Page 27 of Callan

How?

How did he get back and retrieve the rest of the costume from her?

Is her husband dead?

Knocked out?

Sleeping?

Drunk?

What a weird story.

Maybe the woman sneaked out of her apartment with a bag of goodies for her secret lover, gave it to him, and went back inside.

Or maybe she just tossed his stuff out when her husband wasn’t looking.

Honestly, I don’t need to know.

But I do want to know which way he goes.Without a care in the world, the man in question strolls across the street, not tossing as much as a glance at the scorned husband’s car before heading north.

A few blocks up the street, the headlights of a car glow brightly.At first, I truly believe it’s his ride and he’s remotely turned the lights on. But then I watch him open the back door, toss the sack in, and claim the front passenger seat.

I stare at the car with my mouth open.It’s not a cab. Or another type of car service.

Has the driver waited for him all this time?

What the fuck?

The man never suggested he was in a rush, not when he checked me out or stuffed my bra with cash. And not when he almost fell off my neighbor’s balcony.

Now that was a pressing issue if you ask me.But no.

It wasn’t for him.

What?Again… What?? Who goes to fuck someone with a getaway car waiting downstairs?

This makes no sense.

The car crawls down the street and past my building before turning right at the nearest block. And that’s that.

No moreMr. Naughty Santa.

Sunk in thought, I walk inside and turn on the lights. I’m cold as fuck, so I head straight to the kitchen and make myself a cup of tea.

By the time my drink warms the porcelain cup, I’m hungry, so I'm heading to the refrigerator to make a sandwich when I remember the extra cash I have in my pocket.

I pick up my phone from the living room and order a pizza. I go wild with my order and add garlic knots and calamari.

Half an hour later, my food arrives. By that time my cup is empty, so I make more tea.

Once my drink is ready, I bring it to the living room, and set it on a tray on the coffee table before I return to the kitchen to grab a plate and a few slices of pizza.

Moments later, I enjoy myself, shoving food into my mouth. Food has never tasted that good.

Moving my attention to the upstairs apartment and chewing at the same time, I realize it’s still silent.

If it weren’t so cold outside, I’d go out for a walk and peer up to see if the lights were still on.

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