I shouldn’t do this. It’s not right. Cheating is cheating, Rose thought as she lay in bed next to her fiancé who was snoring lightly.
In the muted light of the bedroom she studied his face, hoping that something in that handsome face would dissuade her, but he continued to snore lightly, his mouth agape. Rose was not happy at having to keep up this pretense; her late night trysts left her so very uneasy.
Why do I always do this knowing that tomorrow I will have this guilt to deal with? Think of your big day Rosie. Isn’t that worth it?
She continued to lie there, quite sure of what would happen next. She knew that she would leave her fiancé’s side, walk down the hall and do something she would regret as soon as it was over. She delayed briefly only to lament the cyclical nature of it all and her helplessness in ending it.
When the digital clock at the bedside read 2:23 am, Rose slowly got off the bed.
She hurried down the hall, a sense of urgency and excitement nipping at her heels.
She opened the door, peered into the refrigerator and found the towering chocolate cake her fiancé had brought in that afternoon. He’d had one slice; she’d pretended she wasn’t hungry and had declined his invitation to partake. But the cake stood before her tall, dark and layered, haloed by the refrigerator’s light. Rose didn’t have to pretend anymore.
Rosie reached for the cake. Her wedding was two weeks away and her wedding gown was still unable to accommodate her hips. She knew that she should turn and walk away, but she knew that she would not.