[Short Story] - Morning coffee

I dragged myself down the stairs to the coffee machine and like every morning during the week the coffee was already made and breakfast already served. Wild berries and greek yogurt. Same as always.

I sat down at the table and my wife came storming out the bathroom to give me a kiss before she left for work. Again, same as always, though she never was truly late. She was one of those people who leave at least five minutes early to account for possible traffic problems and whatnot. She also preferred being a bit early than on time, and as a consequence was never late.

I kissed her goodbye, waited for the sound the door makes when it closes, then as always got up to check if I had any cookies left. I had to wait until she was gone, because she was supposedly watching over my waistline, and I just didn't feel like arguing. I had them stashed away behind the countless boxes of oatmeal and luckily for me, there were two left in the pack. I could already feel the crunch when I grabbed the bag and brought it with me to the table.

The first bite of the chocolate chip cookie felt as victorious as ever. I closed my eyes and its crunch sent me to foodie heaven. When it turned into nothing but mush I went for a sip of coffee to reset my taste buds and be ready savor the next bite. I tipped my coffee cup, and the moment the now lukewarm liquid entered my mouth something felt off. It was too good to be true.

I hesitated to open my eyes, but it had to be done eventually. I put down the coffee mug, counted backwards from three in my head and opened my eyes on two.

There she was, right in front of me, a mean look on her face. My wife had faked her departure, and it has paid out for her. She caught me red handed, with half a cookie still in my hand.