much you want it to. I'd married young. Too young. And I
was grateful we'd both figured out our mistake while we
were stil young, before we had kids, before we'd tied
ourselves together for a life and had none left after we fel
apart.
I'd married him for the right reasons. I'd divorced him for
the right reasons, too. Hadn't I?
I'm watching him, and he doesn't know it. I wish he could
feel the burn of my gaze from across the bar, that
somehow my eyes alone could make him turn, but Austin's
too busy paying attention to the game and his friends and
even that brown-haired whore shaking her tits every time
he glances at her. I can't necessarily blame him for looking.
They're like two beach bals shoved into a tiny tank top.
But I don't like to watch him looking.
It's another late night for him when he should be worried
about getting up early in the morning, and another late night
for me studying for tests I know I'l pass but don't know if
passing wil matter in the end. School's been going on a
passing wil matter in the end. School's been going on a
long time, longer than I imagined it would when I decided
to go. Money's tight and even community colege costs a
lot when you have to pay rent and buy food and pay off a
car, too.
I only stopped here because I knew if I went home and he
wasn't waiting for me I'd be furious. We'd fight and then
we'd fuck, and I'm getting tired of that. I'm tired of him
teling me what to do and making me feel like shit for doing
anything else. I'm beginning to think this whole marriage
thing was a bad idea, but after only two years I don't want
to give up. I don't want everyone to laugh behind their
hands and point and whisper. Mostly I don't want to give
him up just so Miss Big Tits and Bad Extensions can get
her claws into him.
At home I shower and toss my clothes into the hamper,
and I'm making myself a sandwich when Austin comes in.
He doesn't act drunk, but when he kisses me I taste beer.
I turn my face to give him my cheek.
'What, you don't want to kiss me? Fine.'
