Married To A Slút (2)
After she left, my friend and I went out for dinner and a few beers afterwards, so I didn't get back until late. By the time I got home, Amy still hadn't returned.
That surprised me because the picnic and the tour couldn’t have taken more than a few hours. Maybe Luther lived on the far side of town. Maybe traffic had gotten bad. I tried not to overthink it, though a strange tension sat low in my stomach. I was tired from the move, so I stretched out on the couch and eventually fell asleep waiting for her.
I woke to the sound of the front door opening. I rubbed my eyes and sat up groggily, then froze.
Amy was standing in the doorway.
At first, I didn’t register what I was looking at. Her hair was messy, not just from the wind, but tangled. She was still wearing
