Spontaneous short fiction -- "What next."

His day had been perfectly normal, until he came home early, to find that the place had been cleaned out. This was not a robbery. It wasn't messy, the apartment. There would have to be things, in it, for it to be messy. No, this was something else. It was empty. Completely. Everything, gone. Even the blinds. The blinds. 

His mind raced. "Of course", he thought, "Of course. It all makes sense, now. It had all been an act. She never really loved me. It was a show. A con. Well, it worked. Goddamnit! Fuck her. No, fuck me. Good one, Charlie. Everyone told you that she was too young, too pretty for you. Now, you have nothing, and she's probably on a plane, back to England, to be with that soccer playing ex-boyfriend. "

He had no sooner thought that, when she walked through the door, of the apartment, with a look of shock. "That's the kind of look that kids make," he thought, "when they've been caught in a lie. I've seen that look before." She stood there, for just an instant, lost. She tried to hide it, but he saw it. He saw all of it. The quick slip, and the regroup. He saw it, and it added fuel to his ever-growing anger.

It must have shown, because she said, "I'm sorry, darling. I meant to have the place all done, before you got back home. Please forgive me. I merely wanted to spruce the place up. You know? Give it a woman's touch. I hope that I haven't upset you too much. The delivery men will be here any moment, with the new things, and...oh, it was supposed to have been a surprise." 

She tried to hold them back, but the tears came anyway. In that moment, he felt both shame and relief. An odd mix of emotions, but there was no other way to describe it. Shame, for where he had let his mind take him. Relief, for the fact that he had been wrong. Then shame, again, for having thought it, in the first place. Meanwhile, she stood, just inside the doorway, crying, while trying not to.

As if coming out of a daydream, he slowly realized what was going on, and moved toward her. He pulled her into his arms, and then closer still. Standing a good foot taller than her, he kissed the top of her head, and reassured her, "Shhh... Honey, please don't cry. It's all going to be OK. It's all going to be alright. OK? Don't cry." He heard himself, and realized that he was trying to reassure himself, as much as her.