CHAPTER TWO.

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(Eric's Pov)

Saturday mornings. Everyone loves them, right? 

You work a hard, tiring week at work and finally get your two days to relax.

Who wouldn't love them?

Oh, yeah. That's right - me.

I sighed, pushing off the comforter and stepped out of my bed. My feet slipped into their soft, Italian made slippers. I brushed a hand through my messy hair as I made my way into the bathroom.

My usual morning routine took place. I stripped from my shirt and checkered pajama pants. I showered first, before using the toilet and brushing my teeth. When I finished, I stepped back inside of my bedroom, a white towel still wrapped around my waist.

I pulled out a freshly ironed, purple, dress shirt. I paired it with dress pants. My hands flicked through my wet blonde hair, reminding myself I needed to trim it. I ran a comb through my hair, slicking it back.

I did a quick glance over my outfit, before making my way downstairs, not bothering to put on some shoes or socks. When I entered the kitchen, I was met with the all too familiar aroma of a freshly made omelette.

"Good morning, E." Janice chirped, showing off her white teeth.

Here we go.

"Morning." I mumbled in return. I sat down at the table, awaiting my breakfast to be served. The plate of a Spanish omelette was placed in-front of me. I felt a kiss being placed on my cheek and I swallowed, ignoring it.

"Is that all, Mrs Miller?" The poor maid, Josey, asked Janice. She crossed her arms over her chest, reminding me of her newly fake boob job. She looked back at Josey with a scrunched up nose and pursed lips.

"Yes, Josey. You're free to go and remember, shower next time you arrive here. I don't want any smelly aromas lingering around in the air." She told her. Josey nodded, gulping as she left the room. Janice let out a 'tut' before turning to face me.

"Some people these days." She muttered, taking the seat across from me. On her plate was a fresh stack of crepes. I honestly didn't understand Janice. She wouldn't eat pancakes, because she said they were fattening. But she ate crepes. 

They were basically the same thing.

"So, how was your sleep?" She asked, taking a bite from her crepe. I cleared my throat, not wanting to speak to her. Our conversations were always lifeless, boring and always about her.

You can't blame me once you hear her speak.

"Good." I flatly replied, finishing up my food. The rest of breakfast, I could feel her eyes boring into me, and when I looked up, she smiled. I finished with my breakfast and headed up stairs, not bothering to tell Janice where I was going and what to do.

She already knew, and I could tell it affected her.

I entered my room and searched through my drawers, landing on the familiar pill bottle. I grimaced, looking at the sign. I didn't even want to read it aloud. I popped out two, and swallowed them down, drinking the fresh glass of water placed beside it for me.

When I swallowed it, I laid down on my freshly made bed. Done by one of the maid's Janice insisted on hiring. I let out a breath, awaiting the effect from the pill.

Depressed.

Four years ago, I was labeled the word - depressed.

One year, I spent my life trying to embrace the new change. I tried my hardest to try gain feelings for Janice, see her as a wife - but failed, terribly.

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