Restriction

- -  - - Two years ago, when I had just gotten married, I would wake up to breakfast in bed. . . And kisses all over my face. The smell of my husband's cologne, along with his little damp hair would tickle my nose as he cooed me awake. I would smile. . . perhaps even giggle and greet him good morning while gracing him with a kiss. I was happy. We were happy. Two years later and I wake up to a cold empty bed, and my husband comes home smelling like liquor. The intimacy we once shared was gone, and the only touch I would get was him brushing against me during the nights where the alcohol had him too far gone, and he needed me to fulfill his needs. I loved Henry, my husband. I still do. So much. We were high school sweethearts, married young and it was supposed to be a success story after that. But I can only presume that my worst fear is coming true, and our marriage will cease to exist a year from now, and even that is a lot of time.  Often times I found myself daydreaming about what we used to be, what we're supposed to be. I can't figure out the last time we ate dinner together, and if we attend functions, I'd savor it cause that's the only time he would allow me his affection. Even if it was only pretense.  We weren't billionaires, nor were we millionaires but we earned a decent living, and as a lawyer, he had a status to uphold. So unfortunately for him, and fortunately for me, infidelity would mean scandal. Although it never stopped lots of married men before, I can only hope that my husband does not seek comfort and satisfaction in the arms of another woman. Sliding my feet of the satin sheets, I stretch before standing and heading over to the bathroom and taking care of hygiene. My flawless dark skin glowed in the bathroom mirror, and my hair was braided so I didn't have to do much except lay my edges. Dark brown eyes stared back at me, as well as fully developed curves and plump lips. I was beautiful, no doubt.  I pulled on a pantsuit, before grabbing my handbag and checking my phone.  "Okay Google, what do I have scheduled for today?" - - - "Mrs. Montigo, Jefferey would like to speak to you."  "Really Ben? It's so early what does he want now?" I sigh. Ben was my assistant, being head of the human resources department could get hefty sometimes, and he was a great help.  "I don't know, he sounded pretty impatient though, so I would suggest that you get going." "Fine fine." I stand and head over to my boss's office. Pushing the door open I come to stand before the 5'5, chubby yet intimidating man with a bald spot.  "Good morning sir, how are you this fine morning?" I offer him a smile but he, as usual, never returns it.  "I'm terrible Cooper. Just terrible." "And why is that?" "My son is coming to visit, and you know what his mother does? She forces me to give him a job here!" "But... It's your son. .shouldn't you-" "Oh you'll meet him, and then you'll understand," I frown. "He'll be your responsibility when he arrives, I'm just letting you know." "Mine? Why me?" "Because that's your job, to hire, fire, manage and train," he tilts his head. "Although I highly doubt he'll listen to anything you say, that boy is a pain in the rear." "Mr. Shear, I-" "Now carry on, I'm sure you have a lot more work to do, he'll be here tomorrow at 8 am sharp. You're never late so I don't think I have to scold you on being punctual." Sighing in my head, I give him a curt nod. "Enjoy the rest of the day Mr. Shear." "You as well Cooper." I retreat to my office and drop my head in my palms. I've trained people before but not exactly in depth, there were actual trained people whose job were to train people. I don't understand why Jeffery would want me to do that.  His son sounds like one of those hard-headed, nonchalant people who doesn't care about anything as long as their living life.  That will surely not sit well with me, I'm the complete opposite. I enjoy being organized and punctual. I enjoy knowing what my next step is, and lastly, I enjoy order, no chaos. Biting my lip, I dial Henry's number just to check if he was okay, but to my dismay, it goes straight to voicemail. "This is Mr. Monitgo please leave a message." "Hey... Honey, I'm just calling to check up on you, didn't see you this morning. . . Um... Call me back when you get this, I love you." After a moment of hesitation, I dropped the phone and tugged gently at the ends of my braids. I felt pathetic.  In order to drain this feeling, I got turned in my chair and began getting work done, and soon enough my troubles were forgotten.