Page 28 of Callan

I stuff my mouth with the last slice of pizza and experience that perfect sensation of satisfaction only carbs can give.

Life is good.

I’m warm, fed, and brimming with questions I have no desire to find answers for.

A few moments pass, and I almost fall asleep when a loud noise makes me push upright.

My hand jerks to the side, knocking the remote control off the couch. It hits the floor with a sharp sound. But not as sharp as the screeching voices coming from upstairs.

They’re arguing again.Oh, fuck.The soothing effect of makeup sex must’ve worn off, and now they’re at each other throats again.

I don't need to walk outside and look up to know this is what they've been doing.

The voices grow louder and more menacing, and my curiosity soars.

Bundled up in my robe, I push up from the couch, pace to the balcony, and slide the door open before peeking outside and tilting my face up to catch a word or two.

A string of expletives cloys the air before she smashes something against the wall––another vase, maybe––accuses him of infidelity––go figure––and tosses him out.

Now that’s an interesting development.

I’m all ears when he threatens her not to dare to think about finding someone else.

Grrr.

He’s so out of touch.

He tells her he’ll be back.

She dares him to do it.

He dares her to fuck someone else.

Everybody’s a little off.

For now, he’s out.

He yells at her while packing up some things and storming out the door before she sends another projectile to the exit.

They must like this kind of crap.

I inch closer to the balustrade, and a few moments later, the woman’s husband, a beefy, bearded, kind of rough looking man, rounds his car.

Lucky bastard.

There is still no ticket on the windshield.

He yanks the back door open, tosses the duffel bag in the back seat, and slides behind the steering wheel a moment later, but not before looking up.

I’m not sure of the aim of his angry stare, so I jerk back almost falling backward, afraid he might notice me.

When the roaring sound of the car engine moves down the road, I muster enough courage to step forward and take another peek.

He’s gone.

Finally.

A sigh leaves my chest, and slightly more relaxed, I step back when my foot slips, and I barely catch myself, my arms curling around the balustrade like ivy.

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