*story noises*

~KAREN~

It was a couple months ago when my ex-husband Jared came to my house for a little talk. I had hoped to never seen him again. It's not that I hate him entirely; I don't. He's actually a really nice guy if you have him has a friend. As a lover he was even more so, but then he would get really hard to work with for certain things. It's like taking your best friend and deciding to spend every second with them every day of your life. At least, that's what it felt like that for me. I think that's why I decided to end it; I didn't think I could take it.

But now that we are divorced, I don't want to see him anymore. It's more for a selfish reason: I feel like if I spend too much time with Jared, I'm going to fall in love with him again. And I can't afford that. It didn't work out last time; I don't want to go through it again. So I focus on trying to avoiding him as much as possible or hating him. It's easier.

Anyway, today, I'm trying to keep my mind off of him by reading a random book I found on my bookshelf: Ten Facts About Jojo Siwa. I have no idea who this Jojo Siwa is, but based on the cover, it must be one of my six year old daughter, Crystal's, books. Miss Siwa seems very energetic. Crystal and Billy had already gone to bed since it's 10 p.m., so it's nice to have some alone time before Billy wakes up and starts crying again like the two year old he is. I guess that's the only reason I'm still up, even though I'm really tired (the relaxing, I mean, not the staying up to watch over Billy). I don't want to waste a Friday night; night's the only time I have for me-time. I don't have to do anything for anyone. Usually. It's not like during the day where everything's go-go-go. I can relax.

Someone knocks on the house door.

I put my book down and walk from my bedroom where I was reading, down the stairs, and to the door. I wonder who could be. It's a bit late at night... But then again, it's Friday. Ten o'clock is pretty early for some people. But still, who would knock on a neighborhood house door?

I yawn and open the door.

"Karen!"

I jump back as Jared stumbles through the door wobbly. He's wearing a t-shirt and jeans—pretty normal for him—but his fluffy brown hair is tousled and messy, like he ran through a tornado. It sticks up in random places and almost makes me want to take a comb and fix it—almost. I'll restrain myself for now.

"Jared?" I ask. "Wha..."

He grins at me. Drunkenly. He's drunk, I realize. Of course he is. What did I expect?

"Karen!" he exclaims again. "How are you? You look great!"

"Can you quiet down?" I say closing the door. "The kids are asleep—"

"The kids?" Jared asks, his voice still loud. "Oh! The kids! My kids! I miss them. How are they? Wait, never mind, they're probably great since you're with them, huh? You're a great mom. Do you know that? That you're a great mom? You should. It's what makes you a great person." He giggles. "It's funny because sometimes you try to act really angry. Like right now! Look at you! Your face is all angry! But I know deep down you're a good person. You should know that too! Because you are!"

I stare at him, my eyebrows scrunched. Where the heck did all this sappy stuff come from? Is that really what he thinks? Does he have any idea what he's saying? He must not. I hope not. I hope he's black-out drunk so he won't have any idea later, either. It's so unlike him. Or at least, unlike the person I tried to separate myself from for the past couple of months. It's going to be hard to be angry with him if he actually thinks those things about me.

"Oh, shut up," I say pushing him over to the couch in the living room. "Take a seat."

"Can I sit next to you?" Jared asks, still grinning.