text: He hadn’t slept all night. She hadn’t left his mind. He knew what they would probably be doing as he texted her. She would be curled up under a blanket, naked the same way she would have been all night, on the couch watching him make breakfast in his rolled up dress shirt and skinny tie. Early morning television would fill the silent void left between bacon sizzling and the words they weren’t saying. She’d see his text slide up on her screen, Interrupting her thoughts on how perfect he was in his tight dress pants, and gold watch. His rippled forearms commanding a spatula and skillet, the same forearms she had dug into with her nails the night before as he bucked over her. The nail marks were probably still there if she looked closely. Her own little marks on him. Marking him as hers. She would be telling herself he was enough, she would make herself believe he was more than enough he was everything she ever wanted and more. In fact at that very moment she would probably be reminding herself how much better he was than him, but she’d reply to the text anyways, just to tell him not to text anymore, she’d tell herself, she’d say she was never going to do that again, she wasn’t that person anymore, and he needed to know that, that’s why she would text him back. But she would know, in the places that people hid things they know but don’t want to admit, that she did want him to and she hoped he’d decipher the code, the message, “Don’t text me anymore, but come over and fuck me the way he can’t, though it’s not exactly that he can’t is it? It is just that you are different, and now that I only have him and not you, I want you too, you’re different, you think about me in ways he doesn’t. Why can’t I have both? Who’s going to tell me I can’t? Just this once, to make sure I made the right decision. Only one more time. He leaves in 15 minutes, I’ll still be naked.” and at the same time she hoped he wouldn’t because if he did she knew she wouldn’t say no. Just once though. She said to herself. Just one more time, if he even asks at all, knowing full well he would, knowing full well he would get the message, he knew her. “Don’t text me anymore..” The text lit up his face in the morning light and he smiled knowing he had gotten what he wanted, the anxiety that had filled him all last night, and the exhaust behind his eyes, was replaced with a push of euphoria. He knew he would regret it later even as he was typing the letters. He knew it wouldn’t end well. There was too much involved now, to much said and done, and too much that would be said and done. “What are you wearing?” He sent the message knowing what it would do to him later, but for now she was all he could think about, and just one more taste... “Nothing..” Rolled over the top of his phone screen a few moments later. “When should I come over?” He thumbed message out and began getting dressed. “15 minutes” He knew it would destroy him, all the progress he had made passed her, but he closed the door behind him anyways, taking small comfort in knowing what he was about to do would destroy whatever happiness she had with him as well. The same way she had destroyed theirs.