Handsome Brute

I didn’t mean to sleep with him last night, my handsome brute.  I had been dropped home after a few unexpected drinkies in town with a friend.  He was standing there, waiting.  His beautiful brown eyes looked at me.  Devoted.  A look of love.

I had a conversation with myself in my head.  ‘No, don’t go back there.  You said NEVER AGAIN.  You have moved on.  There IS NO GOING BACK.’ 

Then the alcohol spoke.  ‘What the hell, who will know? I'm AN ADULT’ and threw caution to the wind. 

I’d forgotten how heavy he would be, lying on the bed beside me.  It had been a while.  He had put on a few pounds since he had the snip last year and his increasing girth had become a touchy subject.  Still, better safe than sorry.

We cuddled close for warmth.  The wine hit me and I fell asleep quickly. 

I awoke early and listened to his deep breath as he slept on.  I picked up my book and read quietly, trying to retrieve some of the duvet. 

The children wouldn’t be home for hours yet.  The house felt so different without their presence.  It had only been hours since I had seen them, but I longed for their return. 

I crept out of the bed and caught sight of myself in the mirror.  The dregs of last nights make-up smudged down my face.  A vision indeed in a rather old fashioned cotton nightdress that I came across, while rummaging in the bowels of my wardrobe late last night.  ‘Good choice, you sexy bitch’, I whispered, winking at myself.    

I looked back at him in the bed thinking that it was too late for regrets now.  He looked at me with one eye opened, but didn't really acknowledge me.

Back to bed with a cuppa and toast, I thought that it had been a long time since anyone, other than Me Mammy, had brought me breakfast in bed. 

‘The children will be old enough to boil the kettle soon,’ I thought optimistically.

My sleeping partner stirred.  He looked happy to see me and me him. 

But then he was

gone

leaving dog hair and paw prints all over my crisp white duvet.