Ah, Valentine's Day.
Oliver and I actually celebrated it last night, even in the middle of the chaos of our lives. We had a nice romantic dinner at a place recommended by one of our new friends, then headed back to the motel where we've been staying for the last week and fucked like bunnies.
And then, of course, he left. Middle of the night, just like always.
I was pissed. I admit it. And in my anger, I did something I really, really shouldn't have done.
I looked through his luggage. I admit it: I was mad at him, and I just thought, the hell with it. I opened his suitcases and went through his clothes and generally just invaded his fucking space.
And what I found took me completely by surprise.