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Chapter 9
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10:37 AM SATURDAY
Well, that didn’t go like I wanted it to.
I turn away from the door to the suite and begin my long, cumbersome walk of shame—naked. Fucking naked. Sammi didn’t even let me grab my pants.
Do I really care right now? Nah, not really.
The love of my life just so happened to forget she married me. Nudity isn’t even nearly as hard a pill to swallow. It doesn’t help that I’m more than a bit hungover, if I’m being honest here.
I press the button for the elevator and put my hands on my hips.
“Bright side: she at least knows something happened this time ‘round,” I say to my reflection in the elevator doors. There were damn too many witnesses to deny it.
I hear aDINGand pull my hands back to my side, ready to step in. When the doors open up, I’m greeted by two old ladies and what appears to be a young married couple, most likely in their early twenties.
“Mornin’, folks.”
I give them a nod and step inside. The button for the lobby has already been pressed so I just turn around and face the door, trying to figure out where exactly I went wrong.
Which isn’t hard. I just shouldn’t have gone with all of this with Sammi being so drunk. Time and time again, she’s always had the same result in the morning.
So why would this time be different?
I can hear the couple behind me whispering an argument. My impeccable people watching skills come into play, and I deduce that the woman doesn’t need her husband to cover her eyes for her and that she knows better than to look.
Meanwhile, the pair of older ladies flanking me are not so subtle and are giggling like teenage school girls seeing a naked man for the first time.
I’m not going to lie; it feels good. At least some people are appreciating me—even if they are strangers.
…I might be just a little bent out of shape.
I give the two older gals a wink and flex my pecks for them. The one to the left of me is grabbing her inhaler, while the one on the right is giving the married woman behind us a thumbs-up—and likely checking out my arse, too. I can’t blame her. It’s firm, shapely, and smooth as a baby’s bum.
Once we reach the ground floor, the doors open to the lobby, and I stroll out without a second thought of those around me.
I turn my walk of shame into a strut of confidence, which only makes me cockier about knowing how much better I am than Eggbert. He would never handle something like this so well.ThatI know for a fact.
Some of the onlookers are undoubtedly enjoying the show. Others—mostly husbands trying to cover their wives’ eyes—not so much. And then some look like they’re about to rush off to the nearest gym and hit the weights.
I should enjoy this moment to the fullest. I’m debonair, attractive, articulate…
Yet crushed by the woman I love.
Yet left wondering just why I keep doing this to myself.
It’s the same thing year after year. I know things aren’t going to be any different, and I still do it.
I hit the streets, and there’s a wave of heat and humidity that hits me like a fucking kick from a kangaroo.
I’m an Aussie. I can handle the heat, the sun, and the humidity. That’s not a fucking problem.
But in Bangkok, it’s like an entirely different beast. And there’s the pungency in the air, but let’s not go into that too much.
I head down by the Chao Phraya River. Maybe I’ll get a nice breeze off the wate—
