subject for another time. A subject I’m not proud of now I’m married to James. Maybe I’ll tell you later.
She leaves an hour later, we chat about Jacob, her most recent sexcapade’s and antics, more about married life. We put on a bet on whether or not I’ll screw Jacob. I won’t, I definitely won’t do that to James. No matter how badly I want to taste Jacob Stone. Nom, nom.
As soon as she leaves I quickly get changed into a white dress with an empire waist that reaches mid-thigh, and pair it with some strappy white sandals and a little turquoise clutch purse and matching beads that hang loosely round my neck. I braid my hair and twist it up before lathering on a little sunblock.
The bikini I’m wearing beneath is also white and leaves little to the imagination. I pack a bag full of towels and spare clothes and sun block and place it by the door. Now where is that husband of mine?
I wait, and I wait, and I wait. It’s noon, hottest peak of the day today and to say I’m getting annoyed with waiting is an understatement. Yet I wait. And wait. My phone rings, I dart into the room and grab it from my clutch. It’s Summer, I ignore the call getting more agitated by the minute and I have a bad habit of snapping at people I care about when I’m agitated. As my dad always taught me, if you can’t say anything nice don’t say anything at all. For once I’m exercising this certain piece of advice.
Do I call him? Yes I bloody do call him. It’s one in the afternoon. He should’ve been an hour.
“Mr. Freeman’s office Carlson speaking.”
“Carlson, could you put my husband on the phone please,” I snap. See what I mean. Snappy when angry.
“Certainly. Just a sec,” the phone makes a beeping noise and rings twice.
James’ frantic, panicked voice blasts through the speaker, “Fuck, Maya I’m so sorry I completely…”
“Save it you asshole! Today was your idea, dammit, I could be out with Marie now but guess where I am. Sat at home on the couch covered in sticky sunblock checking my watch every two fucking minutes. Go fuck yourself!” and my thumb goes slam on the screen effectively cutting him off. I think that went well don’t you?
My phone starts to ring, I ignore it. Then again, and again, and again, sigh. A text comes through.
James: I’m sorry baby. I’m on my way. Please wait for me.
Maya: I’m going out… without you. Asshole. Remind me not to bother trying anymore.
And out I go, I grab my clutch and head into the city on foot, the day is too nice to spend driving plus the traffic is ridiculous. First stop I hit Costa coffee and get an iced caramel latte to go before hitting the park. There’s some kind of jazz band playing. They’re actually pretty decent and there are a lot of people crowding round on picnic blankets. I grin and skip over to a kiosk to get an ice cream cone.
I lay in the shade of a tree, ice cream cone in one hand, my kindle in the other. I’m currently reading a book about immortals, some amazing guy called William who’s been dreaming of one girl for years has finally found her. My favorite supernatural trilogy of all time.
I lay on my belly, swinging my legs in the air, occasionally watching a group of kids play soccer as their families watch on. They look so happy. My thoughts drift back to my husband. He’s been trying to get me to go places with him for months and when I finally do he forgets. How does somebody forget something so soon?
What am I supposed to do with that? How do married couples react to being let down? Do they storm off in a huff or talk it out or what? This is so frustrating. The one person in your life who isn’t supposed to let you down and they do.
Just fuck him and forget. It’s not like you wanted to spend time with him anyway .
Shut up libido. Not
She leaves an hour later, we chat about Jacob, her most recent sexcapade’s and antics, more about married life. We put on a bet on whether or not I’ll screw Jacob. I won’t, I definitely won’t do that to James. No matter how badly I want to taste Jacob Stone. Nom, nom.
As soon as she leaves I quickly get changed into a white dress with an empire waist that reaches mid-thigh, and pair it with some strappy white sandals and a little turquoise clutch purse and matching beads that hang loosely round my neck. I braid my hair and twist it up before lathering on a little sunblock.
The bikini I’m wearing beneath is also white and leaves little to the imagination. I pack a bag full of towels and spare clothes and sun block and place it by the door. Now where is that husband of mine?
I wait, and I wait, and I wait. It’s noon, hottest peak of the day today and to say I’m getting annoyed with waiting is an understatement. Yet I wait. And wait. My phone rings, I dart into the room and grab it from my clutch. It’s Summer, I ignore the call getting more agitated by the minute and I have a bad habit of snapping at people I care about when I’m agitated. As my dad always taught me, if you can’t say anything nice don’t say anything at all. For once I’m exercising this certain piece of advice.
Do I call him? Yes I bloody do call him. It’s one in the afternoon. He should’ve been an hour.
“Mr. Freeman’s office Carlson speaking.”
“Carlson, could you put my husband on the phone please,” I snap. See what I mean. Snappy when angry.
“Certainly. Just a sec,” the phone makes a beeping noise and rings twice.
James’ frantic, panicked voice blasts through the speaker, “Fuck, Maya I’m so sorry I completely…”
“Save it you asshole! Today was your idea, dammit, I could be out with Marie now but guess where I am. Sat at home on the couch covered in sticky sunblock checking my watch every two fucking minutes. Go fuck yourself!” and my thumb goes slam on the screen effectively cutting him off. I think that went well don’t you?
My phone starts to ring, I ignore it. Then again, and again, and again, sigh. A text comes through.
James: I’m sorry baby. I’m on my way. Please wait for me.
Maya: I’m going out… without you. Asshole. Remind me not to bother trying anymore.
And out I go, I grab my clutch and head into the city on foot, the day is too nice to spend driving plus the traffic is ridiculous. First stop I hit Costa coffee and get an iced caramel latte to go before hitting the park. There’s some kind of jazz band playing. They’re actually pretty decent and there are a lot of people crowding round on picnic blankets. I grin and skip over to a kiosk to get an ice cream cone.
I lay in the shade of a tree, ice cream cone in one hand, my kindle in the other. I’m currently reading a book about immortals, some amazing guy called William who’s been dreaming of one girl for years has finally found her. My favorite supernatural trilogy of all time.
I lay on my belly, swinging my legs in the air, occasionally watching a group of kids play soccer as their families watch on. They look so happy. My thoughts drift back to my husband. He’s been trying to get me to go places with him for months and when I finally do he forgets. How does somebody forget something so soon?
What am I supposed to do with that? How do married couples react to being let down? Do they storm off in a huff or talk it out or what? This is so frustrating. The one person in your life who isn’t supposed to let you down and they do.
Just fuck him and forget. It’s not like you wanted to spend time with him anyway .
Shut up libido. Not
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