The Merry Pranked Read Online Free

hadn’t bothered researching, that he kept by the door. It seemed frivolous that he was using it as such, but also rebellious in its own way; a little fuck you to the world of antiques and those who took them too seriously. He took a second to put down his laptop bag. The whole time he could feel her anger cutting into him, her stare intense and demanding.
    “So, how is everyone?” he asked. That should do it, he thought.
    “Fuck you, Leslie,” said Donna, standing up. “I’m tired of your bullshit. Tired of it all.”
    He just looked at her, saying nothing. This was what he expected; what he had, in his own indifferent way, orchestrated. He knew his part well; it wasn’t to contribute, but to take what was rightfully being dished out. The only problem with that, as in the past, the less he said only seemed to make her angrier.
    “That’s it. It’s over,” she said, as she made her way to the front door. Leslie just watched her. He’d expected more, but then again, he knew Donna; she was a class act; she was emotional but wouldn’t get as emotional as some of the women he’d known in the past.
    She hesitated at the door, her hand on the doorknob. He remained quiet, waiting. Donna turned to face him. “I’d say have a nice life, but with you, that just isn’t possible, is it?” she said. “I guess what I really want to say is...”
    Leslie continued watching her, silently. He didn’t want to interfere. This would be a cathartic moment for her, and he figured he at least owed her that.
    “...damn you. Just go to hell, Leslie.”
    Donna opened the door and left, surprisingly not slamming it behind her; she was a class act. Leslie made his way over to the mid-century English Cocktail Trolley he’d purchased with the help of another lover, although at the moment her name escaped him, and poured himself a Macallan Highland Scotch Single Malt, neat; to his mind, comfort food. He knew he should chase after Donna and apologize; she’d paid her dues, spending more than a year with him – his longest relationship with a woman in a long time – but he wouldn’t.
    He took a sip of his scotch.
    Donna was smart and patient. She’d been the first woman in a long time who actually called him on his shit. All those little games he played – couldn’t help playing – she saw through it all; and, for a little while that had been good for him. But what is it they say about an addict? They often had to hit rock bottom before they’re truly ready to change their ways. Some probably hit rock bottom and rode their demons straight to hell, he figured, never making any excuses for their flaws. If Donna, who had made an effort couldn’t get through to him, chances are he’d unknowingly bought a one way ticket to the cellar.
    He’d made a conscious decision to be late tonight. She’d been right; there was very rarely any breaking news in the world of entertainment. It was a pretty straight forward gig. Donna had planned a dinner with some important people in her life, co-workers he believed, and had made him promise he’d attend. She’d also given him more than ample notice just to make sure he didn’t make any plans or could come up with any excuses. Even as he sat in his office working on his latest novel, he knew exactly what he was doing – knew he was letting her down, yet again. The funny thing was - or was it the saddest thing - he didn’t care.
    Things had been getting a little too serious for comfort. After a year of being a committed couple, Donna shouldn’t have expected less. What she didn’t know was she was asking too much of him. He had hit his threshold. So he had skipped the dinner aware there’d be fallout and it’d be the straw that broke the camel’s back. He’d seen it before with other women, and had actually known then when it was coming. Donna had been different. It’d taken several straws to break her back, but he had finally achieved that goal.
    Some of us just aren’t cut out for