“What the fuck!” he shouts. “Woman, you are unbalanced!” He takes a few more steps toward me and I throw the shampoo bottle, but it doesn’t deter him. With every step he takes I throw one more item at him; still he won’t stop. Finally, he steps into the shower. I narrow my eyes at him and reach out to push him away but he catches my hand first and wraps it around Mac who throbs beneath my touch; and I’m a goner.
SUNDAY MORNING I ran out of the house before Brad even woke up. I called Lindsay and asked her if she wanted to go to the museum with me. Lindsay is a museum tramp. Me, I’d rather go shopping, but whatever. It was a convenient distraction from the horny bastard I left at home. The only real issue I’d had on Sunday was the never-ending questions about why I was avoiding Brad. I couldn’t really answer them without someone winning that stupid bet; of which Brad and I have vowed not to tell anybody. Let them sit and wonder.
Monday morning has come quickly, thank God. I just don’t know how much more time I can spend with Brad, alone, in this house. It seems the angrier I am with him, the more I want to have sex with him; and he sure is excellent at pissing me off.
I sip my coffee while I stand at the kitchen counter. I have my purse and brief case beside me, all ready to go. Brad isn’t due into the station until late morning, so when he walks downstairs butt naked, I’m a little surprised.
“Mornin’ pretty girl,” Brad mumbles. He slides up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. I lean my head back and place my coffee mug to his lips. He slips it carefully and smacks his lips. I smile up at him over my shoulder. We’ve been getting along since Sunday evening. Well, when we’re having sex we get along; so we’ve been having a lot of sex. As Brad says “we finally found a way to get along.” So now we’re all about “getting along.”
“Where’s your laptop?” Brad asks as he nuzzles my neck. I curl my face into him and giggle.
“It’s in my briefcase,” I laugh. Brad tenses behind me.
“Can you leave it here today?” he asks. I turn to face him. My smile falls when I see the look on his face. He’s nervous.
“I can’t,” I say, my brow furrowing. “Why?” I ask.
“I sort of broke mine last week,” he says. He’s acting strange. I figure maybe he wants to borrow it for a little self-loving before work. Before all the sex I’d be grossed out. Now, I’d leave it with him if I didn’t have it take it to court with me today. I set down my coffee mug and grab my purse and briefcase.
“Colleen!” he shouts. I turn to look at him.
“Yeah?” I ask.
“You can’t take the laptop with you today! You have to leave it here!” I step away from him and walk quickly towards the front door.
“You are acting very weird, pretty boy,” I laugh and rush out of the house without looking back.
The drive to the office is quick, there is very little traffic. It’s not the short commute that I enjoyed to and from my condo, but it’s not bad; and I have to admit that I kind of like being back in the old neighborhood. It reminds me of every good thing I’d forgotten in my time spent downtown. People know me in Southie, some of them even love me. I came up on these streets, left my mark, and for a number of reasons that I can’t remember right now, I ran away as fast as I could.
Once in the office, I avoid looking anyone in the eye. I don’t feel nearly as comfortable here as I used to and it seems as though I’m not as welcome as I used to be. If I think too long on it all, I might feel like I’m regressing into who I used to be. Used to. It seems that everything has changed as a result of my marrying Brad. Had I known this, I don’t know if I would have married him back in Vegas. Realizing I’m in love with him is just a strange byproduct of our marriage, though I have a hard time truly regretting it.
An hour after arriving in the office and my head is spinning. I still haven’t had time to turn my laptop on much less do a last minute review of my notes. Thomas is all smiles this morning and I suspect it’s because I’m the idiot who signed that stupid form regarding my conduct. I have half a mind to shove that conduct form up The Toad’s ass.
“You ready to go, Colleen?” Thomas pops his head into my office. I smile politely up at him and nod.
“Yes,” I say, “and you?” Thomas nods and gestures me to follow him. I grab my briefcase and we leave the building for the courthouse.
“And how is married life, Mrs. Patrick?” Thomas asks. I note the hint of faux interest in his voice. The mask he wears on his face is one of kindness, but I know better.