The Package

Eager to get home after a long week working for that slimeball of a boss, Jackson and after fighting through the rush hour traffic, I arrived home to find a package on my doorstep. There was nothing, but my name written with thick black marker on the brown paper packaging.

In desperate need of a glass of wine, I picked up the package and hurried indoors placing it on the kitchen table along with my bag and house keys.

I opened the fridge and took out the bottle of red (I had opened last night) and poured myself a glass. Satisfaction rushed over my body as I gulped down the cold red liquid. Relief and relaxation kicking in for the weekend. ‘Phew’ I had made it through another week and survived.

I moved to the table, sat down on the chair and stared at the brown package sitting before me. I took another swig of wine and questioned... what was in there? Who had left it on my doorstep? Was this part of the sick joke he was playing on me?

Snatching the package off the table, I knocked over the glass spilling the contents over the table and soaking the newspaper at the edge. "Shit," I snapped running to the sink and grabbing a cloth. I mopped up the remaining wine before it soaked into the oak and ruined it. Another mess sorted before it got worse. The cloth a fine red colour now, needed soaking, so I tossed it in the sink and the newspaper, now ruined, went in the bin. I leant back on the worktop and ripped open the parcel still in my hand.

The package could only have been from him. Holding it with both my hands, I read the title on the cover out load. "How to tell if your partner is a Narcissist!" How apt, given who had the left this on my doorstep.

I opened the cover and written in blue Biro were the words…

Read this. It will teach you a lot about yourself! x

"How rude!" I shouted, closing the book and throwing it on to the table. "Who does he think he is saying I am the narcissistic one? I am NOT the one who looks in the mirror 30 times a day or seeks approval from every woman I meet!"

I stormed out of the room and stopped to look at myself in the mirror on the wall. Realisation hit me, I had just done what I denied I do. He might have a point my inner voice told me. I walked back into the kitchen, picked up the book, sat down and began to read.