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Please read this story and then decide your actions at the end to get to the next section! Leave a comment on how you want the story to go!
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“What is this?” I can’t get my voice louder than a whisper. Peter doesn’t hear me. But the girl in our bed does.
“Oh my god,” she gasps and shoves Peter off of her. Finally, Peter figures out that something’s not right. He looks over his shoulder to see me standing in the doorway.
“Peter,” I say, weakly. “What the hell are you doing?” My eyes fill with tears but I refuse to cry in front of my boyfriend’s mistress. It doesn’t help that she’s giving me the most pitying look I’d ever seen.
“You weren’t supposed to be home,” Peter babbles.
“Oh, I’m sorry! I’ll call ahead next time to make sure you aren’t fucking someone in our bed!” My voice hitches.
“This doesn’t mean anything, babe!” Peter pleads. Something shifts in the blonde’s expression. Clearly, she thought she meant something.
“I’m going to go,” she says quietly. She doesn’t look me in the eye when she passes me to leave the bedroom.
“How could you?” I demand. Peter stammers a few non-answers and half assed apologies, before releasing a deep sigh.
“Look.” He runs a hand through his tousled hair. “Things haven’t felt right between us for a while. You’re working all the time. I’m working all the time. I feel like we’ve fallen out of sync.”
“So, you screw someone else behind my back? That’s your brilliant solution to our problems?” I’m completely taken aback.
“Don’t pin this all on me,” Peter says defensively.
“Don’t try to make this my fault!” I snap. “I’ve been working so hard because I’m going after my dream. And guess what? That dream came true today. I wanted to celebrate with you.”
“Maybe if you put more effort into this relationship instead of playing with clothes, we might be celebrating right now,” Peter shot back. My mouth drops open. I’m completely speechless. These are Peter’s true colors. I’m utterly disgusted. I never want to see his face again.
“I have to get out of here.” I leave the bedroom without another word. I can hear Peter trying to say something to me, but I ignore him. I walk out of the apartment complex and into the brisk nighttime air of the city.
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Like the one time I’m even slightly naughty, it comes back to bite me. Literally…
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Oh crap. I definitely would be pulling that blond haired bimbo out of my bed and escorting her to the door, she can get her clothes after I leave (if it’s actually his apartment) and pack my things after a few of the most expensive items accidently hit the floor. Let Peter figure out how to get Ms. Bombshell her clothes and how to get his when I throw them out the window.
Note: I went through this and she used to be my best friend.