It Should Matter
All the words that would never be said swirled down the drain. My pride went with them; grey and dirty and used. My shame was overshadowed by your reflection in the window. Tousled from the night you spent in my bed, not a hint of remorse, you lit a Marlboro with the monogrammed lighter: your initials intertwined with hers.
I suppose I should have asked. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.
Did you lie or did I? I told you it didn’t matter. It does matter but the words are gone now and I hope you’ll go with them.
For more Friday Fictioneers go here.