Breach

“Jean showed up, seriously?” Xavier asks with wide eyes. I peer over my laptop to see that he is resting comfortably in a chair; not at all minding that this is supposed to be work. Instead of working he’s here with me trying to gossip.

Had this not been an issue that is somewhat bothering me I would be shouting at him to get back to work. However, I do feel a bit odd with Jean showing up. She has sent me a few emails, telling me how things are. I often replied with something along the line of ‘good to hear’ or ‘that’s great,’ sometimes in those exact words.

It’s odd messaging your ex. We didn’t break up on the greatest terms. Our marriage, you could say relationship in general, wasn’t the best either. In the beginning it was great. I thought I had found the perfect girl for me, but growing up changes people and we ended up like this.

We went from being able to tell each other everything to feeling awkward being in the same room. Not only did she show up but…but she said some weird things…

“What’d she want?” Xavier asks. At times like this I wonder if he’s truly a member of the male species. His interest in gossip is strange.

“A bag,” I answer though my mind flashes back to her whisper. “And…”

“And?” The man grins, knowing that something, as he would put it, juicy is coming up.

Thinking about it makes me uncomfortable…

“Is this it?” I ask, pulling down a bag that had been shoved in the back of the top shelf. It’s no surprise she missed it. The few times I had seen it I assumed it was one of my pieces of luggage but seeing it now it’s a name brand that I have no interest in.

“Yeah,” Jean answers, taking the bag from my arms. The woman brushes a strand of hair back, an action I know she does when nervous. I assume she’s nervous due to this situation. I know I sure as hell am, nervous, uncomfortable; the usual when ex’s meet.

However, what I had assumed she was nervous about is thrown into a ditch because she begins to ask me quietly, “Is it serious?”

“Is what serious?” If I was uncomfortable earlier I don’t know how to explain how I feel now.

Jean jerks her head to the side, her eyes looking to the direction of the bathroom where Bishop is “hiding.” I raise a curious brow, wondering why she’s asking. What’s it matter to her? Is it a chick thing to check up on their ex and see if they’ve moved on or not? I haven’t bothered to ask her about her love life.

“If it isn’t,” she whispers, as her cheeks turn red. Quickly Jean leans up, pressing a swift kiss to the corner of my lips. My eyes widen at the familiar feeling of her lips, as soft as I remember them to be.

Jean leaves the room, talking about herself before I get a chance to say anything about her suggestion or the kiss. My brain is so muddled that I don’t know what to say or how to even react. What the hell just happened?

“Sounds like she wants to get back together,” Xavier states the obvious. Though it is obvious what she wanted I want to know why. We’re divorced. If she wanted us to be together she wouldn’t have gotten the divorce. We’d simply have a little hiatus and eventually get back together, right? So…what…what’s going on here?

I groan as I rub my temple. I feel a headache coming on and it is once again Jean’s fault. “But why?”

Xavier shrugs. “Duh know. Dude, women don’t even understand women so don’t bother trying to figure it out.”

I suppose he’s right. We were in a relationship for some long yet I still don’t understand her. She should know I’m not interested in rekindling our marriage. I’m already dating someone…not that she needs to know who considering she would go bat shit crazy. Bishop may be 18 but he’s still in high school. Most people would go bat shit crazy upon hearing that.

“Get back to work,” I huff, tossing a stapler at the far too comfortable man. Xavier yelps, grabbing the stapler that hit his arm and waving it at me.

“I could get you fired for that.”

“Don’t go there. I have more shit on you,” I laugh taking my stapler from him. Xavier pouts but does as he’s told, mumbling something about ‘cruel bosses’. Cruel? I’m pretty laid back. I’ll show him cruel if that’s what he wants.

Speaking of cruel bosses…

Mine just called claiming that I am going to have to do some overtime tonight. Thinking about it I would be pleased upon hearing such news had I still been with Jean but now I feel disappointed. Knowing that I have less time with Bishop tonight depresses me. Not that I would tell the brat that, it’d go straight to his head.

I send the boy a text, claiming that I have to stay a little late for work. A few seconds later I get his reply, claiming that he’ll keep dinner warm. I grin; it’s nice having a housewife. He even cleans. Maybe on the way home I can stop somewhere and get him one of those ‘number one wife’ mugs. Heh that will surely piss him off.

It doesn’t matter. He’s even cute when he’s mad.

~

“The hell is this?” Bishop’s eyebrow is twitching.

“A present,” I answer, my grin so large that it actually makes my face hurt.

“Why would you give me a fucking number one wife mug!” Bishop hollers, tossing it into the sink. I gasp upon hearing it ‘cling’. Quickly, I pick it up. Thankfully he didn’t take it out of the box so it’s still intact inside.

Chuckling, I wave the box in front of him. “Because you’re the number one house wife.”

“I’m a guy!”

I shrug while opening the box, removing the pink mug and placing it in the cupboard. Bishop’s flushing more from embarrassment than anger. Seeing my grin makes him growl, “I’m tossing it.”

“You won’t,” I laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek. The action makes his cheeks darken. Ah, it was a good idea to get the mug.

“Annie, you asshole!”