One Word Respond

You ask me if I love you.  How am I supposed to respond?  You show up after two years, no explanation, no apology, just “hey babe, can I sleep on your couch?” You think that curly brown hair, a bad little boy smile, and those washboard abs, well can get you whatever you want. Next thing I know I’m waking up and your toothbrush is hanging in my bathroom, and your stupid favorite brand of coffee is on my counter.  What about next week?  What about a job?

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How long should it take them to respond?  He had been lying here for an hour.  There should be pain – when he looked out of the corner of his eye he could see his ankle.  That ain’t supposed to happen.  He had managed to hit nine-one-one on his cell before he blacked out.  Must of dropped the phone cuz when he came to he was cold but numb and no idea where the phone went.  Guess he shouldn’t have laughed at her.

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She straightened her jacket and checked her teeth in the mirror. The insurance policy application had been simple to forge.  He thought he had it all going on and he would have used her and then taken off again.  She would have been sitting there in that beige second floor studio apartment, no hope of ever getting out.  He would have moved on to someone else and she would have had to start all over again.  She had given him a chance.  He should have thought of a better way to respond.  He should have taken her seriously.