She sits there, waiting. Her heart yearning for him to come. He rarely does. She knows he is with another; laughing, touching. She lights another cigarette. She remembers being here before, loving someone who loved another. Why is she putting herself through this again she wonders to herself.
The sound of the noisy city outside bring no relief from her loneliness. She reaches for the phone again. Again the call goes to voicemail. Busy with his happiness, a happiness she herself is denied. The cigarette ash falls to the floor, unnoticed. Sitting back in the armchair, she looks around the dimly lit room and remembers the happy times. A time when he loved only her.
She walks across the smoke filled room and turns off the small desk-top lamp. The room is in darkness but for the patchwork of shadows cast by the light from the brightly lit city. She puts the glass to her lips and finishes the drink that she had found to be a good friend. Without a sound she leaves the room, closing the door behind her.
A phone rings in an empty room, next to it sits an empty glass.
This story was inspired by watching episodes from Sex and the City; its about Carrie and Mr. Big's relationship problems.
