~~~~~*~~~~~

The first thing Melissa saw when she opened her eyes that Valentine's day morning was a half-dozen bunch of red roses in a cylinder vase on her bedside table. Only moments before she'd been dreaming of flowers–most likely because of the lovely fragrance that was permeating throughout the room– and so it was no surprise to her to discover them upon waking. 

Joey wasn't one for grand displays of affection, which he considered buying flowers to be, but he always came through on Valentine's Day, knowing how much it meant to Melissa to be made to feel special on that particular day. She'd paid her dues on the years when she hadn't had a special someone to celebrate with, so she always said, so now that she was in a happy and loving relationship, she was adamant that the day should be acknowledged in the proper way. And the proper way meant lots of romance, flowers and chocolates.

Melissa smiled and rolled onto her stomach, bringing the three tog duvet with her so she could get closer to the lusciously scented roses and remain warm. The flowers were lovely, some being the size of her balled-up fist, with each petal marbled with a dash of creamy white–her favourite. She reached out to fondle a soft petal between her thumb and index finger and let out a contended sigh.

Joey was spoiling her this year. These were no gas station flower,s they could only have been purchased at a florist's shop.

As her eyes scanned the base of the cut glass vase, which Melissa had a sneaky suspicion was also new, she certainly hadn't seen it before, she noticed a slip of cream coloured paper which was half resting against the vase's base and her digital alarm clock. She reached out and lifted the envelope, holding it close to her face so she could read the inscription on the front. She wasn't wearing her glasses, but if she squinted really hard she could just make out the writing.

Wifey.

Which was weird, as she and Joey weren't married, and he'd never called her anything other than Mel, Melissa, or when feeling particularly amorous, cupcake. Calling her wifey was just plain strange. Not to mention incorrect.

Melissa roughly tore open the envelope and pulled out the card inside, sending a smattering of pink and silver glitter over herself and the bed-covers–a hazard with many cards aimed at women. It was a standard lovely-dovey Valentine's day card, complete with a plethora of kissing cupids, glittery hearts, and birds perfectly captured mid song. There were at least four cliches on the front of the card, and that was before Melissa had even read the no doubt sickeningly sweet poem inside.

It wasn't Joey's usual choice, that's for sure. He usually went for the crudest card from the humour section of the store–the area most people avoided but he made a bee-line for every time. It was for this very reason that Melissa usually took on the task of purchasing cards for their family and friends; Joey had an acquired sense of humour that not everyone shared, or even understood.

Perhaps he'd chosen something standard as a cover for the filth that would no doubt be inside, Melissa wondered. Goodness knows she'd checked him on it multiple times in the past when his 'little jokes' had left her with egg on her face.

It was tradition for them to invite their parents over for dinner around Valentine's day, and her mother, the dear easily-offended woman she was, always foolishly asked to see the cards they'd sent each other that year, fully expecting to see soppy words of sentiment that Melissa had long since stopped expecting from her boyfriend. You'd think she'd have learned not to ask, but no, she'd sit there with a stunned, sullen expression on her face year after year, never really getting the joke but knowing it wasn't in the least bit romantic, or even slightly tasteful. Perhaps this year Joey had finally gotten the message to tone it down, Melissa thought with a wry smile. If not for her sake then maybe for her mother's.

She opened the card and prepared herself for the inevitable crude joke hidden inside. Melissa had a good sense of humour and secretly loved hearing a rude joke now and then, but even she had her limits. With Joey, you never really knew what he would do, or say, next.

Mel,

I love being married.

It's so great to find that one special person

you want to annoy for the rest of your life.

That's you, babe!

Melissa stared at the scrawling writing, unsure what to think. Was that it? That wasn't even the slightest bit rude. And then she spotted, right at the bottom of the card in a scrawl of ink, two words that stood out and practically sucked the breath from her lungs.

Love, Chris.

In a panic, Melissa whipped her glasses off the bedside table and hastily shoved them onto her face. Was she reading that right? Chris had sent her a Valentine's day card and flowers? What the hell? Where was her crude card from Joey? And, in fact, where was Joey? Surely he'd have something to say about this?

She turned and glanced at the other side of the king-size bed, the side where her boyfriend usually slept. The sheets were ruffled and there was a very obvious dent in the pillow that suggested she hadn't slept alone that night, but she already knew that. She'd gone to bed with Joey, of that she was 100% certain. They'd had dinner, watched a movie in the living room and then headed off to bed at about 11:30pm. So where was he now?

“Joe?” she called loudly, hoping that her boyfriend would appear at once and make sense of the situation. Perhaps it was one of his ridiculous jokes to pen a card from his band-mate and watch to see her reaction. She glanced suspiciously at the bedroom door in case he was peering around it, waiting for her reaction, but it was firmly closed. She'd give him hell for this, Melissa assured herself as she re-read the inscription on the card. He'd have lots of making up to do. Unique sense of humour aside, this just wasn't funny in the slightest.

After a minute with no answer, she called again. “Joe? Joey? Where are you?” She heard a shuffling from inside the adjacent bathroom and the sound of the shower door opening and closing again. Oh, thought Melissa in relief. He couldn't hear me because he was in the shower. She waited a moment and then called again. “Joe?”

Rattling could be heard from inside the bathroom, but no answer. Does he have water in his ears or something? Melissa thought irritably as she frowned at the closed bathroom door. Her romantic Valentine's day morning was taking an unwelcome turn for the worse as was her mood. She almost wanted to call out Chris' name in case he, too, was in on the joke and was hiding somewhere in the house, but she felt too embarrassed to.

Climbing out of bed, Melissa reached for her dressing gown, which she'd discarded the night before on top of the pile of decorative throw pillows she always tossed onto the floor when she went to bed, and wrapped it tightly around her body, crossing the fabric over the top of her nightwear.

On this occasion, she was wearing one of Joey's personalised t-shirts; a plain black number, which on him fitted perfectly, but on her ended just below her bum, with the words 'I swear, she told me she was eighteen!' scrawled across the chest in big, bold font. Joey, naturally, found the t-shirt hilarious, even more so when she wore it.

Pushing open the bathroom door without knocking first, Melissa stuck her head inside, fully prepared to shout something rude at her boyfriend, but instead what she saw made her shriek in surprise and horror. “Oh, my God!” she yelped, throwing her hands up to cover her eyes. “What the hell are you doing?” Blind, she fumbled backwards a few steps as her cheeks flushed scarlet, and although she couldn't see, visions of what she'd walked in on replayed over and over in her mind, tormenting her.

Chris turned away from the mirror he was standing in front of, a bemused expression on his face and a dark green toothbrush sticking out one side of his mouth. A drip of pepperminty paste ran down his scruffy chin as he raised a mocking eyebrow and smirked at Melissa, oblivious to her overreaction. “Brushing my teeth,” he answered simply through a mouthful of bubbles. “That okay?”

“But... but... why are you naked?”

Shrugging, Chris removed the toothbrush from his mouth and wiped the back of his hand against his lips before answering. “I just got out of the shower,” he explained casually, turning back to the mirror and checking his hair in the reflection. He always brushed his teeth in the buff. It was no big deal.

“But why are you naked here?” Melissa squeaked, overemphasising the word. She made a narrow slit between her fingers and peeped through at him, but quickly squeezed her eyes shut again when she saw way too much of his skin. He's not even trying to cover himself up, she thought in a panic. What's going on? Why is he in the house in the first place, let alone showering in my bathroom? We have a guest bathroom for that, for goodness sake. Where's his sense of propriety?

“Would you rather I be naked outside of it?” Chris remarked with a snigger and a saucy waggle of his eyebrows.

“I'd rather you not be naked at all,” Melissa replied a little tersely. “Can you put some clothes on please? I don't feel comfortable talking to you when you're naked.”

“That's a little harsh, Mel,” Chris said, ignoring her request and bending over to pick up his wet towel from where he'd discarded it on the tiled floor. Fortunately, Melissa still had her hands over her eyes so she didn't see. “You don't normally want me to put more clothes on,” he chuckled. “In fact, you're usually clawing at me to take them off!”

“What?!” Melissa shrieked, dropping her hands to her hips and glowering at him before realising he was still naked. She hastily turned to her right to block her view of him before spotting his reflection in the glass of the shower cubicle. Now there were two naked Chris'.

Letting out an annoyed squeal, Melissa squeezed her eyes tightly shut before turning back around to face him. If she tried not to think about it, then maybe she'd be able to get him to see sense. Wherever Joey had gotten to he would surely be back soon, and she didn't think he'd be thrilled to find her in the bathroom with a very naked Chris.

“It's around nine-thirty in the morning and you've already got me out of my clothes. That's gotta be a record for us, right?” Chris chuckled as a naughty smirk appeared at the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, my God! What is wrong with you?” Melissa snapped. She'd had enough of this now. Whatever was happening, she didn't want to play any more. She wanted Chris clothed and out of her house so she could enjoy Valentine's day with the right person.

“What's wrong with you, baby? If I didn't know any better I'd think someone didn't like their card and flowers.”

“Of course I liked them,” Melissa said with a sigh, “but... but... they're not meant to be from you!”

“You're the one who's always telling me to be more romantic,” Chris continued, a slight edge to his voice. He tilted his head to the side and began speaking in a mocking, high-pitched voice, “you never buy me flowers or hold my hand in public. I never hear you say you love me. You're the least romantic man ever,” he continued in his normal voice, “and now I make a grand gesture and you pretend you don't like it.”

“But... I've never said those things,”Melissa gushed in an exasperated tone. “I don't understand what's happening. We're just friends, Chris! I'm in love with someone else. You know that!”

“Really, Mel? You're trying to break up with me on Valentine's day? Don't you think that's a little cold?” He smirked at her, his eyes bright and teasing. Unlike her, he hadn't lost any of his high spirits or sense of humour, and if anything, he seemed to be enjoying her hysteria. “Worst Valentine of the year award goes to... drum roll please...” he tapped the handle of his toothbrush against the enamel sink to make a drumming noise, “Mrs. Melissa Kirkpatrick.”

“What the hell?” Melissa snapped, “that is not my name! We're not married!” She glanced around the bathroom in a panic as a woozy feeling came over her, and she grasped for something to help her stay upright. Chris's arm reached out to her before she had the chance to object.

“Hey, whoa, take it easy,” he said as he tossed his toothbrush into the empty bowl of the sink and grasped both hands firmly onto her shoulders, preventing her from toppling forwards. Melissa flashed him a grateful, but slightly uncomfortable smile. He was far too close, and still too naked for her liking.

“Be honest with me,” she said weakly as he led her slowly and gently back into the bedroom. He helped her sit on her side of the bed before returning to the bathroom to fetch a towel. When he returned, to Melissa's relief, he'd wrapped said towel around his lower half. It was certainly a lot easier to talk to him when that wasn't right in front of her face. “Is this some kind of joke you and Joey have worked on together? 'Cause, frankly, it's not funny. In fact, I think it's a little sick.”

“Babe, what are you talking about?” Chris asked as he knelt in front of her, frowning in concern at the green hue her complexion had taken. He pressed lightly on her shoulders, encouraging her to lie back against the pillows and lifted her feet until she was in lying position. “Lie back,” he said, “You're looking kinda peaky.”

“It's no wonder,” Melissa said as she obeyed him, even allowing him to pull the duvet back over her body and tuck her in snugly. “I've woken up married to a Kirkpatrick.”

Chris rolled his eyes good-naturedly and placed a cool palm against her hot forehead. “Tell you what, I'll go get you some of the sweets I bought for you downstairs. Maybe you just need a bit of sugar.”

“Sweets?” Melissa asked as she stared into his dark eyes. He was being very sweet and kind but this was still all wrong. She loved Joey, not Chris. She wasn't Melissa Kirkpatrick, and there was no explanation on earth that could justify why he though it'd be okay to be naked in her house. How would she explain this to Joey?

“Yeah, some of those conversation hearts you love so much. Got 'em personalised, too.”

“Oh, God,” Melissa groaned, wishing she hadn't asked. She squeezed her eyes closed tight and forced herself to count backwards from one-hundred to take her mind of the churning of her stomach. Chris padded out of the room to fetch her the sweets he'd mentioned, and she listened as his footsteps got further and further away. Before she'd reached eighty-three, she was asleep.

~~~~~*~~~~~

“Happy Valentine's day to the best girl ever!” A deep, warm voice whispered into Melissa's ear and she instinctively let out a groan. This was turning out to be the worst Valentine's Day ever. Chris was back, and presumably he was going to try to ply her with conversation hearts he'd had embossed with their initials. C&M. Chris and Melissa Kirkpatrick. Oh, God.

“I can't do it anymore,” Melissa groaned as she covered her eyes with the back of her arm. She couldn't even bare to open her eyes and face him. “Please make it stop.”

“Cupcake?”

Cupcake? Melissa sucked in a breath and tentatively raised her arm, peeping out one eye at the man lying next to her under the covers, his chin supported on his palm and his elbow only an inch from her side. He was wearing a bright blue t-shirt with an all too familiar emblem on the chest.

Joey.

“Oh, thank God. Has he gone?” Melissa asked, snapping both eyes open and glancing tentatively over her shoulder. Where there had once been a vase of red roses, there was now an altogether different arrangement of flowers and Melissa let out a sigh of relief. The whole thing had been a dream! She almost hiccuped out of relief and glanced back at her puzzled boyfriend having never been more pleased to see him than that moment. Her mouth pulled into a wide smile as she reached out a hand and pulled his surprised face closer to hers for a long, lingering kiss. She didn't even give him a chance to answer the question.

She was Mrs. Kirkpatrick no more!

“What's going on?” Joey asked as Melissa pulled away and stared lovingly into his eyes. “Did I miss something?”

“Nothing. I'm just glad to be waking up next to you, that's all.”

“Okay,” Joey said, considering her words for a moment before a cloud passed over his face. “Why, who were you expecting to wake up to?”

“No one,” Melissa said, pushing away the memory to the dark depths of her mind, hopefully never to revisit again. She'd take that particular dream to the grave. “No one, baby,” she reiterated, reaching out to cup his stubbly cheek with her palm. “Happy Valentine's day.”

~~~~~*~~~~~