Free The Watcher by Rhiannon Jean

numb to his rejection? Or was it because I might have met someone who actually wanted my time? Maybe a little bit of both. 
    It suddenly occurred to me that if Ryan never came back to our apartment again, I might actually like that. I would have quiet when I wanted. The magnitude of day-to-day chores would lessen. The fighting would stop. Had meeting Gabriel made all of these thoughts come to mind? I mean, here I was, dressing up for a man who wasn’t my husband, taking great care with my make-up, and I was completely at peace. I shook my head, telling myself again that I’d think about all this later. For now I wanted to make sure I looked amazing.
    After a quick shower, I straightened my hair, making sure to get all the frizz out. My bangs often had a mind of their own. Next, I began the process of applying my face when What The Hell by Avril Lavigne came on. YES! This was my personal anthem for the night. I was still young, still vibrant, and I needed some fun. I had never been to The Secret Word before, but I had heard all about it from Emma. It was almost always packed, a line around the building type of packed. I was so glad Gabriel had promised to save me a seat. I didn’t know if I was going to fit in. If it was always packed, I wondered what type of crowd it attracted. I really hoped it wasn’t starving artist hipsters drinking Blue Moon and vodka-Redbulls…ugh.
    I finished my foundation and started applying my favorite nude eye shadow. I loved to do my eyes up like Kat Denning in Two Broke Girls , minus the fake lashes. I had tried applying those all of once, and I ended up gluing my eyelids together. It wasn’t pretty. After the two shades of eyeshadow were on, I began the very stressful process of the cat-eye eyeliner. Something most people didn’t know about me was that I’m legally blind in my left eye. Putting on makeup was a daily challenge. Putting on a cat-eye was challenge level “Manolo Blahnik.” Just Dance by Lady Gaga started playing and I focused on the perfect swoop on each eye, trying not to sway my hips. I love Lady Gaga. I know she’s an acquired taste for most people, but she’s amazing. She’s not afraid to be herself, she’s played around with fashion and art and music, and she sticks up for anyone who’s been bullied. As a victim of bullying myself, I admired that in her.
    Eyeliner complete! Victory! It was mostly even. I pulled out my brand new red lipstick that screamed ‘look at me!’ I secretly hoped it screamed ‘kiss me!’ as well.  Was that wrong? Maybe. I was still married, no matter how many hours of “overtime” he worked. I wouldn’t stoop to his level, but I was so curious about Gabriel’s lips and how it might feel to kiss him. It might be time that I went out on my own and take some of my student loan money to find a cute little studio for the fur-balls and myself. The more I thought about that, the more determined I was to start perusing Craigslist tomorrow morning. It was decision time, and I needed to look out for myself.
    I took one final look in the mirror and smiled. Wow, I was a knockout! It was 9 p.m. and I needed to get dressed and head out to the club. I put on the outfit from Bombshell, spritzed on some perfume, and grabbed my wallet and keys. Whenever I went out to a club, I refused to carry a purse. Inevitably I’d leave it under a table somewhere, never to be seen again. I instead carried a small silver cigarette case I had picked up at a street fair years ago. I transferred my ID, debit card, cash and insurance card into the silver case, grabbed my phone off the charger, and kissed the fur-balls goodbye.
    Once in the car, I needed to calm down a little, so I turned on some Christina Perri Burning Gold . ‘ I need to do karaoke soon ’, I thought. I wonder if Gabriel does karaoke. Most people think I’m a dork for loving karaoke bars, but I didn’t care. There was nothing like taking shots and singing your heart out to a crowd who