"Arthur, if you're looking for excuses, at least make them more convincing. Quit stalling! Hurry up and get ready. I'll just pack my things while I'm at it."
Before I knew it, she was shoving me toward the bathroom.
She genuinely seemed eager to wrap things up.
Trying to steady myself for the day ahead, I reached for a painkiller from the medicine cabinet.
Maybe it would relieve some of the discomfort.
On my way to the kitchen to grab some water, I caught sight of Ariana's open suitcase, and my heart sank.
Among her clothes, a few packages lay unopened, all addressed to her. My eyes narrowed, and I could hardly believe what I saw is a lacy black nightie, sultry and scandalous.
Ariana had never worn anything like that around me in our years together.
Back then, I'd teased her for being so conservative.
Ariana'd said with a dismissive wave, "You know me, I'm not the risqué type."
I thought, "So who exactly is she planning to impress with that little outfit? Marvin?"
Emerging from the bedroom, she clutched an armful of her clothes, her gaze catching mine as I stared at the suitcase in shock.
She quickly followed my line of sight, panic flashing across her face.