“I can explain,” I said. “It’s not what it looks like.” A woman in bed with me gathers her clothes and bolts out the open bedroom window.
“What is it then?” Rachel asked.
“We were… Well, maybe it is what it looks like, but the reason…”
“Oh, give me a break. I don’t care what the reason is.”
“But it’s important.”
“Why?”
“Because you weren’t there when I needed you.”
“Sick!”
“What?”
“You blaming me for you cheating is sick.”
“I never meant to hurt you. It’s just…”
“This conversation is over.”
I grabbed her arm. “It’s not over until I say it’s over.”
Rachel broke free. “Don’t touch me again.”
“Touch. Touch.” I poked her chest with my finger.
Rachel reached down the small of her back and pulled out a pistol.
“Woah,” I said, holding my hands in the air. I felt like a criminal when cops say freeze and put your hands up. It was that kind of vibe.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you.”
“Because deep down, you love me?”
“But I don’t love you. Never have.”
“Never?”
“Okay, maybe I do, but that’s not going to stop me from blowing your head off.”
Rachel cocked the gun.
I closed my eyes. Rachel pulled the trigger, and it clicked. She forgot to buy bullets. Rachel threw the gun to the floor. “Fuck my life!”
Drink Coffee Write 