04

4

In the bedroom, Dashiell's bag from today was still tossed on the vanity, not yet tidied up.

It was bulging, with a small transparent bottle peeking out.

That kind of bottle made my heart skip a beat.

It was actually a bottle of lube.

And it had been used.

Dashiell and I had never done it outside, so I certainly hadn't used this lube.

Holding this bottle of lube, I was inexplicably compelled to find some super glue and squeeze it in.

Dashiell, the real joke is on you, you cheating bastard.