By: James Dubeau
“You know how much I hate mornings,” Mark groaned as he rolled over and buried his head under the pillows. Susan had sprung out of bed and ripped the shade open to bathe the room in bright sunlight.
“Wake-y, wake-y, eggs and bac-y!” Susan practically sang as she pounced back onto the bed. Mark sensed her onslaught and flung a spare pillow at her. She caught it in midair and landed on him, the pillow cushioned her landing. Then she sat up, straddling his body under the sheets, and started beating Mark with the pillow.
“Stop,” he protested, holding his pillow tight against his head. “I just need five more minutes of sleep.”
“You said that you would go running with me before class,” it was more of a whine than it was a beg.
“Tomorrow. I’ll go with you tomorrow. There is some studying that I need to get done at the library before class today.” He lied.
“Fine,” Susan pouted. “I’ll catch you after class tonight then. Don’t forget, it’s your turn to make dinner.”
She hopped off the bed and pulled on a pair of running shorts and a sports bra. Mark peeked a look while she got dressed, hiding back under the pillow when she turned to find her shoes under the bed and looked at him.
“See you tonight babe. Love ya.”
“Love you too.” The door slammed leaving Mark alone.
It was hollow. Everything. His words. His thoughts. His feelings. Love is what his body and ego tricked him into believing. Mark’s mind knew it wasn’t love. Not any more.
With a sigh, Mark got out of bed. A long and peaceful shower was in his future. Alone.