Member-only story
I Know That I Am His Side Chick
A lament from the other woman
It’s been going on for almost ten months, but I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I have my own friends, my own career, my own life, but when I hear him calling, I keep coming back.
He only wants my attention when she’s gone. It’s like clockwork: she’ll go on one of her many business trips, he’ll get lonely, and he’ll come to me. He needs someone to go out with him, someone to make him dinner, someone to cuddle with on the couch.
But as I sit there with his head in my lap, I can’t help but remember that the sofa I sit on and the home he lives in is paid for by those business trips. While she’s pining for him in a lonely Tucson hotel room, he’s lying at home with his body pressed right up to mine, as if he’ll die without physical contact. And I never say no. I’m weak.
While she’s pining for him in a lonely Tucson hotel room, he’s lying at home with his body pressed right up to mine.
Those brown puppy dog eyes look so innocent one moment and so calculated the next. He has these big ears that would look ridiculous on anyone else. And that hair. It was golden blond when he was younger and although it has faded to a pale yellow interspersed with white, it’s as…
