It would be a lie to say that Sally didn’t let out a sigh of relief when upon coming home she realised Michael had already gone to work. She immediately headed for the bathroom, catching a glimpse of herself in a mirror in the corridor. The sight startled her, and she paused, looking at it a while. Was she really kissed looking like this? Did someone willingly made breakfast for her in the very state she’s in and not even suggested she headed for a bathroom, or pityingly offered her a hairbrush? Could someone honestly look at her in the accepting, want-stricken way Jack did? What a stupid boy, she thought, a grin spreading across her face.

In the bathroom Sally’s emotions took a new turn. She turned the taps on and undressed, examining her body in the process. It was exactly the same. Nothing changed. It was the same flesh as before. If her tongue didn’t betray her, her body wouldn’t either. Sally stepped into the soapy water. Then again, she contemplated; last night wasn’t some sort of breaking point. She went further than ever before, that was true, but she kissed Jack before the party. And even before that. Before she really knew him at all, she had already given up on Michael. Yes, it was that awful night. As soon as she saw Amy, alone, upset and hurt, that was when she signed her heart off to whoever else would have it. Anyone but him. She smiled bitterly reflecting on last night’s dinner. He didn’t want it anyway. She knew what was going on. Sally was always going to be the consolation prize. Over 7 years down the line and Michael was still bitter about giving up his fight for Arlene. But today Sally didn’t feel sorry for him. Usually when thinking about such matters Sally accepted her fate dutifully. She felt sorry for Michael all these years and felt she mastered the art of comforting and understanding. After all Michael couldn’t help it, and Sally always naively thought he could love Sally in a different way. There would be room in his heart for two because his and Sally’s love was something different entirely. But finally Sally knew: this wasn’t the love she wanted. She wanted to be adored, admired. To consume a lover’s heart, mind and soul. Not to be his pretty wife. Well what would she do about that? Now she was married. She smirked a bitter smile. She would do what she always did: make do. But in an entirely new way.


“Hi Michael, it’s just me. Are you busy?” Sally asked in her sweetest tone.

“Oh hey Sally, no not at all.” 

“I was just calling to say I’m back home now.”

“Okay. Good.”

“I suppose when you get home there are some things we need to discuss.”

“Really? Like what Sally?”

Michael's ignorant reply left Sally surprised. “Last night.”

“I don’t think we need to talk about it.”

Sally didn't respond. Did he just not care or was this his attempt at wiping the slate clean? Sally remembered herself. Michael didn't know anything. As far as he knew the only wrong doings were his. So this really was just a way to get away with belittling her in front of Richard and Arlene. 

“Are you there?” He asked after a while

“Yes. Is that really what you think?”

“What’s happened has happened. It doesn’t matter now.”


“Sal, listen to me. It was one drink. Don’t go on about it forever. It doesn’t matter, and it won’t happen again. Don’t worry about me.”

“I’m not.” Sally decided to take a note of Arlene's behaviour. She was Michael's dream girl afterall wasn't she? And still he didn't even seem to realise it wasn't the drinking that hurt her the most, it was his disregard of her. 

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