You laid on the bed, sighing. Your eyes moved around the hotel room, and for a moment - you realized how lonely it was. Your husband, Michael, was performing - and the only reason that you didn't attend, was because you were ill. Now, before Michael had left, the two of you had argued.
The argument was about how the two of you hardly ever had time together, even when you were travelling with him. It was absurd. You didn't think that a couple could be so distant with each other. The truth was, Michael and yourself were growing apart - and you wanted to stop moving farther away from him.
The blankets covered you as you watched television. Despite the fact that your eyes were distracted, your mind was occupied with the thought of your husband. You loved him dearly, and you didn't want to lose him.
You glanced at your wrist watch, and noted that it was fifteen minutes after midnight. Michael was to return to the hotel room any minute now.
As if on cue, the door opened - and your husband walked in. Michael looked drained and tired, as he always did after a performance. He shut the door and turned around to face you. You grabbed the remote and turned off the television - directing your full attention to him.
He stared at you. A moment passed before he used his face towel to wipe the sweat off of his forehead. Once he was done, he tossed the towel to the floor.
"So," he raised his eyebrows. "You've been watching television. I thought you were ill," he remarked with a sour tone.
You scoffed, tossing the blanket aside before getting up from the bed. Your head was dizzy, but you managed to keep yourself upright.
"I am," you laughed a little. "But that doesn't mean that I can't watch television," you paused for a moment. "Or are you now controlling my movements?" you raised an eyebrow, your voice oozing with sarcasm.
"I'd rather not," he muttered under his breath. "But then again, who am I to argue?" he scoffed.
The two of you stood there in silence, making you groan slightly.
"Michael, can we talk like adults?" you brought your fingers to pinch the bridge of your nose.
Michael shook his head and walked over to the bathroom door.
"If you don't want to talk, feel free to leave," he pointed to the main door before entering the bathroom. Once he had shut the bathroom door - you walked out of the room, tears in your eyes.
How had Michael and you become so distant? Where was the communication that you had promised each other on your wedding day?
Was everything really falling apart?
An hour had passed since you had left the hotel. At present moment, you were standing at a bridge - overlooking the waters below. A sad smile was painted on your face as you remembered that Michael and you shared your first kiss atop a bridge. You remember it to be the most romantic gesture on the face of the earth.
Before the two of you grew apart. You leaned over and continued to observe the waters before a pair of footsteps could be heard, approaching from behind. You straightened up, and turned around - only to see the man you least expected to see.
He had a solemn look on his face, and his hands were shoved into the pockets of his pants. When his eyes met yours, you began to tear up.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I know that I haven't been the person that you need me to be lately," he shook his head. "It's just that...work is stressful, and for a moment - I lost sight of what's important," he bit his lip.
You studied him, smiling a little. He was still the most handsome man on the face of the earth - to you, at least.
"I screwed up too," you let out a small laugh. "I've had a horrible attitude,"
"No," Michael took a step toward you, setting his hands on your waist. "This is all my fault. Will you forgive me?" he broke into a small grin.
You laughed and placed your arms around his neck.
"Only if you'll forgive me," you kissed his cheek.
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