You
know what you were getting into with him. You knew he had a wife and
a child, at least one child and probably an assortment of others each
unaware of the others' existence. You knew he was the type, didn't
you?
You
walked into the restaurant knowing he had left her at home, probably
making some flimsy excuse about working late or maybe a mate's
birthday. You slid into the seat opposite, you ordered from the menu
in mangled French and you ate the meal bought for you not for her.
You knew it was where he always comes except with his wife, didn't
you?
You
went back to your place, his suggestion of course. You couldn't go
to his, no question. Not that he honestly told you why, yours is
closer. Really? Yours has no awkward questions in and nothing to
make him slip up. You thought it would be easier for getting home
after. No need for him to hand over £20 for a taxi in the early
morning hours. Although you knew there would be no early morning
hours, didn't you?
You
weren't surprised when things starts a regular pattern, always
meeting at yours, never meeting his mates, not spending much time
together except for sex. You spent Christmas alone, not even a phone
call. You waited so long on your birthday that it was too late to go
anywhere decent. You got birthday sex, but it was rushed and you
didn't like it much. Your present was nice but you knew his
secretary bought it, didn't you?
You
always take him back. He knows your weaknesses and he plays on them.
You always believe he will leave her when the kids are big enough,
when she gets a proper job, when he's under less stress at work. You
always hope he'll do it this time.
You
always know he won't though, don't you?
No comments:
Post a Comment