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Jennifer lingered at the door silently. Her light brown hair was dark with the water that soaked it, dripping down her shoulders. She was a lean girl, her bony shoulders poking out, her breasts small and firm, and her hips just as thin as the rest of her. Her fingers were long even without her acrylic nails. But as I looked up, I found her light brown eyes blazing with annoyance. “You never want to have sex,” she said and shook her head slightly.
“I’m not doing this out here,” I said, pulling away.
She stepped away from the door. I didn’t know where I wanted to go. If I entered her studio, the place where I had been endlessly happy so many times, would I crack? Would this mask of calm demeanor fall? Would I plead with her and degrade myself by offering to work it out? To take the blame? To pretend I wasn’t hurt so I wouldn’t shame her?
But to turn around and walk away without speaking another word felt wrong, too. I had so much to tell her. And I wanted to hear even more. Except, her most recent words stung me like I’d dunked my hand in a pot of boiling water.
My back straightened and my arms dropped to my sides. I realized I was still holding the damn chocolate in my left hand. It was beginning to melt. Worse, I had somehow gripped it so hard that it broke.
Jennifer’s gaze flicked down and back to me. There was no pity in them. If anything, I’d only annoyed her further. “Come in.”
I walked into the tiny hallway. To my right, her bathroom was still steaming from a long, hot shower. It made my stomach turn. As I shut the door, I couldn’t help it. My lips dragged down and I forced myself to remain steady. “Why?” I knew it made me look pathetic. “I thought you liked me.”
“I like you, Sebastian,” she said as she walked into the main room. It was just as cluttered and as busy as ever, but all the magic was gone. As if she wanted to tear the wound apart, she untied her towel and tossed it over the back of a chair.
I gritted my teeth. Her shoulder blades were pronounced on her slim back. She walked across the room as if wanting to torture me and opened her wardrobe. She had a gorgeous deep red robe with light red seams that she slipped on. She tied a matching sash around her waist and sat down on one side of the bed. She bent one leg over the other and looked at me, her robe parting to reveal her knee and shin. “I always liked you,” she said.
“Yeah, I feel adored,” I said venomously.
She forced on a tired look for dramatic effect. “Sebastian, it didn’t mean anything.”
“Oh, well, that’s good, then,” I said. “I’d hate to have my life wrecked for something meaningful.”
That jab landed. She thrust her pointy chin out. “When was the last time you showed any interest in me?”
“Are you kidding me? Am I the one on trial here?” My voice thinned into a pained whisper and I had to clear my throat. My eyes stung again, but all my rage was gone. These weren’t the tears of hate. I wished I could call them back and simply be angry with Jennifer. The truth was, I was starting to feel hopelessly sad. It opened in me like a dark, bottomless pit, and nothing other than despair welled from it. “Christ, Jennifer, I thought we were good. I thought we were…” Going somewhere? It felt so useless to say it.
“Really? You didn’t realize I needed more? Real classy, Sebastian.” She crossed her arms tightly to hold herself and spat accusations at me. “All you ever want to do is cuddle and fall asleep.”
It took me a moment to find my voice again. The blow was too personal. “I thought you liked that.”
She hesitated, then nodded. “I did. I do. But that’s not enough. Jesus. It’s not like I’m horny all the time, but you never…you never want me.”
That was so not true. We’d had so many nights of intimacy. We’d had some of the best sex ever when the stars had aligned. The winter break had separated us for a bit, and then hockey drills left me gasping for air, and I was tired. I was tired of everything. I just wanted to be next to someone who cared about me and who understood what searing muscles felt like and how much the rush of last-minute decisions in my final semester weighed me down. I wanted someone who would understand what it was like to live up to my parents’ expectations. But how could she understand? Jennifer hadn’t worked a day in her life. An only child to a generous couple, she was given everything she needed. Nobody expected of her anything more than what she delivered.
I’d expected more. I’d expected some kindness. Silly me.
“That’s bullshit,” I said, the words tearing from me before I could rein them in. “You know you’re wrong, so you’re blaming me. But it only makes you look worse.”
“Is this seriously such a big deal?” she demanded. “I didn’t think you were such a conservative.”
“Is it a liberal thing to just look past cheating?” I asked. “Because I didn’t get the fucking memo.”
“We’re not in the nineteen-fifties, Sebastian. It was just sex.” She rolled her eyes, insisting on remaining furious with me for making a big deal out of this.
I drew a deep, calming breath of air. “You don’t care about me.”
Her lower lip quivered.
I hoped she didn’t care. In fact, it was the best possible outcome of this clusterfuck. Because if she cared about me and still stabbed me in the back, it meant that I was so pathetic in her eyes that she thought she could screw some guy named Dixon and still keep me on her leash.
“Even if you thought we had a future, you don’t give a fuck about me,” I said. “But I do.” Her eyes dazzled with a bit of hope, and I realized that it was all even worse than I’d imagined. She wanted to be freed of responsibility. She couldn’t accept that she could have been wrong and she hated me for not letting her have her way. “I fell for you hard, Jen,” I said. “I fell because that’s what I do.”
“Babe,” she said in a softer voice. “We can work it out, right?”
I snorted. “There is absolutely no way we will ever work this out.”
Her mouth fell open for a heartbeat. Then, as she came to her senses, she pursed her lips.
