"Welcome home," I smiled as I saw the familiar tall figure coming in through the front door. "How's work?" I asked whilst closing the door behind my husband, Heath.
"..." There was no response from him as he kicked out of his black work shoes, swiftly laid on the sofa. A small laugh escaped from my mouth. He basically belly flopped onto the sofa as if it was a swimming pool.
It wasn't unexpected that he acts like this. It's a bit annoying yet funny it's just a part of him. This thing started years ago. Now it's a daily occurrence that has just become the norm. He must've been tired from working overtime. He normally gets home at 5. However, looking at my watch it's almost 7. The food that I've made him has gone cold.
I bend down to be face to face at the same level as my husband as he laid there. Eyes closed.
"You should eat first then rest," gently stroking back his soft brown hair from his face. "You shouldn't go to sleep with an empty stomach."
There was still no response from him. Getting a nearby blanket from the corner or the living room. I heard him murmuring something. "O ya," turning my head back, I grabbed a blanket and wrapped him around it. Preventing him from getting a cold. I then heard him mutter again. "Love ya," I heard.
I stopped. I couldn't help it but paint a ginormous smile on my face as I heard the two heartwarming words. He's normally shy about saying these stuff, however I don't mind it. Most of the time when he does say it. It's normally when he's unconscious. I think that's the most beautiful part of it. His display of love originates from the fact he unknowingly says it. How he is at his most vulnerable moment and yet he says it as if it's a habit. As if it's something that he says every second, everyday minute, every hour, everyday, every week, every year. Forever. It's so beautiful.
I can feel the burns from my cheeks from smiling too hard. I couldn't stop it and my heart couldn't help itself but to keep beating fluttering when the word of, "I love ya,"keeps on reminiscing and causing me to blush again and again.
"Love you too." I quietly said. Placing a soft kiss on his head. Breathing in his thick cologne and his scent. My eyes glued on his face, memorizing every detail and features. Everything. I quietly got up and gently closed the living room door. I didn't want to part with him so quickly. This past couple of years he's getting busier and busier. However, he needs to be sleeping in a quite environment.
Going into the kitchen I stared at all the cold dishes that I made. I was hoping that we could eat together. But it seems like he had a busy work schedule.
Refusing to waste the food. I microwaved it, chewing on the remicrowaved pasta. I grimaced. It tasted so foul as if I ate some dog shit. It seems like luck was on my side when Heather didn't eat the food. Even so, I continued to eat. With the leftovers it'll save it for tomorrow. But what would he eat when wakes up? He's bound to get hungry when he doesn't eat anything for dinner. He should wake up in a couple of hours, right? Maybe I'll make him a midnight snack.
****
'Ring Ring Ring Ring' *SLAMS*
The loud sound immediately woke me up feeling irritated. There was a sharp intense pain on the palm of my hand. I looked down at the red puddle forming at my palm and dropping down onto the black blanket. I rushed to the bathroom and cleaned and banged my wound. It just happens. When you get too angry at the stupid clock interrupting your quiet environment you're bound to be pissed at it. I mean…at least it does its job correctly by immediately waking me up. But it also makes me deal with the consequences of suspending my peace, aka accidentally breaking my 27th alarm clock. They sure have to deal with a lot of abuse. At least you're at peace number 27th alarm clock. Thank you for joining me with my journey with your wonderful services, Mr Clock.
A sudden realisation hit me I was so tired that I had forgotten about my husband. I wanted to get a quick nap but it seems like I've fallen asleep. Luckily I always set my alarm clock hours before Heath wakes up.
I went to to the living room to check on him. But what I saw is just an empty sofa.
In the kitchen? Nope
Bathroom? Empty
Office? Bare
Garden? Nah
Conclusion? Not in the house anymore. What do I do? Phone him.
There wasn't a single response as I dialed and dialled his phone thousands and thousands of times. I was becoming increasingly worried. What if he'd gotten hurt. Something must've happened to him. I mean it's almost 7am. It's so unusual to see him be out this morning.
His location is off. Why? I couldn't help it but think he's unfaithful. Resurfacing the memories of the past couple of months. I immediately thought thought about his recent actions and how he became someone completely different. He acts as if he had some really fucked stuff going on.
Recently he'd been coming home really late due to working busy schedule. He'd spent less and less time eating with me, affectionate and just quiet. As if I'm not here I'm not with him not someone he can confide to.
No, no this doesn't mean he's cheating! It must be paranoia. Maybe I need some more rest. I should call the company that Heath works at. But I shouldn't bother them. They may not believe me that I'm Heath's wife besides it may cause trouble for Heath.
But it's an important mission I need to find out. This relationship is the most important thing I ever have in my life.
Pressing the number of Heath's team manager phone number. I was immediately faced with a voicemail.
"Our team will be on a week business trip. Please leave a message if-" beep. I hung up.
I immediately slowly sat down on the kitchen floor as the heavy pressure has been lifted up. I sign in relief as I closed my eyes taking deep breaths to calm my heart down.
It's okay I've just forgotten that he has a business trip. It's okay I won't be alone I won't be abandoned. I will be happy, I will still have a good life. The reassuring thoughts immediately helped me cool me down as I just got myself a glass of cold water.
I went to the bathroom to clean my face. Cooling my face with a wet clothwash. I looked up and stared at my reflection.
I look absolutely fucking miserable.
I look as if I was mourning for a beloved loved one as my eyesbags looks as if it got inflated. It was as if my eyebag were some sort of balloon. The dark eyebag and pale sick grey skin made me look like I'm a ghoul wanting to suck someone's soul.
In conclusion I look absolutely horrendous.
All of this, because I was extremely paranoid about Heath cheating on me.
Well, that was really fucking pathetic of me.
I went back to the kitchen to make myself some black coffee I just don't feel like eating after that whole ordeal.
I was worried for nothing.
I sat down on the chair daydreaming.
'I need to go to work soon.' I thought as I was staring mindlessly whilst drinking my coffee. 'The coffee is more bitter than usua-'
CRASH!
The sound of my favourite kitchen mug shattered as I frozed.
All the muscles in my arm disappeared as my heart was beating and beating. My pulse was echoing throughout my head as all I could hear is the terror of my heartbeat. I was desperately waiting waiting for my eyes to focus as my panicked tears refused to disappear.
I dropped down to my knees looking at the laundry basket on the kitchen floor. Holding on to a shirt.
Never Never in my 3 years as Heath's wife have I ever wore fucking lipstick. So what the fuck is this!?
I scrunched up Heath's gray shirt as I stared intensely as the small hinge of red lipstick stain near the whole of his shirt where his head would go through.
I ain't a fucking idiot.