Forgiveness

Her eyes were unforgiving,
Staring at him as though he were a fungus growing beneath the toenail of a rotting corpse.

Her stare seemed to drill into him,
Unspoken resentment infecting the blood running through his veins.

Her clenched fists balled at her sides warned him to stay afar,
To stay in his place, and not invade hers.

The tears she had cried just mere hours ago were drying now in sticky glistening pools along her cheeks.

Her initial sadness and sorrow at his guilty confessions had now reincarnated itself as hatred.

How many women had he taken to bed while she thought he had been working late? He didn't give her a second thought when his fingers were lacing their way up the backside of a strange bar maid, a different one every night.

Why now had he decided to wash his sins away? Guilty pleasures had been an ongoing thing he loved to partake in, so why now did he suddenly beg her forgiveness?

Pouring a cup of coffee, the pot shook in her hand as the sun showed first light on her broken heart.

She left the freshly poured cup of coffee on the counter and walked out the front door,
Leaving him with the consequences of his actions.

He sat in the dark kitchen with his head hanging down to the ground for days, as if waiting for the forgiveness she would never give to him.