Feelings Are Bullshit

The envelop on his desk was unexpected. Absent-mindedly he opened it, sending a chill down his spine.

A month since they argued. What was it about? He couldn’t recall. She said something in that tone. He slammed. She threw. He yelled. Threw something else.

“Bullshit,” he stammered. She stormed out. Where? He didn’t ask.

A few days passed. They made up. She decked out in a killer pair of heels and form-fitting dress. There was a dinner out, then make up sex. All was healed.

And now, this bill. His face flushed. He knew how she’d felt.

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