Locked on the Balcony While He Cheats
On Christmas Eve, I giddily wait for my husband, Hunter Gibson, to come home while nursing my eight-month pregnancy.
Unexpectedly, Hunter bursts through the front door with his childhood friend, Winter Jones, in his arms.
I attempt to help him out, only to get shoved to the floor instead. My belly bumps into a corner of the coffee table, causing pain to shoot up my nerves. Cold sweat soon beads on my forehead, and yet Hunter doesn't even spare me another glance.
"Get out of my way! Someone drugged Winnie's drink at the bar! If I don't purge the poison out of her, she'll die!"
As I shield my belly, I dig out my phone. "I'll call an ambulance for her—"
But Hunter snatches my phone away before hurling it at the floor, breaking it into splinters. Then, he grabs me by the neck angrily.
"Are you trying to ruin Winnie's reputation? If word gets out, how is she going to live with her head hung high?"
In order to prevent me from "ruining his plan", Hunter decides to trap me on the balcony while disregarding my pleas and the fact that I'm only wearing thin pajamas.
"You should take some time to cool off! Once you've finally learned your lesson, you're only permitted entry!"
I can only slam my palms onto the glass door desperately with tears running down my face. There, I'm forced to watch as Hunter and Winter go at it like desperate rabbits on the carpet in the living room, with the Christmas songs serving as their ambiance.
A heavy snowfall has occurred that night.
At the crack of dawn the next morning, Hunter finally remembers that I exist. He calls my number, yet my phone was turned off.
Furious, Hunter yells, "Where the hell did you go? Winnie's stomach is in discomfort! Get your ass back here right now and cook her some soup!"
What he doesn't know is that I'm right outside the balcony door. The thing is, dead people are incapable of answering phone calls, not to mention Hunter has already broken my phone, to begin with.