Hand to the forehead
Staring over her coffee and eggs
Thinking over the night before
Did she really do what she remembers?
Or did she dream him
The bar
The hotel
The sex
The dragging in home late?
As she gets ready for work
And to take the kids to school
She looks beneath her robe
And spots the marks.
No.
It wasn't a dream,
FUCK!
She hides them as her husband enters the room,
He kisses her on the forehead and smiles.
He asks her how her night had went.
She says great and whispers "I love you."
"I love you", he says back.
"Babe, I'm sorry about the fight last night."
"I'm sorry, you don't know how sorry I am about last night too"
Of course he'll never understand and she'll never tell.
Author notes
first I've wrote in a while
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