Blacks And Blues

13| Ex-husbands and late night messages

Matt stepped out of the shower with a contented sigh, the warmth flooding the bathroom and pulling on his eyelids. He longed sleepily for his bed.

Ignoring his wet hair, he focused on drying his hot skin with a towel before turning to the sink and picking out his toothbrush.

When his breath smelt satisfyingly like mint and flowers and his mouth was cool and tasteless, he gently pushed open the bathroom door and stepped into his room. The steam didn't follow this time.

In quick robotic movements, he pulled on his pyjama bottoms, flicked off the light switch and slid under the covers. They weren't nearly as thick as the duvets he'd used in Oklahoma where the weather was cooler. In fact, they weren't thick at all but he'd still die from heat and suffocation if he dared cover himself completely.

Fluffing up his soft pillow with his arms, he plopped his wet head onto it, sighing in content.

Finally, he thought, ready to lose himself in a dreamless sleep. Of course his phone would never really let him rest.

It dinged with incoming messages from his WhatsApp. Grunting with annoyance he picked up the iPhone lying beside him on the bedside table.

Glancing at the name on his screen, he sat up immediately, the sleepiness he'd felt a second ago flying out the metaphoric window.

Jess:
Hey Matt. How are you? :)

He stared at the message for while, still not believing that she was the one texting him. It seemed like mere hours ago when she'd been just a house away.

There would be no more sneaking out to hang out on the rooftop.

Ignoring the familiar longing in his chest for home, he began to type a reply.

Matt:
I'm good. You?

Her reply was immediate.

Jess:
Peachy.

Matt cracked his head for something to say. Maybe something goofy but not too silly, or something sweet but not desperate. Definitely not desperate.

He sighed. Chatting with her had never been this difficult.

He decided to be honest, to tell her exactly how he felt instead.

Matt:
I miss you.

For a mortifying minute, as he stared at the "typing" beneath her name, he dreaded her reply. He was terrified that she'd push him away, or worse, ignore him all together.

She was very good at ignoring people.

"Chukwudi!"

Matt sighed and stared at his blue walls in exasperation, tempted to pretend he didn't hear his mom scream his name at ten fifteen at night.

She wasn't giving up. "Chukwudi!"

"Yes Mom!" He yelled back pushing back the thin cover and running for the door, his phone left behind on his pillow.

Rushing down the stairs, he made a beeline for the kitchen where he suspected his mom was.

He glanced around at the empty kitchen. "Mom?"