31 Days

It was always a large trek up a flight of stairs that got me the most. Don't get me wrong, I am quite fit, but no normal person likes to climb three flights of stairs to get to their own apartment on a near regular basis.

It also hadn't helped that I was gone for two weeks on what was suppose to be a month's mission out at sea. A carrier is what the local residents call me... Someone who transports goods from one island to the next. Not exactly the most ideal career but it keeps the bills paid and the girlfriend happy.

My breath was next to gone by the time I wedged the key into the door and unceremoniously dumped my duffle and backpack onto the ground. Peering into the fridge it became quite apparent that Renee hadn't gone grocery shopping anytime in the past two weeks, as I pulled the out of date bottle of milk from the fridge and dropped it into the recycle bin. Then with one large arm swipe the cluttered mess of numerous alcohol bottles fell in a heap amongst the rest of the rubbish. I set it aside to be emptied later tonight and filled a glass with water straight from the tap.

The apartment had a musky smell to it, kind of like what the dirty washing basket would smell like after a week of sitting unclean. It also doesn't help that the temperature was well into the 40's and blistering hot. After gulping down the glass of water I rinsed it and placed the glass on the rack to dry, noting that all the dishes seemed to be done regardless of the apartments state.

That was one thing, I guess.

It took less then four large strides to make my way to the window and crack it open to let the fresh night air in, then one by one I grabbed the dirty clothes laying around. It took a red dress and a piece of black laced boy-shorts to realise that I hadn't seen these before, and another black lace bra to realise that this bra was much smaller than Renee's usual choice.

Making my way into the bedroom, I shoved the clothes into the dirty hamper and noticing the balcony door had been open I quickly made my way over to it.

I, however, wasn't prepared at all for what stood behind it.

*************

'She did what?!' Keeley, my closest friend of eight years stuttered through the speaker.

"She was cheating on me," I frowned, I was in my car now, sitting in the carpark of the local McDonalds munching down on some heartbreak fries with extra salt. How manly.

'Where are you?' She asked. I could hear her mother in the background asking what was wrong, and with a reply I couldn't make clear of Keeley spoke again. 'Look, text me where you are and I'll come to you.'

Again I could hear her mothers voice in the background, only this time it was too quiet to understand.

'I have to Ma.' Keeley spoke. 'Hey, can you meet me at the Old Brooklyn farm?'

"Ah," I swallowed thickly. "Yeah, yeah I can meet you there."

'Okay,' and with a thoughtful sigh, 'I'll be there within the hour, and Bryon?'

"Yeah?"

'Everything will be okay.'

I wasn't so sure.