I have missed him, and I wanted him back home – with me.
But I still hate it.
I hate the smell, the scent of the soap he uses to cleans himself of her perfume. I hate the silence, the questions that can’t be asked. I hate how he says he wants to go check his e-mail and leaves the room to be able to Skype her to say he’s home and everything’s fine. I hate the earrings he’s brought me, knowing that it means he bought her something of the same value, maybe even the same earrings, as that time with the ruby necklace.
We’ll have dinner. Soon we’ll be able to pretend he hasn’t been away at all.
But tonight when we make love, I’ll be thinking about the fact that he has been inside her body since he was last with me. And I’ll look into his eyes and know that he knows what I’m thinking.