3
Mark came home drunk, I was already packed.
He didn’t turn on the lights, and therefore didn’t
see my luggage in the corner. He came up
behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist.
<
I pushed him off, but he wouldn’t stop. He
pulled me to him again.
His hand moved roughly to my waist, his other
hand pulled up my nightgown.
I remembered the desert from dinner.
Maria was too good for her own good.
Sometimes she wouldn’t even take credit for
the things she did, and would attribute them to
Mark.
I punched him in the chest and kicked him. He
stopped, whispering in my ear, his breath hot,
“Sarah, why aren’t you asking about marriage?”
I looked at him, “When are we going to get
married?”
He pulled back, his eyes darting, “We’ll see.
Let’s just let things happen.”
12:09
<
“Oh yeah, I also gave your award to that intern. She said that her mom is really sick. I felt bad.
You know, with the holidays coming up, I
thought that it would make her mom feel
better.”
“You’re not mad, right?”
I tried to see if he was lying. He wasn’t.
“What if I was?” I said quietly.
He frowned. “It’s just an award. You can have it
next year. Why are you so cold?”
I smiled, “Okay. Do whatever you want. I’m
happy as long as you are.”
His face looked conflicted, but he didn’t say
anything. He just went to the bathroom.
