Folie à Deux

You could have knocked me out with a feather.

It was Pete’s turn to sit on the couch waiting, tightlipped and worrying. It was Mia who hadn’t called this time. He knew she had gone over to Zoe’s earlier, but he had expected her to be home for dinner at least.

Pete loved Mia more than he could possibly even express and the thought that someone else might steal her away from him made his blood boil. He had enough insecurities of his own, but Mia was at the top of the list.

She was gorgeous, with bright eyes and dark hair. She could have any guy she wanted, and she had ended up with him. He felt like damaged goods and Pete couldn’t help but wonder what Mia saw in him.

I know you’ve heard this all before, but we’re just Hell’s neighbors.

She finally came home, apologizing, saying that her and Zoe talked for so long, drank a little too much wine, that they lost track of the time.

“I don’t want to fall back into this habit,” she was saying, but Pete wasn’t listening. He was pacing around the living room, trying to just breathe. “Pete, please just look at me.”

He ran a hand through his hair, and glanced at her, her expression worried and nervous…why was she nervous?

Pete had stopped pacing and Mia moved towards him, wrapping her arms around him when she was close enough. He sighed finally, his arms moving to wrap around her as well.

“I love you,” Mia mumbled.

Why won’t the world revolve around me?

Pete knew he should be home, should be with Mia… but he was in one of his moods again. He didn’t like feeling like this, or thinking like this. All his thoughts were dark, brooding, went against the truth.

He didn’t deserve Mia. She could do so much better than him. Though the thought of losing her tore him apart on the inside. He hated thinking like that, but, well, sometimes he just couldn’t help it.

He really had never cheated before… at least, he had never cheated on Mia; there had been a few slip ups with past girlfriends. When he got in these moods, typically he would force himself to go home, but on this one occasion, he went to a club instead, ordered a couple strong cocktails. He didn’t call her; further proof that she could do better.

And finally, even more proof that he didn’t deserve her: he cheated on her. He cheated on her with a blonde with huge tits who was willing to fuck him in the disgusting bathroom. He felt ugly and the ugliness was illuminated by the cheap fluorescent lights in that bathroom and magnified by the thumping bass line of the club music.

But I must confess, I’m in love with my own sins.