Four Eighteen AM

The room is still and dark with the exception of the fan blades slicing through the air and the flashing green dot on the smoke detector. She stretches her arms across the large empty bed, feeling the cold sheets beneath her fingers.

She's been lying there for hours, tossing, turning, sighing, checking her telephone on the nightstand every 8-10 minutes, praying for sleep to engulf her. 

She reaches for the phone again. The number on the clock causes her to curse through gritted teeth. She slams the phone to the table, turning onto her side, staring into the dark. 

The bars all closed at 3. Where could he possibly be? Scenarios run through her mind, leaving her terrified and livid, as her heart pounds and her hands begin to shake. 

Was he dead in a ditch? Or even worse, kissing the nape of another woman's neck, whiskey rolling off his lips?

Of course she didn't wish him dead, but her heart could one day, with time, recover from his death. She knew she'd never recover from another betrayal.

She pictures the mistress. She's probably gorgeous and young with shiny hair and flawless skin. Her stomach is firm, her legs are long, her laugh is contagious. She can probably sing beautifully. Probably does a mean Pat Benetar on karaoke. Probably dances like a whore in her size 0 blue jeans.

She sits up in the bed and throws the covers off of her heavy body. She heaves her legs over the side of the mattress for a moment, just sitting, resting, checking the phone again. No call, no text, nothing has changed but the number on the clock.

She slowly stands up and shuffles to the bathroom. Even if he was safe in their bed, she probably wouldn't be sleeping anyway. The aches, the pains, the urge to urinate every 24 minutes would be the cause of her insomnia.

The baby kicks as she rubs her stomach.

"Daddy will be home soon."


*For readers that know me personally, I know you're startled at an "unfunny" post, but this is merely fiction. I know how you small towners talk. It's 8 pm, the hubs is within three feet of me, and no one is pregnant.