Out In The Cold

Short Story by Denise McCabe

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It was quiet when I opened the door. I had left the light on in the living room as I always do; I hate walking into a dark house, especially late at night. And this was way past my usual bedtime. I had just come from another bridal shower, another attempt to perpetuate the myth of happily ever after. I’d fallen once under that spell, stayed there longer than I should have, and gotten out just in time.

I kicked off my shoes and lined them up neatly near the front door, then locked the top and bottom locks. I was tired but past the point of sleep. What I needed was a hot bath and some TV to help me relax. It was a little chilly, so I went to turn up the thermostat, then decided to make myself a cup of hot milk and honey. I went to the kitchen and flicked on the light, and there was Harvey, seated at the kitchen table, looking serious and somewhat drunk.