up and tossed them onto the floor, out of sight. But my toss was too quick because when the jacket hit the floor, the contents of an inner pocket spilled out.
I stuffed everything back in – a pack of gum, some loose change, a receipt for cigarettes when he has supposedly quit and an almost empty pill bottle. When I read the label of the bottle, a sinking feeling settled into the pit of my stomach.
His name wasn’t on the prescription label.
I reached for my cell to google the medication but stopped myself. I only knew how to delete my search history from my laptop so I opened up a private search tab, typed in the name of the prescription and held my breath as I waited to find out what it was.
Continuation – “Stronger”.
©2016 Marquessa Matthews. All Rights Reserved.
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