I toss and turn in my bed, failing to get to sleep. How can I? Aiden is finally coming back tomorrow from his work trip, and I am going to see him after two months!
No matter how much I try, I won't be able to control my excitement, especially around him. His hard, desperate lips covering my soft and shy ones, pulling, biting, and wanting more. His lean muscular hands moving along my neck, making their way past my breasts to my... and I accidentally rolled off my bed.
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It's 7:30 in the morning when my alarm wakes me up as usual. I am not a morning person, but I have to exercise and stay fit to compete with those skinny models my boyfriend keeps photographing. Though he assures me, there is nothing to worry about, and I believe him. I still do it anyway. After staring at my off-white ceiling for five minutes, I toss over to get my phone.
My phone has no new messages or notifications. Not that I was expecting my phone loaded with messages, but I can hope for my boyfriend to at least let me know he has landed. As always, I text him first.
Hey....how was your flight?
7:40 am. Sent to Aiden
His response is immediate.
It was okay; I reached home an hour ago.
7:40 am. Received from Aiden
My stomach flutters with butterflies. I am finally going to see him. I have missed him so much. We rarely talk when he goes on his work trips. I know being a fashion photographer is hard. He shoots for twenty hours straight sometimes, and as much as I am proud of him, his work-life gets annoying.
I text him back with a wide grin on my face.
Great... still on for lunch?
7:41 am. Sent to Aiden
No, love, I am tired. Let's meet for dinner at my studio.
7:41 am. Received from Aiden
My face falls, I was looking forward to seeing him, but I tell myself that it's okay. I understand. I always do. He is tired, and he needs his space. I don't want to behave like a clingy bitch, but that still hurts. Okay is all I can manage. I wait for him to reply something nice like "I miss you", but he doesn't.
After aimlessly pacing around my cramped bedroom waiting for his reply, I assume he must have dozed off. At least that's what I want to believe. I get off my bed and go to the bathroom to get ready for the day when my phone rings again. I immediately rush back to my bed to grab it, thinking it might be Aiden who has finally behaved like his old self, but it isn't. It's my mother. I am not surprised, as it's a part of her routine to call me every morning to check on me and make sure I am living my life just as she instructed.
"Hi mom," I say as politely as I can.
"How long have you been up?" Yup, there goes my good day.
"I just woke up mom," I say politely again.
"Then why didn't you call me? Should I be always the one calling? Can you never call me?"
Anger boils through me.
