The hair

He walked in, swaying slightly, he was late. He had said he would be, he always was but he always said. That was something she supposed. At least he always said. He walked across the bedroom and kissed her on the cheek. She stirred and turned to look at him. She hadn’t been asleep quite, but she had been dozing. She opened her eyes and that’s when she saw it. A single long golden hair on his jacket.

Of course it didn’t mean anything. Nothing concrete. It was just a hair. It could have been from anywhere. But it was then. It was in that moment that she knew he had been cheating on her. That he had been doing it for years. All of those meetings, what were they for, how could they all be work related? Now she knew that they weren’t that they were simply a cover. He had been having affairs for years. Maybe just one, one affair that had been going on all of this time. No. That would be worse!

She asked, “Had a good evening?”
He answers, “Boring, like usual. You?”
“Yes,” she answers, “pretty boring, like usual.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, “can’t be fun stuck in evening after evening while I’m at work. Maybe you should get a hobby.”

And it was at that moment that she decided to cheat on him. Maybe it was over between them. It probably was, she thought. But before it was officially over she knew she wanted to have some illicit fun.”

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