âOh, my aching head â The sunlight was streaming through the bedroom window violating my eyelids. I reached out to grab the clock and held it in front of my face. I was having a heck of a time trying to focus. It must have been the one, or two, or three long island ice teas too many last night. I hadnât done anything like that since college. My mouth tasted like, well, youâve all had that feeling. I needed a serious drink of water and some coffee, lots of coffee. The good news was that I could smell it brewing downstairs. I could also smell something else cooking, bacon. âI wonder what Iâve done to deserve this.â I thought to myself.
I gradually sat up and looked around the room. There on the floor was my suit, one of my more expensive suits. I didnât even remember taking it off last night. That would explain why it was all balled up by the door. I looked over by my wife Dianeâs side of the bed. There was a pair of empty wine glasses on her nightstand. What the hell were they there for? Then I started to get that âah shit, I really fucked something upâ feeling. We had both been real busy lately. Me with work, her with a new job and the kids. There hadnât been much time for us. We had talked about sending the kids off to her parents for the weekend. I sure hope that wasnât supposed to be this weekend.
I dragged myself up and went to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror and realized I looked as bad as I felt. I suppose I should go down stairs and see how bad the damage is. I passed the kids bedrooms. No kids. Beds werenât even slept in. It must have been this weekend. I continued down the stairs and now I could hear the bacon cooking. I came around the corner to the kitchen and spied her across the room. Her back was to me. Damn, I was a lucky guy. Diane, my wife of 15 years was about 5â7ââ. She had long legs and a fantastic ass. She still turned my head from across a crowd even after all these years. Her blond hair was tied in a ponytail and her left hand was resting on her hip as she stirred the bacon with her right. A pan of scrambled eggs sat off to the side.
I slid a chair out from the kitchen table and sat down.
âGood morningâ I said.
âMorningâ she replied without turning around.
âHow about some coffee?â I asked.
âYou know where the cups are.â She said in a cold monotone voice.
This is going to be a long weekend I thought to myself.
âWe got the contract at work.â I told her.
âThatâs nice,â she answered.
The contract was the reason Iâd been drinking last night. The proposals came in and we won the second biggest award in the companies history. The guys came in and decided we should all go down to one of the bars near work and celebrate. I figured one drink couldnât hurt. Then we ordered some wings, then another round, and another.
âIâm sorry,â I sort of pleaded.
âIts okâ she said, âIt actually worked out quite nicelyâ
âDid you sleep alright?â I asked trying to make small talk.
âI didnât get much sleep last nightâ she said.
What the hell did she mean by all that. I got up and poured my coffee while I admired Dianeâs rear view. She was dressed in my boxer shorts, which she had rolled at the waist and had tied one of my white t-shirts in a knot at her navel showing just a hint of skin. It was terribly sexy but something wasnât quite right. I just couldnât put my finger on it. Then it sort of dawned on me.
âWhen did I get those boxers?â I asked. I didnât remember any purple boxers. She took the last of the bacon out of the pan and turned around. There was a gold omega symbol in the front corner of the boxers.
âThey arenât yours,â she said as she looked at me with a slightly irritated look. Then she turned back around. It felt like Iâd been punched in the gut. Not mine, then who in the hell did they belong to. My mouth was suddenly very dry again. I looked around the room not exactly sure what I was looking for. Then I heard someone coming up the basement stairs from the guest room. I turned and there stood Jason from work. Yes, Jason from the cube next to me, Jason, 6 feet of brash arrogance. Jason, tall, built, and blacker than the richest coffee. My heart was racing as the adrenaline surged through my body. What was he doing here? Then I started to remember more of last night. The slurred speech, the âyou canât drive homeâ. Then Jason offering to drive me home. I thought he had just dropped me off at the door.