My fiancée, Robert, had gone to his best friend Lewis’ house for a night of gaming and movies. You know, Guy’s Night In. I personally imagine a lot of manly grunting and crude jokes. Anyway, at around 5 pm he kissed me and said goodbye. I spent most of the evening working on my art. Drawing commissions are a pain because usually, what inspires my client is usually one of the things that turns my creative wheels the least.
Eventually, I gave up and turned to my old standby – Netflix. I’d been meaning to get back to my Buffy the Vampire Slayer binge. I’d left off somewhere in the middle of the third season, and my ‘TV OCD’ as Robert calls it was making me have to at least finish out the season – you know, that ‘appropriate stopping point’ thing.
I was about three episodes in when I heard some sort of commotion in the back yard. I paused, resulting in Spike being stuck with a hilarious look on his face, and went to check it out. When I got to the backyard nothing was out of the ordinary, at least that I could see. I shrugged and told myself that it was most likely our cat getting into a fight. Leo can be an ornery little butt when the mood takes him.
When I got back to my computer, I happened to notice the time: 1 am. That made me decide to finish the episode and go to bed. After about 20 more minutes of dead vampires and witty Joss Whedon one-liners, I got up, shut down the computer, and did my nightly check to let in the cat and make sure the front door was locked.
Nobody in the family ever unlocked the back door, so I never checked it. Satisfied that the door was locked and that Leo was in, I prepared for bed. You know the routine: brush your teeth, floss, check yourself out in the mirror for any huge zits, that sort of thing. After that, I headed to our bedroom, stripped down, and curled up in bed.
I was just in that weird half-dream where you’re 90% asleep, but your brain hasn’t shut completely down when I heard the bedroom door open. I didn’t think that was odd because sometimes these ‘all-nighters’ ran short when Lewis had to work the next day. I sleepily murmured “Welcome back, honey” without ever opening my eyes.
Robert walked over and gently stroked my cheek, then leaned down and kissed me tenderly, almost like I was glass and would break if he touched me too roughly. Then I heard him walk around to his side of the bed and disrobe. I remember hearing the buckle of his belt hit the floor. I felt the bed shift under his weight as he settled in. I listened to his breathing smooth out, and then drifted off to sleep.
In the morning, I woke to the sounds of pans clattering in the kitchen. I groggily rolled out of bed and threw on a nightgown. I staggered out of our room and made my morning pit stop in the bathroom just around the corner. After a few minutes, I wandered out into the kitchen. Robert was making me eggs for breakfast. He hates them, but he knows I like them – especially fried eggs between two slices of wheat bread, with mayo and honey mustard. I smiled and kissed his cheek. “Good morning, hun,” I said, “How’d you sleep?”
He smiled and replied, “Pretty good, considering that Lewis’s couch is crap.” My brow furrowed with confusion as I said, “But you slept here last night.” He put down the spatula and turned to me, replying, “No, I didn’t. Lewis and I gamed till like, 4 and then I passed out on his couch. I just got home about 30 minutes ago.” My heart started to race with the first spurt of fear as I said, “But I remember you coming home around 2… you kissed my cheek…”
And that, Officer, is when we noticed the muddy footprints by the back door, at least a couple of sizes larger than the shoes Robert wears.
Objectively mediocre.