Receiving a thud of realisation should be a life changing moment, lying on a mattress with two naked women is never a good time for a life changing moment unless it’s your first threesome.
‘Now this shit is going to change my life’ he thought to himself.
Staring up at a ceiling he didn’t recognise. His mind replaying intimate moments shared with his girlfriend. The room was so quiet he could just make out his girlfriends voice in his head, ‘I love you’ she whispered. He could hear her but the truth was she didn’t actually know where he was right now, she never knew because she trusted him. A trust that’s wasted and never mentioned. He missed her, for the first time in months he missed her.
“I need to get out of here” he pulled the sheets from his body which in turn uncovered the two women.
Hours ago he couldn’t wait to see the pair of them in their pure beauty but at that moment it just pulled his cheating ways to the surface.
“Where you going?” questioned the blonde one.
At that moment he couldn’t remember their names which made him feel worse, he must have known their names at some point because what would he have called them hours ago. Right now they weren’t on the tip of his tongue like they were before; he felt guilty which is a foreign feeling to him. An impatient thought concluded that he will name them the blonde one and the brunette one, weighing up the situation it didn’t really fucking matter and those names will have to do for now. He remembered meeting them at a hen party, it wasn’t until back at this house much later in the evening that he realised the party was actually for one of the women he went home with, which one that was soon to be wed he couldn’t quite be sure.
Picking up a woman on her hen night would be something only heard in stories and rumours from heroes of men in bars, he’d tell his friends he felt proud of this conquest but deep down he had this burning feeling which he believed to be guilt. Having never felt guilt quite like this before he was quite unsure what to do with it and hoped it would pass before long just like that of his hangover.
“I’ve got to go, I need to get home” he said while coming to terms with his surroundings.
“Are you ok?” the blonde one muttered with slight concern in her voice,
“You’re not going to tell anyone about last night are you?” stirred the brunette one.
“No, I just need my own bed” he lied.
It had now become obvious that it was the brunettes’ hen party the evening before.
He got up and soon realised he was on a mattress on the floor of a living room, looking around the room there was nothing obvious to which woman the living room belonged. No pictures of people on the bland magnolia walls, no sign of other life in the close quarters that he found himself in. Rather than ask any questions and give them the opportunity to notice ha had no fucking clue where he was he stumbled across the living room straight through the door into the kitchen. Picking up what he believed to be his packet of cigarettes from the side, they could have been any ones but no one else was there to argue their case. Sliding one out of the packet and placing it between his lips without thought as he seemed to be in autopilot whilst he planned an escape route. The kitchen opened up to the right, a work surface the shape of a horse shoe shadowed by head height cupboards that only took a break for the window above the sink. Next to him a breakfast bar that was built onto the work surface which housed stools, he was glad he noticed this before he moved or he would have stubbed his toe on a hidden stool leg. He stood by the French doors on the left side of the kitchen in his boxers with an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth; he could see the disgust look on his girlfriends face if she were ever to see a picture of him now. The beautiful morning sun was shining through the window onto his feet, he loved his girlfriend and he knew he needed to make more of an effort in telling her. Confused by this sudden overwhelming guilt he wasn’t quite sure what to do next; he fumbled between empty beer bottles and cigarette packets on the breakfast table for a lighter trying not to make too much noise before one of the women came to check on him. The only two things he knew for sure right now where that he had just had a threesome with a woman who’s on the path to marriage and that he needed to see his girlfriend. First things first he needed to get out of this house.
“Great . . . chalk that up as another reason to why I’m going to hell” he muttered to himself whilst shaking his head.
The smoke rolled down into his lungs like lava, the first cigarette after a night out always made him feel a little sick. A couple of minutes had passed full of thought, he dropped the end of his cigarette into a half drank can of beer because there was no ashtray in sight.
“Right . . . let’s get the fuck out of here” he said to himself as a little motivation.
He crept back into the living room; both women seemed to have fallen back asleep. To the right of the room was a small two-seater sofa in an alcove over shadowed by stairs, at the far end of the room under a window was another two-seater sofa. To the left was a fireplace and next to him was a TV unit that stretched the full length of the wall, he found it strange there were no pictures up or any other signs that life did indeed float in and out of this room. His jeans were folded over the arm of the sofa in the alcove along with his t-shirt, picking them up he made his way back into the kitchen so he could get dressed without waking the proof of his regret in the living room. Picking up the packet of cigarettes and lighter from the breakfast table he slid them into his pocket, he pulled his phone out of his other pocket and noticed he had three missed calls from the girlfriend. Panic and guilt crashed over him like a wave, ‘perhaps she knows where I am’ he thought to himself. He needed to snap out of this trance because staring at his phone wasn’t going to get him out of this house. Creeping back into the living room he couldn’t see his shoes and socks, checking by both sofas and the other side of the mattress there was no sign of them. Toying with the idea of just leaving without them he thought of one more place to check, by the front door. He headed towards the door which was next to the sofa at the base of the stairs, slowly pulling the handle down trying not to wake the women behind him it squeaked and the door opened towards him. He stepped through and turned to close the door behind him, with a bolt of shock he suddenly noticed the brunette woman was sat up staring at him. For a split second he thought about saying something but with the look on her face he chose not to and just closed the door which broke their eye contact. The front door was next to him in this crowded little box room filled with coats and shoes; he saw his shoes straight away but no socks. ‘Fuck this’ he thought as he made the decision to leave the socks behind whilst slipping his shoes on. Pulling the latch down on the lock of the front door it swung open and the warm breeze soaked into his lungs and through his hair, first problem done.
He walked down the road for a couple of minutes before ringing a taxi; he didn’t think it was wise to wait outside the house he had just escaped from. Pulling his phone from his pocket he stared at the screen thinking what he was going to say, he dialled her number.
“Hey . . . where are you? I’ve been trying to get hold of you.” She said when she answered.
“Hey . . . I’m sorry. I got a little drunk last night and crashed with a mate.”
“I’ve been worried about you, are you ok?” she said sounding concerned.
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I’ll be home soon; I’m just waiting for a taxi.”
“Ok, I’ll stay in bed and wait for you. I love you” she said with a giggle.
“I love you too” he replied, he really did.
She trusted him and always would, every time he knew he never deserved her.
Sitting on a wall waiting for his taxi he pulled a cigarette from the packet, put it in his mouth. He lit it and lent back, his guilt floated away with the smoke as he sat there and started to laugh to himself.
‘That was a close one’ he thought.
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