Threesome

I walked into your kitchen after 4 weeks apart due to work and clashing schedules. There she was. Staring back at me with a grin on her face from a cutesy wooden framed polaroid that you’d delicately propped up next to the wax burner she’d also presumably bought. “D— & A— 2013’’ inscribed on the bottom. I froze as I looked at your young teenage faces brimming with joy. I should have walked out right then. But I didn’t. I strapped on my best doormat outfit, watched a movie, laughed, chatted, made all the right moves, and then left in the morning so you could go to work. I didn’t ask any questions. I didn’t ask, are you still in love with her? Because I think I already knew the answer. A month and a half ago you invited me into a bed that wasn’t quite cold yet. You told me, don’t worry she’s not coming back. You lovebombed me. Then revealed you weren’t ready for us to be ‘together’ formally. You said you weren’t one to fuck around and didn’t want to be another dickhead that used me like the rest. But this is worse than being used for sex. I never stood a chance. There’s three of us in that bed, so why haven’t I left it and you yet?