There But For The Grace Of


He sends her naked shots of himself in various poses. 
A cowboy hat. 
A duck faced selfie. 
Three day stubble on his somewhat defined chest. 
She's stopped opening his texts, changed her settings so that they don't flagrantly expose her to public curiosity while in transit. 
All of this is unsolicited. 

They bought a house, Grey and Ashleigh.
His girlfriend of almost two years.
The latest development in the ongoing saga of will he or won't he. 
Lucy knows that when the cock shots reappear Grey's experiencing an existential crisis;
Relationship woes of a sexual nature.
Hardwired to wander, a child of the affair, son of a libidinous creature.
As sure as the mooon's pull on tides, he gracelessly self destructs. 

There was a time Lucy took the bait but she's learned: 
Never step in the same river twice. 

Their last friendly coffee talk had Grey musing over the battle of his rapaciousness versus his girlfriend's lack of sexual desire. 
For him, for anyone. 
It's been two years. 
An impassable desert.
His achilles heel.
Should he stay, should he go.

So the badly lit, too-much-information manhood on stark display pinging her phone three weeks later meant things were on a downhill slide.

She makes phenomenal money. Corporate law. 
She affords Grey a lifestyle only self employed creatives fantasize about. 

When Lucy ran into him at her vernissage the next week he promptly whipped out his phone to share more pics. 
Lucy choked on her Zinfandel, spittling drops of crimson astonishment. 
Eight hundred thousand for the semi detached with a park side view. 
A co-signed mortgage. 

All Lucy could think was
What a terrible divorce this will be.






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