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“What the…?”
Slowly, I open one eye and use my right hand to comb through my disheveled hair. Sitting up on the couch, I lean back against it and sigh loudly, my gaze wandering over the destruction that has consumed my apartment.
It sure sounded like a great idea to destroy everything I could get my hands on, but now…who the hell is going to clean all this crap? And, on top of it, the bedroom had the worst of it. It still reeks of wine, which makes it impossible to sleep there…and that’s why I had to settle for the couch to get some shut-eye.
Not that it was easy to fall asleep.
My mind kept on being assaulted by images of Peter thrusting into that woman and, even when I finally drifted off, dreams of being hauled into a police station for questioning kept on badgering me.
God, I wish it were the weekend. At least that way I’d have the time to clean up all this mess and still feel sorry about myself. But it’s not, it’s just a regular Tuesday and—oh, crap, what time is it?
Frantically looking for my phone, I find it lodged between two of the couch pillows. I swipe my thumb over the screen, anxiously waiting for it to light up, and sigh as I watch the numbers on display there: still seven am, which means I’m not late for work yet.
Thing is, I’m not sure if I’m up to it.
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