I should apologise, I really should. Two days since I’ve last seen or heard her.

Alright, that settles it: I’m going over now.

Red roses and sparkling wine? Oh man, she’ll melt in my arms. It’s worked before and it’ll work again.

Fool-proof.

Grab this shit outta the car, knock on the door-bell and she’s mine again; All mine.

Wait, what’s that? Moaning? She’s Jilling off; figures.

Creep over to her bedroom window; see what’s up.

Why am I hearing clapping? Why are there two shadows?

Why does one have the other bent over?

...

Why am I tearing up?