Breach

Bishop.

Getting me a freaking wife mug, what an ass. I should buy him a pedo bear doll and see how he likes it! I’m not a housewife! Sure I cook all our meals but Antony helps whenever I clean or do the laundry or wash the dishes or…

Oh god I am a housewife! He’s right. The mug is right. I might as well buy myself a pink apron and start redecorating the house! I need to get a job, pay for some of the rent and then feel less guilty about living here scotch free. Then I can make him cook me dinners! And I’ll get him a freaking housewife mug!

“Annie, I’m using your laptop again!” I shout to the man somewhere in the living room. I hear him reply with an ‘ok’ so I grab the device from his bag.

Flipping it open as I’m walking out of the room I see he already has his email open. I’m not sure if he wants it open or not so I ask, “Is it ok if I log out of your email?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” he replies.

I’m about to log out when something catches my eye. I stop dead in my tracks, my eyes lingering on the email name. It’s from Jean…the title is about the other day. What happened the other day? When she came over to get her bag? I was here so I know nothing happened…

Though there was that moment of silence when I couldn’t hear them. What were they talking about? Was it important? Antony would have told me if it was important, right?

I’m in the hallway so Antony doesn’t realize my sudden change of behavior. I peek over the laptop to see his eyes are trained on the TV. I bite my lip. I shouldn’t look at his message, that’s wrong. He’ll be able to tell I read it anyways so it’s not like I could get away with it and I’m sure he has no interest in her. They broke up. They’re divorced. If he still had feelings for her then they wouldn’t have divorced…right?

Why am I worrying about it? What Mick said was right. If Antony had no interest in me he wouldn’t be with me. He wouldn’t date another guy, especially one a decade younger, if he wasn’t serious. I’m overreacting. It doesn’t matter.

Shaking my head, I quickly log out of his email. If I look at it any longer I won’t be able to resist. I can’t help but continue to worry though as I browse on the net. I can’t deny that I’ve never considered cheating before. Opportunities to do so have arisen in my previous relationships though I have always turned them down that does not mean that…that other people won’t do the same.

For all I know Antony could have thought he liked me and now with Jean coming back he’s realized that his feelings for her have not changed. He could dump me and go back to living a normal life with her. One where he can admit who his lover is, taking them on dates, hold their hand in public without being ridiculed…isn’t that much easier? Isn’t that something people want to do?

Looking over to Antony, who is still watching TV and not noticing my mental panic, I wonder if he’d tell me about the other day. I have to make it seem like I didn’t see it as a message though. I could just ask what they talked about while I didn’t hear them. It won’t be suspicious. It’s normal for me to be curious about that right?

“So…w-what were you and Jean talking about the other day?” I ask, forcing myself to look at the computer screen. Somehow I feel like my face will give away what I’m thinking.

“Huh?” Antony takes his attention from the TV and directs it to me. “Stuff, her new job and apartment.”

Stuff? Doesn’t someone say ‘stuff’ when they are hiding something? Stuff is a word that should be removed from the dictionary. It makes people nervous.

“Stuff?” I finally look away from the laptop to see that Antony has returned his gaze to the TV. He looks nervous. Why is he nervous? If he’s nervous that means something happened right? What could have happened in such a short time frame though? My throat feels dry. “Ah, I see…stuff.”

“You aren’t thinking about something stupid are you?” Antony asks. His nervousness disappears and is replaced with what appears to be annoyance. He frowns as he faces me again.

I shrug. “Not really.”

“You sound like you are.”

“I’m not,” I hiss, shutting the laptop a little harder than necessary. The sound causes the both of us to jump. I bite my lip, wondering if he’s mad about me taking my anger out on his laptop.

Sighing, Antony says, “We didn’t do anything if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I didn’t ask if you did anything.” Technically I didn’t. I asked what they were talking about. So if he says that does that mean something did happen or am I looking too much into this? It’s his ex-wife I should be concerned! Had she been a random woman I doubt I would care this much but she…they were together for so long. She was his first girlfriend, the love of his life from high school. Most people would be concerned.

“Bishop-“

“Did something happen?” I snap at him. Now I’m definitely acting like a wife. I’m going to beat myself up for this later but right now I have more important things to be concerned about, like the way Antony is looking at me right now, like he has something to hide.

“No.”

“Bullshit.”

Antony turns the TV off. The noise is probably causing him a headache…or me. I could be causing him a headache but that is his own damn fault for obviously hiding something from me. He sighs and turns to me. He tries to put a hand on my shoulder but I slap it away. He looks hurt by the action but I don’t apologize. I won’t until I hear what he has to say.

“Don’t get mad about it because it’s nothing,” he says.

“I’ll decide if I’m going to freak out after I hear it.” Because if it was nothing he would have already told me and we wouldn’t be like this.

“She wanted to know if I was serious with whomever was in the apartment and if I wasn’t…it seemed like she was interested in getting back together and she might have…kissed me. It was on the cheek though!”

I feel my anger rising. She kissed him? It doesn’t matter if it was on the cheek or not. His ex-wife kissed him. Of course that pisses me off! She knew there was someone here so she should have assumed it was serious and just asked rather than kiss him. I need to calm down though. I have a few more questions.

“And what did you say to her?”

“What do you mean?” He looks confused.

“About getting back together…you said you were serious and you weren’t interested…right?” But by his blank expression I can already see the answer. He didn’t. He didn’t say we were serious? He didn’t say he wasn’t interested? Or did he…tell her there was a possibility of them getting back together? “You didn’t say anything?”

“I was in shock and she left before I could say anything,” he stutters out in a panic. He’s probably panicking because of me. I get the feeling I’m not pulling a very happy face right now. Why would I be? My nightmares are coming true.

If he didn’t answer that means he isn’t sure, doesn’t it? I wouldn’t be surprised if he still had feelings for her. He went from one relationship to another without much time in between to stop and think about anything. I feel sick.

“I…I’m leaving,” I grunt, getting up from the couch. I don’t bother to grab clothes or anything, simply slip on my shoes.

“Bishop, it’s nothing!” Antony shouts, following after me. He grasps my arm but I shove him, hard. He stumbles over the entryway and falls to the ground.

“I don’t want to see you right now.”

I don’t want to see anyone right now.
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