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His mouth twisted so bitterly that I had to look away. "To see you. Just to look at you and see if there was still any part of you left that I recognized."
My head snapped back and I leaned toward him, grabbing him crudely. "I found something of you that I recognize. The only part of you that I miss seems to be about the same."
He tore my hand off him, flinging it away. "How could you?" His voice was wretched with agony as he finally got to the point, to the ugly, rotten root of it all. "How could you?"
I felt nothing but fury at his pain. I was too wrapped up in my own. "How could I? How could I? How could you? How could you?"
He was shaking his head, over and over. "You don't understand. You don't know anything."
"I know you were engaged to fucking Tiffany, and that's all I ever need to know for the rest of my fucking life. You wanted to break me? Well, you did it, and today is your lucky day, because now you get to fuck what's left. Are you happy?"
His face was flushed, his eyes blinking so rapidly that I thought for a moment that he was going to cry. "Jesus. How did it come to this? Jesus. How did we end up like this?"
"If you don't know then nobody does, because you fucking brought us here."
"I know, angel," he whispered. "But believe me, I am not happy. If it makes you feel better, you can be sure that I will never be happy again."
It was something. A few drops of cool water to dampen the inferno that lived inside of me.
He had thrown me away, but at least he could never move on from me, not completely. He was no more capable of that than I was.
It wasn't long before he pulled the car deep onto the shoulder and put it in park. He'd taken me to a spot that fit what I'd described. He'd found me a nice view and a bit of privacy. Despite his animosity, he'd accommodated me.
I thought it was a tell of how I still affected him.
It was enough, for the moment.
He didn't move, though, didn't even take his hands off the steering wheel.
It didn't matter. I opened my door, stepped out of the car, slammed it shut, and walked around the front of it slowly, my movements sinuous, seductive. I made my way to his side, leaning over the hood, bracing my hands as I leveled my gaze on him through the windshield.
I watched his gorgeous, sinister mouth as he shaped a curse and then my name, the sight making me smile. Not a happy smile. There was no joy to be found in this. It was the opposite.
This was about killing anything inside of me that was capable of that emotion. Stomping it to death under my vicious, spiteful heel, then grinding it unrecognizable with my sharpest stilettos.
It was nothing new. I'd been at this for a while and doing a stand up job of it, if I did say so myself.
His door opened and the sound of his cursing matched the words his lips shaped.
It was music to my ears.
"I hope you brought condoms," I interrupted his rather creative diatribe, tone as abrasive as I could manage. "You aren't getting inside of me without."
The cursing stopped, and his silence was somehow much more hostile than even that had been.
The last time we'd had each other, no protection had been necessary, and the significance was not lost on either of us.
The difference between then and now was more brutally apparent than ever, and if he thought his bitterness could match my own when it came to this, this particularly, he had a lot to learn.
Finally he answered with a choked, "I brought some."
I flashed my teeth at him in my most sadistic/masochistic grin, "Well, then. Wrap it up, lover. I don't have all night."
He didn't even try to kiss me at first. I was so relieved that I didn't question it.
Instead he moved behind me, and I braced my hands against the car as I listened to the bittersweet sounds of him getting us both ready.
The rustle of my dress as he pushed it up to my waist. The whisper of my panties coming down. A zipper being undone, the crinkle of a foil wrapper, the snap of a rubber rolling into place.
