everything is about sex.
If I didn’t know any better I’d think you just thought that not everything was about sex .
I did just say that. (in my mind)
So what changed? A month ago everything was about sex.
Fuck.
Glad I could help.
I really need to stop arguing with myself. My mind is like a bad case of good cop bad cop. My libido being the bad cop. Or the naughty cop. I should invest in a sexy policewoman outfit.
With a sigh I check my phone, four texts, and twenty three missed calls. All from him and one from Summer. I know he’s probably called her to see if I’ll tell her where I am.
I read my messages:
James: Please baby, I’m sorry. We’ve still got a full day. Don’t be pissed.
James: I’m sorry! We’ll do whatever you want. I’ll take tomorrow off as well.
James: Please reply! Or answer your phone.
Summer: Hey chick, what are you up to? Fancy a coffee?
Maya: Hey Summer. I’m not stupid. We’ll go for coffee tomorrow! Xx
Summer: I told him you’d know it was him asking but he told me to try. Xx
Maya: He’s an ass.
Summer: What man isn’t?
Maya: True dat! Much love bitch xx
Summer: See you tomorrow titface! Xx
James: Answer your effing phone!
James: Fine… be a fucking child! Christ Maya I fucked up, I’m sorry.
Just for that comment alone I decide to answer the phone. “Who the hell are you calling a child?”
“Just tell me where you are so I can come meet you,” the pleading tone in his voice is laced with a mixture of desperation and annoyance. Good. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry, I’m busy. I don’t remember where I am.”
“Stop acting like such a child. Christ… why do I bother?” he groans.
I let out a humorless laugh, “Yes, you’re right… why do you bother?”
“Maya I didn’t mean…”
“No, I know exactly what you meant. Even when I try it’s still not good enough for your high and mighty ass. Why don’t you just divorce me and get it over with. Rather than waste another four years ‘bothering’ with me!” I hang up again. I don’t know why his words affected me so much, he says them all the time. Maybe because I’m actually making an effort. It may be a crappy one but I’m trying. And you don’t see me complaining constantly like he does. Well, not out loud anyway.
I wait another two hours before I head back home sweaty and feeling calm. I grab another caramel latte on my way back and power walk to my elevator. My energy levels are high so I take the stairs.
When I enter my apartment I head straight to the living room. James is crouched over on the couch, his head in his hands. His hair looks tousled and sexy, he’s wearing nothing but beige shorts and a baby blue shirt, buttons open showing his golden chest of muscular glory. I push away my erotic thoughts and flop into the armchair. He looks up as I put my latte down and gives me a weak smile. I notice the concern in his eyes.
“I’m sorry for saying that I don’t know why I bother. I do know why I bother,” he mumbles and lets out a sigh. “I’m a dick. Will you forgive me?”
I raise my eyebrows and laugh. “Everything about that apology was wrong. You refer to me like I’m a chore that you bother to do. It’s ridiculous.”
“You know what I mean.”
“We aren’t working.” I watch as his face falls even more. My heart twinges a little. I ignore it, eager to bring my point across. I’m still deciding what that point is. “Clearly, all we do is argue. It’s ridiculous.”
“We are working. Don’t say that!” I see the panic evident in his eyes. “Don’t walk away from me now.”
I rest back into the seat and take a deep breath. “I want a divorce.”
Chapter Six
“I’m not
If I didn’t know any better I’d think you just thought that not everything was about sex .
I did just say that. (in my mind)
So what changed? A month ago everything was about sex.
Fuck.
Glad I could help.
I really need to stop arguing with myself. My mind is like a bad case of good cop bad cop. My libido being the bad cop. Or the naughty cop. I should invest in a sexy policewoman outfit.
With a sigh I check my phone, four texts, and twenty three missed calls. All from him and one from Summer. I know he’s probably called her to see if I’ll tell her where I am.
I read my messages:
James: Please baby, I’m sorry. We’ve still got a full day. Don’t be pissed.
James: I’m sorry! We’ll do whatever you want. I’ll take tomorrow off as well.
James: Please reply! Or answer your phone.
Summer: Hey chick, what are you up to? Fancy a coffee?
Maya: Hey Summer. I’m not stupid. We’ll go for coffee tomorrow! Xx
Summer: I told him you’d know it was him asking but he told me to try. Xx
Maya: He’s an ass.
Summer: What man isn’t?
Maya: True dat! Much love bitch xx
Summer: See you tomorrow titface! Xx
James: Answer your effing phone!
James: Fine… be a fucking child! Christ Maya I fucked up, I’m sorry.
Just for that comment alone I decide to answer the phone. “Who the hell are you calling a child?”
“Just tell me where you are so I can come meet you,” the pleading tone in his voice is laced with a mixture of desperation and annoyance. Good. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry, I’m busy. I don’t remember where I am.”
“Stop acting like such a child. Christ… why do I bother?” he groans.
I let out a humorless laugh, “Yes, you’re right… why do you bother?”
“Maya I didn’t mean…”
“No, I know exactly what you meant. Even when I try it’s still not good enough for your high and mighty ass. Why don’t you just divorce me and get it over with. Rather than waste another four years ‘bothering’ with me!” I hang up again. I don’t know why his words affected me so much, he says them all the time. Maybe because I’m actually making an effort. It may be a crappy one but I’m trying. And you don’t see me complaining constantly like he does. Well, not out loud anyway.
I wait another two hours before I head back home sweaty and feeling calm. I grab another caramel latte on my way back and power walk to my elevator. My energy levels are high so I take the stairs.
When I enter my apartment I head straight to the living room. James is crouched over on the couch, his head in his hands. His hair looks tousled and sexy, he’s wearing nothing but beige shorts and a baby blue shirt, buttons open showing his golden chest of muscular glory. I push away my erotic thoughts and flop into the armchair. He looks up as I put my latte down and gives me a weak smile. I notice the concern in his eyes.
“I’m sorry for saying that I don’t know why I bother. I do know why I bother,” he mumbles and lets out a sigh. “I’m a dick. Will you forgive me?”
I raise my eyebrows and laugh. “Everything about that apology was wrong. You refer to me like I’m a chore that you bother to do. It’s ridiculous.”
“You know what I mean.”
“We aren’t working.” I watch as his face falls even more. My heart twinges a little. I ignore it, eager to bring my point across. I’m still deciding what that point is. “Clearly, all we do is argue. It’s ridiculous.”
“We are working. Don’t say that!” I see the panic evident in his eyes. “Don’t walk away from me now.”
I rest back into the seat and take a deep breath. “I want a divorce.”
Chapter Six
“I’m not
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