I laugh when I see you reject my drink for the third time in a row, giving me a threatening look and continuing your conversation with that man whose face I wouldn't mind punching right now.

I shouldn't be jealous, I shouldn't even feel bad about not having your attention. We've been separated for a year, in divorce proceedings, although that hasn't stopped us from seeing each other from time to time to remind ourselves why we got married. But it didn't work out, like many things in my life, and now you're seeing other men. Well, I refuse.

Sorry if I'm an arrogant asshole, but I don't want to lose the woman of my life just because we were having a bad time.

I get up from my spot at the bar and head over to the table where you're sitting with Mr. in a suit. Without warning, I sit down next to you and put an arm around your shoulders.

"Hey, honey, have you been waiting a long time?" I place a kiss on your cheek and then look at your date. "Hey, I'm Harry, her husband." I extend my hand to introduce myself, and you dig your nails into my leg under the table. Damn, I miss you so much.