I’m participating in Blog-A-Rhythm’s second edition of BAR-A-THON, the fortnight-long blogging marathon for bloggers everywhere!
The theme is two-fold: anything to do with the number 7 (SEVEN) or a specific PROMPT based on a famous book’s title.
For today’s post, I’ve chosen the prompt, “The Fault in Our Stares” and “seven”.
“The Fault In Our Stares”
I’m sitting at a café in the airport waiting for my flight out of town when I notice Howard perched at one of the island seats at the other end of the café.
The woman he was likely cheating with long before everything jumped off and shit hit the fan.
It’s obvious that Howard is whisking her away on a romantic weekend, just like we used to do when we were fresh and newly in love. It had been on out first romantic getaway that he had professed his eternal and burning love for me.
Funny how quickly those flames had burned out…
When Howard glances my way, I see that he’s startled to see me. Of course, he doesn’t smile and neither do I.
There is absolutely nothing to smile about.
Instead, Howard smirks, leans in and whispers bitter somethings into his new girl’s ear. She immediately spins around and begins the “I’m-the-new-girlfriend-don’t-look-at-MY-man” staring game which I decide not to play. I can only imagine what he has told her about me but then again, I truly don’t care. The daggers in her eyes say it all…
He’s mine now…I’ve got your prize…
I resist the temptation to roll my eyes and give her my “You can have him” stare.
But there is a major fault in our stares that she will soon learn on her own.
I see the quiet laughter etched all over Howard’s ugly face that is reflecting his thoughts:
Bitch, see how quickly I replaced you?
I refuse to feed the beast by showing emotions that I no longer have for him or his new situation.
But my eyes can’t resist responding to his.
Go fuck yourself. She can have you…
They both promptly give me their backs and put on a public display of excessively artificial affection just for my benefit.
Whatever…Knock yourselves out.
Howard and new girl can’t keep their hands off of each other so I assume that the sex is still decent. But in time, the joke will be on her when he can no longer get it up and it will be her fault. And she’ll be completely surprised when his hands will be all over her in a totally different way.
The sting of his first slap to “knock the stupid out of her” will show her what a wonderful “prize” she has won…that is, right after he blames her making him do it.
I realize that I’m running late, trash the rest of my coffee, grab my carry-on and leave the café, passing just inches away from them.
I can’t help but smile when I notice that the scar I gave him on his forehead hasn’t healed properly. Howard deserves to be permanently reminded of me and the seven fucked up months I actually stayed with him. I wonder what lie he told her to explain it away.
Back in the main terminal, I sprint to my gate, remembering that the last time I had run that fast was out of Howard’s house after he tried to school me for the first and last time.
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