I hate days that start with an argument and today had been one of those days.
Mike and I have been together for more years then I care to admit to and have lived together for the past four. When we first moved in together we made love every morning, evening before tea and then at bedtime. Then it was two out of the three. Then just at bedtime. Now, I'm a play station widow who gets two minutes at weekends if I'm lucky.
So, we did what most couples do in this situation. We argued about it. The argument didn't start that way but that's how it ended. You see Mike lost his mobile. On his mobile are some pictures of me. Some for public consumption and some not. It was the ones that weren't for the public I was concerned about.
It's one thing letting your partner take photos of you naked for his enjoyment when your not there. But, quite another for them to appear on the Internet or worse still passed around down the local pub.
Mike had promised faithfully that they were safe and he wouldn't share them. I trusted him. He then went out on a lad's night out and lost his phone. So this morning while nursing the hangover from hell he had told me that the phone was missing.
He couldn't understand why I didn't take his hangover into consideration when I told him what I thought. The argument went from there. Into the "You take me for granted." territory and then onto the "you don't love me as much as you used to." Conversation stopper. Then onto the show stopping "You never want to make love to me anymore."
It was at this point I stormed out of the house in tears and drove off like a maniac. At lunchtime I got a voicemail
"Don't worry about the phone. I've blocked it. I'm going into town later to get a temporary replacement while the insurance sort mine out. I'll text you with the number when I have it."
No "Love you." Or "I'm sorry." Just that he was getting a replacement until his new one came through. I didn't call him back. I'd just tell him what I thought of him when I got home tonight.
I went to lunch with my friends Donna and Mandy. They both agreed all men are pigs but defended my pig. They pointed out that he was quite a good one and that there were worse out there. When I told them about the pictures they laughed and asked if his phone was pin protected. I told them I didn't know but as I thought about it during the afternoon I realised it was. I had tried to sneek a look in it the other day and got nowhere. I felt better. Maybe, I wouldn't make his life hell after all. Just mildly uncomfortable.
As I drove home that evening I realised I had not heard from Mike. Sitting in the evening traffic jam I was feeling nostalgic. I was remembering the good old days. I was remembering his touch, his eyes, his mouth, his tongue. What my man could do with his tongue is enough to make a grown woman scream for mercy.
I was feeling aroused just by the memory. My thoughts carrying me off to another more private place. Then all of a sudden I was brought back into the traffic jam by my phone beeping.
"Hi beautiful"
Speak of the devil. I smiled. If he was saying this then this must mean that this morning was forgotten and he was trying to make it up to me. I thought for a moment before typing in my reply.
"Well, hello stranger. Nice to see you finally decided to talk to me."
A middle of the road reply. Not conceding anything but not rejecting his overture either. He had a bit of work to do before I was prepared to forgive.
I waited to see if he would reply. Then my phone beeped.
"Why? Did you think that I wouldn't?"
The cheek of it!! He was trying to play me at my own game. He was supposed to be creeping back into my good books. I'll show him.
"I wasn't sure."
I shot back. Daring him to take the bait. When his reply did come in it knocked me for six. I wasn't expecting it at all.
"So, are you wearing a skirt or trousers?"
What on earth was going on!! It made no sense. Where had that come from? Did he not see me this morning? I know he was hung over but please. What was he playing at? He knew I was wearing a skirt. It's his favourite one because I look so hot in it (or so he says). It has never failed to get him going. Until this morning that is.
"Why? Can't you remember?" I teased
"Indulge me." Came back the reply
"You should be so lucky!" I thought. Then I began to wonder. When we first got together and didn't live in the same house we used to have late night text chats that got very steamy. Maybe I wasn't the only one feeling nostalgic. So I relented.
"A skirt."
I waited for his reply. Expecting something cheeky. Something about me just being in a skirt and nothing else and this causing traffic issues. So when I did open his reply I was confused.
"Turn left down Rose Street"
Not what I was expecting. Why did he want me to go down there? The park was down there but not much else. So I replied.
"Why?"
"Trust me!" came back in reply
Now I was getting suspicious. What was going on? I was approaching the turning running out of time and still none the wiser.
"You sure?"
"Yes."
Mike can be a man of many words when he wants to be and the lack of detail and his full answer was a perfect example. There was only one way I was getting to the bottom of this. So I turned left.
"Ok, I'm heading down Rose Street. What now. This had better be good."
I texted. Maybe he had a surprise lined up for me. He could be quite romantic when he tried.
"Turn into Saunders car park. Park at the far end facing the park."
Ok, so a romantic walk? A picnic? My mid was a whirl of confusion trying to work it out. I parked up and killed the engine.
"Why?" I asked hoping for an explanation
"Do as I say. No more questions. Don't you trust me?"
The cheek. I was there wasn't I? I had gone into the car park as he asked. I had followed his instructions. Now, I deserved to know why.
However, in the spirit of reconciliation I bit my tongue and just replied.
"Of course I do. I'm here. Where are you?"
"I'm nearby. I can see you."
So now he was being enigmatic. Not good. He was up to something. I started to look around. I couldn't see him but that didn't mean anything. All of a sudden I felt nervous.
