The side of Murphy's face was hurting. She opened her eyes and realized that it was getting dark. Her legs were cramped and her cheek hurt where it had been pressed against the raised edge of the sofa cushion. Using the sofa for support, she pushed herself up from the floor, stretched and made out the numbers 8:36 on the VCR clock.
The door to the bedroom was open and she could see that Robert had not yet made an appearance. With a bursting bladder, Murphy walked stiff-legged into the bedroom shedding her top on the way. Making it into the bathroom she undid the snaps and zipper and swiveling her hips she got the tight pants down over her thighs just as her ass hit the toilet seat and her stream of pee hit the water.
Pulling her pants off, she finished undressing while sitting on the toilet. She must have sat there for five or so minutes with her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. Her thoughts were filled with hate and despair as she relived the last few hours of what she considered to be the ultimate betrayal.
Wiping herself with a pad of paper she repeated her newfound mantra, "That son-of-a-bitch of a little dicked bastard of a whoremongering asshole! I'll get him for this!"
A hot shower and a cool rinse after she washed her hair had Murphy Browne feeling alive again. Wearing her cotton robe she sat on her balcony eating a slice of cold meat and cheese sans bread and drinking red wine out of the bottle. She studied her bare feet resting on the railing and wondered if anyone could see her nakedness under the robe she was wearing. Deciding that she was too far up and away from anyone to worry about that she took another swallow of wine and sat up to scan the beach.
Night was falling and she was not going to just sit on her balcony and feel sorry for herself. Uncomfortable as it was, her nap had left her feeling wide-awake and ready to do something. She considered calling Bill but decided not to get involved while she was feeling betrayed.
Throwing her robe on the bed, she chose a little cotton sundress, donned her bra and panties and slipped the dress down over her head. Spotting her low-heeled sandals on the living room floor she zipped up the back of her dress while keeping her balance as she slipped her feet into her shoes. Heading towards the door to the hall, Murphy stopped and applied her lipstick in the hall mirror by the door. Grabbing a sweater out of the closet as she passed by, she swung it over her shoulders and tied the arms together in front of her.
It was almost 9 o'clock and the sun had set. Bill Hughes sat on his balcony overlooking the Atlantic Ocean watching the rolling waves and listening to the soothing sounds of the surf. The beach was nearly empty except for some couples walking hand in hand skirting the edge of the water lapping on the sand. The plastic chair was starting to feel hard under his butt and the feeling prompted him to decide to take a walk. He found his mocs where he had kicked them under the bed and rode the elevator down to the parking deck. There were a few kids playing in the pool as he passed through and out onto the boardwalk across the sand dune and onto the soft sand of the beach.
Once out on the beach he turned and looked back towards the condo building and counting the floors he found his balcony. Murphy's condo above his was in darkness and he again wondered if her husband had come back from the strip club.
"They may already have left and are on their way back to Virginia," he thought. "On second thought she may have killed him and left his dead body in the condo," he laughed and turned back towards the ocean.
After only a few steps in the sand he realized that the mocs were a bad idea. He considered taking them back up to the condo or even leaving them next to a fence post but decided against both ideas. Instead he tied them together with their rawhide laces and looped them over his shoulder.
Halfway between the soft sand and the high water mark, someone was sitting on an aluminum beach chair out in front of the dune. He glanced down as he passed by and than looked again. It was hard to tell in the near darkness but it looked like Murphy sitting there with a sweater draped over her shoulders and the arms tied together in front of her.
"Murphy?" he asked.
The woman's shoulders jerked in surprise and she turned towards him.
"Oh! It's you!" she said with relief. "I thought it was Robert."
"Is he back?" Bill asked.
"No, not yet. I just woke up. I fell asleep on the sofa." Murphy didn't bother to tell him that she had cried herself to sleep and awoke still sitting on the floor with her face mashed against the cushion. "I got tired of sitting up there waiting for him. The longer I sat the madder I got. I actually took a taxi back down to the strip club but my truck was gone. I was going to take it and leave his sorry ass there without it. I don't know where he is and I'm not sure I really even care. For all I know he's in some motel fucking some whore!"
Bill was stunned by her language and said nothing in reply.
Standing up, she faced him. Her eyes looked like she had been crying but it was hard to tell in the dim light.
"I'm going for a walk would you like to join me," Bill asked.
