TWELVE

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Friday, May 26th, 2017

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Friday, May 26th, 2017. 3:37 AM.
• • •

The past two days had flown by. At work, Clark and Lois were away in Gotham most days so seeing him every day wasn't a reality, just yet. As much as I enjoyed watching his retreating back as he followed Lois out of the building, the way he smiled at her or would place a hand on her lower back would twist my stomach into a knot. I know he was being friendly. I know they have history and I know he isn't mine anymore, but seeing it still hurt.

Sighing, I shoved my toothbrush into my mouth almost forgetting to turn on the vibrations. My now shorter hair was easier to style and took less time to dry. I ran a few fingers through the damp strands positive it would be dry by the time I needed to leave the house. Over my shoulder, I heard Ben snore and turn in his sleep. My interview with the Metropolis Morning Show was at 7:30, but I needed to be there by 5.

My hopeful award-winning article about Superman's memorial and his inevitable return was to be published today, and Perry had assured me going on television to talk about it was what the world needed. I, on the other hand, have had a bad feeling since I was told.

"Superman's widow reflects on her time after his death, and his surprising return from the dead." He had read out and I spit into the sink, finishing up, remembering how his eyes were bright with excitement.

With quick work, I applied makeup. A nice slightly dewy base, a bit of bronzer, my favorite peach-colored blush, a few swipes of mascara, dark brown eyeshadow messily smudged along my eyelashes, and lastly my favorite tinted gloss. I surveyed my reflection knowing the makeup people at the studio would clean up and make me camera ready.

I had two outfits picked out. Careful to not wake Ben, I crept into the room in my underwear, swiped the dresses out of my closet and hurried back to the bathroom. I hung them both behind the door. One was a black knee-length dress with structured shoulders and a deep but secure neckline. The other was a marigold yellow short sleeve midi dress with a v neck, it was looser and more of boho styled dress. Ben adores the black dress on me, he said it makes my hips look amazing. I reached for the yellow dress slipped it on and grabbed my nude stilettos from where I set them by the couch.

My white long sweater was hanging off the couch, and my purse was next to it. My phone was-where was my phone? Concerned, I looked around. Spotting it was easy, but when I turned it over and looked at the time, I balked. It was 4:35! I needed to leave now. Hurrying, I threw my purse over my shoulder, slipped on my sweater, and grabbed my keys before heading out the door.

As I waited for the elevator I pinned my short strand up in a messy what have you and pulled a few wispy pieces out and ruffled my bangs for volume. With the same sick feeling in my stomach and the same headache from yesterday, I marched into the elevator eager for this interview to be over.

MIZPAH | CLARK KENT IIWhere stories live. Discover now