When she came home from being out all night and God only knows where, I heard her flop off those godforsaken fuck-me pumps in that drunken stupor of hers downstairs.
Barely being able to make it up the second floor, she stumbled into our bedroom and I saw her as I have so many times before in this unflattering state.
"Hey baby...," She slurred, smelling like a sloppy concoction of Miller Light, Aqua Net and sex.
After I warned her to stay and that we'd talk in the morning, she planted one on me and I tasted his drink, maybe it was Sambuca.
When I pushed her face away, she grabbed my shaking hands that touched those clammy, wet palms one last time.
I was always able to read people from the get-go and when I read her mind, this time it told me that yes, she was indeed in love with him and that she would do this again.
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