Page 32 of Toxic Wishes

14

Abigail

I’ve always thought people would find a lot more pleasure in their routines if they burst into a sont at significant moments.”-John Barrowman

I never sleep well when I drink. I sit up and rub my temples, feeling the hangover come on. I look around as my cushion comes into focus, remembering the tidbits from last night.

Josh got his granted wish. We got fucked up, and I’m pretty sure he got fucked as well last night with the girl who had fake boobs and blonde hair. I wanted to sleep in, but sleeping somewhere that wasn’t my room was challenging. I reached for my phone to see what time it was, 10 a.m.

It was only about an hour’s drive to my parent's house. I was in no rush to go back there. So I plop down on the bed and start scrolling through the pictures we took last night. As I scrolled, a faint smile stretched across my face as I saw all the funny photos we had taken. Josh never took photos seriously. loved that about him since I hated taking my picture. My heart nearly stops when I see that I snapped a photo of my pussy.

I clicked on the photo to see what time I took it.

One am? Was I really that drunk last night?

“Oh God,” I mumble out loud. “Please tell me I didn’t” I open my messages and immediately click on Jared, my ex’s name.

Say goodbye to the best you ever had, JJ. I’ll masturbate thinking of some other guy getting me off, and I don’t have to fake it anymore.

I slap my hand to my forehead.

“God, what is wrong with me?” I say into the empty room.

When I see a message below, I begin to read out the thread.

2:00 am: You’re lucky I fucked you at all. I could have had any chick, not just a butterface one.

2:10 am: I had to watch porn to get my dick hard, you bitch.

Geeze, it's a good thing I was drunk, if I read these sober I may have actually given a damn what he said. I regretted reaching out to him at all but what’s funny, now that I’m reading the texts in a coherent state of mind, his words don’t even phase me. It’s the first time I feel nothing except regret when I think of him.

He swore he’s never cheated on me, but our lack of sex made me question his loyalty. Although he’s never hit me, he was inches away from doing it one night, and I replayed that scene over and over, asking myself why he started acting like a devil on cocaine, and the only conclusion I could come up with was it had to be his guilty conscience and whatever he was hiding. I blamed it on the alcohol at the time, but the way he acted that night was out of character, and I never knew why.

I scroll through our drunken text conversation a little more and see that at about 3:00 am, when I passed out, he texts me again.

2:45 am: I should have broken up with you first. This is bullshit. No one breaks up with me.

2:50 am: Fuck, why are you ignoring me. I just want to talk. You fucked me up. I can’t believe you left me like that. No explanation. After almost two years.

2:55 am: Ilove you. I’m sorry, please talk to me. I miss you.

3:00 am: Please come back to me.

3:15 a.m: I’ll never hide anything from you again.

It’s funny when you don’t talk to people how they start talking to themselves and practically let their insecurities get the best of them. Add a hardened conscience in the mix, and then you have the truth. But I wasn’t sure if he was referring to the drugs or the fact that he did cheat on me.

I hear moaning in the other room and immediately start rolling my eyes. “Not again.”

I place a pillow over my head.

What about breakfast?

Josh never passes up food, so maybe if I text him about breakfast, he’ll hold off on fucking the chick in his bed until I leave. I reach for my phone to type out a text.

Hey, are you ready to get mimosas and some grub to help cure our hangovers?

“Yes, Josh, oh baby,” a faint girl's voice says.

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