Funny how sleeping alone without your wife next to you messes with your mind. I couldn't stop thinking about the sound of Ashley's even breathing, or turning over in bed only to realize my ex-wife wasn't there.
Loneliness, coupled with scotch and ice, wasn't the best of bedmates. I finally got up, determined to find some answers.
In three days, the most beautiful virgins from all across the country would come to my rather foreboding home. I wasn't concerned with "love" anymore - all I cared about was finding a woman who would make me - and in turn, the entirety of Wales - look good.
I wasn't really being selfish - I mean, come on! The wife of the Prime Minister of Wales would be expected to be a valuable asset to the nation as a whole! I had every reason to choose a wife solely based on her good looks, right?
Wrong. And I knew it. I was being a sanctimonious jerk. And through it all, Ashley had accepted my verbal abuse with dignity.
I'd even heard some people say I didn't deserve a wife like Ashley. Curses to them all!
Standing by the window, I watched the stars twinkle with a most irritating irony. How dare they wink at me whilst my life fell down in shambles? How dare they dance whilst I was forced to face up to my own mistakes?
Or maybe it was the scotch that was making everything so different.
Or maybe I was overthinking everything.
Yes, that was it. I was overthinking everything! Why shouldn't I look for a new wife? Why shouldn't I gratify myself with a new change of life? I deserved to be satisfied! I deserved to have a submissive wife! I swore and stalked over to my computer.
The names of potential wives appeared in a long list on the computer screen. Several names caught my eye. Clue Berry. Twilight Knight. Wynter Holliday. Some parents were brutal. I wondered how the nation would respond to a woman named Clue. She'd probably be the laugh of Wales for years later. I needed a wife with a simple name like...I scrolled through the list. Sarah. Emily. Hannah.
Or even Esther.
Sighing, I shut the computer down and sat in my swivel chair, staring blankly at the now-empty computer screen.
Life was stupid. No wonder I had anger management issues.