Losing My Man

How does one's day go from bad to worse? I'll tell you. It starts with words like... "I think we should take a break...together."

I could've almost laughed when I heard William utter those words. He made it sound as though he was presenting me a lovingly wrapped gift from Santa and not a vicious undercut from Mohammed Ali himself.

'Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.'

I most definitely felt him sting my heart with his indifferent approach wrapped in superficial kindness when he said those words.

After I had told my husband I had gotten fired from the job I had begged him to let me get, he then suggested that we should take a break. Apparently, 'Sugar' the dog had made him realise that we want different things in life.

I never realised a mutt could bring on such life-changing thoughts.

Either way, by the evening I had managed to successfully pack my boxes from both my office and my house.

William had offered to put me up in a hotel for the week, however my ego, pride and self-respect prevented me from accepting such handouts. Instead, I found myself standing defeatedly at the door of a B&B.

It wasn't the most luxurious, nor was it quiet. But at least I had purchased it with money that was mine.

***

[Knock knock knock]

It was way too early for this... No human should be permitted to disturb another at 7 am on a Saturday morning.

[Knock knock...BANG BANG BANG]

I groaned audibly as I was forced to submerge from my peaceful slumber to open the gateway into earthly hell.

"What do you want," I muttered, barely even opening my eyes.

I was instantly bombarded with the stench of morning breath and coffee doused in body odour. I wanted to heave.

"Oh, hello there, love." I heard.

"Mhmm?" I groaned again. I didn't even part my lips, for fear of the insults that would flow fasted than the red sea out of my mouth.

"I thought this was my room, see."

Slowly opening my eyes I looked at the fool stood before me. The average height, brown-haired, green-eyed, middle-aged, caucasian fool.

"You thought this was your room?" I reiterated incredulously.

"Yeah, I tend to get kind of lost in places like these..."

"I'm sorry!" I exclaimed, still stunned by his statement, "You thought this was your room?!"

"Erm... I believe I already stated that..."

"Then why the hell did you knock. No one knocks on their own hotel room door, they whip out the bloody key and jump into the fricking room!"

"Ahem." He cleared his throat, visually uncomfortable.

"What? Now you're embarrassed because I called you out on your stupidity?!"

"No, it's not that..."

I waited for him to explain himself with patience I didn't even know I still had in stock.

"... I just had a parallel thought pop into my head when you spoke about the key thing."

I paused, retracted the conversation and groaned for the third time in disgust when I finally interpreted the innuendo he had formatted into our irritating conversation.

"Please, just get away from my door and stay away from me," I said to him.

It was 7 am in the morning and I was now beyond agitated. I had planned to order in pizza, watch a film and eat tubs of ice cream all day, but instead, I found myself arguing with a foolish man at my temporary doorstep.

"I would've given you my number and taken you to dinner as an apology, but I get the feeling you wouldn't accept my invitation."

"I wouldn't," I replied curtly.

The idiot then had the audacity to look deflated, as though he had expected another answer from me.

"Oh." He gasped.

I rolled my eyes at his entitled behaviour and slammed the door firmly in his stupid face.

"I need more ice cream." I groaned.