denouement.

"de‧noue‧ment [dey-noo-mahn] –noun
1. the final resolution of the intricacies of a plot, as of a drama or novel.
2. the place in the plot at which this occurs.
3. the outcome or resolution of a doubtful series of occurrences."

He finally came home yesterday - while of course, our house was exploding. And by exploding, I mean the plumbing had literally cause our master bath, master toliet, guest bath and guest toliet to EXPLODE all over the place. (another story. another time.)

Fate reared its ugly head, when I went to pick up my vmail, and heard his instead. We have the same access code, but I accidentally dialed his number. (Don't roll your eyes at me, I did. I nearly jumped his bones when he came home, so I had no suspicion at this point.) I know the girls that called him earlier in the week were our neighbors, because she had called earlier that day to tell me how much fun they had. (Not malicious, she's a sweet girl.) But what I heard was another woman's voice, telling him that his buddy got home and that to give her a call when he gets a chance - and thanks for the wonderful weekend.

I completely lost it.

I came out, guns blazing, screaming at him about the vmail. He then proceeded to tell me it was Barbie - a girl I know about - that had come on the weekend, in hopes of hooking up with his friend Mark. And that there was no way anything was going to happen with him and her, or him and any other women for that matter. Because his aunt is fiercely protective of our relationship, and because - most importantly of all - he wasn't planning to cheat on me, because he wouldn't want to hurt me. "It's not worth it," he said.

All is said and done. He realizes that was an accident - checking his vmail. He apologized for not giving me the rundown of Mark's hookup with Barbie. It didn't occur to him to mention it. we kissed, made up.

He hadn't slept well all vacation. And neither did I while he was gone. But, we finally slept well, together.