'More shots!' Crowed Nate as I made a face. He smacked the table with excitement as the glasses shook and threatened to fall. I watched in horror as Karen made a grab for them, shooting a glare in Nates direction.
'Someone needs to remind Nate we are in our late thirties. He behaves like a college boy Lydia.' She chided as she looked at me sadly. I turned my gaze to that of my husband, who was currently at the bar chatting animatedly with a young blonde thing as he waved his fifty dollar bill in the air. I sighed as I shrugged, knowing full well it was too late in the day for this conversation. Karen watched me carefully as she pointed at me.
'You are fucking gorgeous. He doesn't deserve you.'
'Karen-' I began as she held up her hand.
'I know. You love him. But I'll tell you this- I've been where you are now, luckily not married though, and it stinks more than a festival toilet. You deserve to be in love, feel passion, be adored.'
I watched as Nate weaved his way through the throng of people at the bar, his boyish features lit up by a grin as he pushed the shot glasses onto the table. Karen pursed her lips as he handed her one, knocking two back before remembering me. He pushed one towards me, his eyes glassy and wide with the effects of too much alcohol. I downed the shot, feeling my throat burning as it made its way down my throat as my eyes met Nates.
He was still as attractive as when I first met him, his deep green eyes framed by thick lashes, the stubble on his face that he always kept the same length no matter what. His hair was still dark blonde, but already flecks of grey were beginning to show. But inside he was different.
Later that night I laid in bed as he snored beside me, oblivious to the fact I had stripped him down, helped him be sick and helped carry him to bed. My limbs ached as I laid there, Karen's words spinning around in my head like a carousel, refusing to quieten down. I felt him shift beside me as his hand caressed my ass softly, stirring him from his slumber.
I pretended to be asleep, keeping my legs firmly together as he sighed, rolling back over in defeat. I loved him, but Karen was right.
I wasn't in love with him. Not anymore.