Husband Love Story

Storytime: Part 2

{Read Part 1 here.}
I froze.  Frantic thoughts raced through my head, “Oh my gosh.  Mr. BUB & P are sitting in my living room.  Oh my gosh, I’m wearing a towel.  Oh my gosh, there’s mascara running down my face!
I think I actually muttered the words “Oh my gosh” as I quickly moved towards my bedroom.  Once inside, I locked the door and silently cursed.  Then I decided I would never talk to either of them again.  Not that “Oh my gosh” was really a conversation.  There was just no coming back from that embarrassing moment.
I waited until I was sure they’d left before I made my way to class that morning.  And I tried to put the memory, and my burning cheeks, behind me.
A couple days later, I got back to the apartment after work.  I walked past my roommate’s bedroom, and there they are again.  “At least I’m clothed this time,” I sighed.  As I tried to sneak past, my roommate called me to the room to formally introduce me and the basketball stars.  I quickly said my hellos and retreated to my room.
Later, the roommate found me and asked, “Did you know Mr. BUB broke his face?!”
“He broke his what?!”
“His face!  They had to completely rebuild it last fall!”
“What did he look like before?!”
“Pretty much the same.  But isn’t it crazy?”
The conversation ended and I spent the evening perplexed by the broken face story, yet still committed to my vow to never speak to him again.
to be continued…
heathersig