I watch the jeep come to a stop. He steps out and all my synapses fire. I need him like a bird needs air.
A petite brunette opens the door. With a little make up she could probably pass off as pretty, but she is no match for him. Yet his face lights up as they reach for one another.
This is the reason he is always in such a hurry to leave.
The door shuts like a slap across my face.
‘The Emersons‘, the name plate reads.
He’s married, my brain warns me. Does it matter, jeers the green monster.
In response to Bikurgurl’s 100 Word Wednesday: Week 38 photo challenge