Love Coming from the Least Expected

A warm, fluffy blanket was draped over me. The next moment, I
felt a soft kiss on my cheek.
Afterward, I could hear him shuffling around the room, eventually
realizing that he was cleaning up the mess we had made. My
heart clenched inside my chest with a strange, foreign emotion
that I couldn‟t place my finger on.
When he finished cleaning, he carried me to my bedroom and
tucked me in, even remembering to pour a glass of water and set
it out on my nightstand. What a good... friend.
Absolutely worn out, I drifted off to sleep not long after he left
the house.
I vaguely registered someone lying down next to me in my sleep.
When I jerked awake, I saw Lyle sprawling on the bed, reeking of
alcohol.
So he hadn‟t gone to seek comfort in another woman but in
alcohol instead?
I pinched my nose as disgust welled up inside me. Even so, I got
out of bed to draw a bath for him. Then I helped him out of his
clothes and into the tub before going downstairs to prepare some
pain relief pills for his oncoming hangover.
I used to do this regularly for him in the past as I pitied him for
staying out so late to attend business dinners and meetings, but
looking back on it now, I wanted to laugh at my own stupidity. He
hadn‟t deserved my pity at all.
After downing the pain relief pills, Lyle caught me off guard by
pressing me onto the bed and trying to kiss me, the aftertaste of
alcohol still in his mouth.
As he sat on top of me like a king sitting atop a throne, I knew
that he had to either still be drunk or be mistaking me for
another girl.
I turned my head to one side to avoid his mouth. Sex between us

had never been a common occurrence. Moreover, I had grown an
aversion to it after finding out that he was cheating on me.
However, he didn‟t take the hint, hovering over me and kissing
my ear as his hands slipped under my pajamas. “Dear...”
Christopher had done this exact same thing to me before, but it
felt gross when Lyle was the one doing it.
I briefly wondered if I had gotten addicted to Christopher as
well. Is the saying that the best way to a girl‟s heart is through
their body true after all?
“It‟s late. We should get some sleep,” I told Lyle with my hands
pressed against his chest in an attempt to push him away.
“Besides, you have work tomorrow morning.”
Without another word, I turned my back to him and pulled the
covers all the way up to my chin.
He didn‟t say anything, flipping over and quickly dozing off.
Was he hoping for this? For me to not return his affections?
Lyle continued to come home late for the next few days. Although
he no longer smelled of alcohol, he didn‟t dare look me in the
eye, just like before.
My love for him had died out a long time ago, and I was getting
ready to divorce him.
Christopher, on the other hand, kept making frequent trips to the
house, calling me “Yvonne” in public and “minx” in bed.
“Did you miss me, little minx?” He appeared in my living room
out of nowhere once again.
Before I even had the time to react, he had already pulled me
into his embrace.
I turned my head slightly to squint at him. “Did you secretly steal
a set of my house keys?” I was sure that I had locked the front
door.
“What do you mean by „steal‟?” He held his key up in the air,
waving it around with an innocent smile. “I‟ve always had one.”

Oh. I had forgotten that when the locks in our house were broken
about half a year ago, Lyle had done nothing to fix the problem.
Instead, Christopher had been the one to go out and find a
locksmith for us.
Does that mean he‟s had our house key for half a year
now? What does he plan to do with it?
“Have you planned on sleeping with me for six months straight?”
I inquired curiously.
His smile faded, replaced by a completely serious expression.
“You were always mine, to begin with.”
I was moved by the statement. However, there was a small voice
in the back of my head, reminding me that men‟s serenades and
praises were not to be fully trusted. In fact, Lyle served as a good
example.
He started laughing like an idiot when I didn‟t reply. “I‟m hungry.
What are we eating today?”
“Caramelized pork.”
Instantly, his expression soured as if recalling the taste of the
awful caramelized pork from before.
“Can we eat something else? Please, Eve?” he whined, nuzzling
his face against the crook of my neck.
Holding back my laughter, I asked, “Why? Did you not like it
when I cooked for you last time?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I loved it,” he forced out.
This time, I couldn‟t stop my laughter from escaping me.