Текст книги "Arsen: a broken love story"

Автор книги: Mia Asher

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

Ben frowns. “No way. You aren’t his mother.” The word mother makes me flinch.

“We are not going. I won’t do it, Cathy. Let his friends take care of him. He’s nothing to you but a past employee.”

The light changes to red, making us stop. Frustrated and hurt by his words, I don’t want to look at him anymore, so I gaze out the window. I’m considering getting out of the car to flag a cab and go see Arsen by myself, when I feel Ben’s cool fingers wrap around my chin, turning my face so that we’re eye to eye. Ready to shake my chin to get out of his hold, his countenance paralyzes me.

Love.

I see love.

I feel love.

A love that makes his eyes burn as fiercely, and as brightly, as a wildfire.

Guilt placates me.

Guilt paints my skin red.

Placated, I try to explain to Ben why I need to do this for Arsen, and maybe at the same time I try to explain it to myself. I grab his hand and let the words fly out of my mouth before the light turns green and I lose him.

“Ben. Please…Arsen is my friend. H-He made me laugh and kept me entertained at work, and he, um, was there for me when I needed someone to talk to about the pregnancy.”

Yes, that sounds true enough.

“What about your pregnancy? You haven’t mentioned anything to m—”

“Never mind, it was a one-time thing,” I lie to him, “But that’s not the point. The point is that he’s my friend and apparently his friends think I can talk some sense into him. I don’t know why they seem to be under that illusion, but I have to at least try Ben. I have to.”

He stares at me intensely, appearing to consider his answer. After a small pause, he lets go of my chin and wraps his fingers on the steering wheel. He’s clutching it so tightly you can see the veins in his hands pop. Nodding once, his voice is filled with calm wrath, “Fine. But, Cathy, this will be the first and last time. I don’t like it, and I’m sure you wouldn’t like it either if I had to go get a woman you barely knew randomly. I’m going to let it slide because, well, I don’t have a choice, and because you say he’s your friend. And that’s the only reason why we’re going.”

He turns to look at me one last time as the light turns green. “Because he’s your friend. That’s all.”

I softly murmur back, “Yes, my friend.”

The words tighten my chest.

After driving for fifteen minutes, trying to find a parking spot on a Friday night in Manhattan, Ben drops me off at the entrance of the bar. He tells me to go in first while he goes in search of a garage.

Once I wave Ben goodbye from the street, I turn on my feet until I’m met with the ratty and dilapidated front façade of what I think is the bar. Glancing to my left and right, I search for something nicer looking, but with everything closed, this seems to be the right place.

Talk about a dive bar.

I never expected to find spoiled, attention seeking Arsen in a place like this. When I cross the threshold to the shabby locale, I’m greeted with the smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke. Distaste making my nose scrunch up and eyes squint momentarily. Once I get used to the surroundings I browse the bar, looking for the familiar head of golden blond hair I’ve missed so much. Not finding him anywhere, my eyes land on a stick thin tan black haired beauty. Her big brown eyes are taking me in as she leans over a tall, good looking guy and whispers in his ear, nodding my way. When he turns around, I notice the tattoos covering his arms and neck. He grasps the girl by the hand and walk towards me, only stopping when they’re standing a foot away from me.

Wow.

The guy standing in front of me is beautiful in a Euro-Asian kind of way. His body is lanky but well defined, his eyes are sky light blue and his jet black hair makes the white milkiness of his skin stand out. The girl is just as gorgeous. Petite and thin, her big brown eyes make me think of warmth.

“You must be Catherine. I think you got here a little too late. Now we must sit through another one of his drunken performances. But as soon as he’s done, please get Arsen the fuck out of here. The man is going to have tabloids hunting the place down, and people are going to lose their shit. We hate notoriety,” he says in a sexy raspy voice.

“Hi. Yes, I’m Cathy. And you are?”

“You’re such an asshole sometimes, Alec. Move over, baby.” Pushing him to the side, the petite girl takes my hand in hers. “You’re as pretty as I imagined, but older. Anyway, hi, I’m Sali. It was me who called you before. And this is Alec, my boyfriend. His band is playing tonight and, well, Arsen decided he wants to be a fucking rock star and play with them. I wanted you to get here before he went on stage and made a fool of himself in front of all those people, but it’s too late. As you can see, he’s about to perform.”

When she moves her small frame out of the way, my eyes land on the stage where there’s a man sitting on a wooden stool behind the microphone. He’s staring down at the floor, seemingly lost in thought.

Heart beating wildly.

Dry mouth.

Palms sweating.

The fog that wrapped itself around me like an anesthetic cocoon in the past week begins to slowly dissipate as I drink in his ravaged beauty with eyes so thirsty they feel dry. His cheeks appear sunken and hollow, it looks like he has lost weight, and his clothes, usually so pristine, look worn and dirty.

Arsen.

Finally.

When a stranger shouts something at him, Arsen lifts his face, but his gaze doesn’t land on the audience. It lands on me. My heart seizes to beat when our eyes first connect, but his blue gaze is like a defibrillator to my chest, sending warm electric shocks bringing me back to life.

Empty eyes explore and study me closely as a potent shiver travels down my spine, leaving me cold in its wake. I watch Arsen close his eyes as he lifts a shaky palm to push some of his blond hair off his face, highlighting the contours of his perfect arms and chest. After a moment of respite, he shakes his head once and lifts his eyes to stare at the audience, avoiding looking in my direction.

Completely ignoring me.

I feel an intense pain in the back of my throat, making it hard to swallow as I watch him stand up, walk to the edge of the stage, and lean over the crowd to say something to a group of girls standing closest to him. Giggling, they nudge each other until one of them, the one wearing the shortest skirt, shimmies out of her thong and hands it to him. His eyes empty, he smiles charmingly and puts the disgusting item in the front pocket of his shirt. Once he’s done flirting, or whatever you want to call it, Arsen makes his way back to the stool and sits down. When a young guy with a guitar approaches him, Arsen turns his back to the audience, the girls forgotten, and begins to talk to him.

Feeling a small hand wrap around my upper arm, I tear my gaze away from the stage to stare at Sali who’s currently scrutinizing me with her big pretty brown eyes.

“Don’t mind that. He’s just fucking with everyone. On a good note, he doesn’t look as drunk as before, but I’m still afraid he’s going to make a fool of himself. When he’s done with the song, Alec is going to get him off the stage, and that’s your opportunity to make him leave with you. Oh wait! Where is your husband? Did he go home because that would be totally cool. Maybe you could drive Alec’s Porsche?”

I get the feeling that Sali doesn’t want Ben here.

“Yes. Ben, my husband, is here with me. Well, he should be here any moment now. We couldn’t find a parking spot.”

“Oh. Well, never mind. Just get him out of here, ‘kay?”

“Babe, I gotta go to the stage. I don’t know what Arsen wants to do, but I gotta be there. You cool?”

After a quick peck on the lips, Sali tells Alec to go and kill it, and to make sure Arsen doesn’t make the biggest mistake of his life. I don’t understand why singing a song would be such a terrible thing. As a matter of fact, it makes me feel proud of him.

“Um, Is Arsen any good?” I hate how shaky my voice sounds.

“Fuck, yeah! He’s awesome! Alec has been trying to get him to join the band, but he won’t do it. I personally think he doesn’t want to deal with the fame. I mean, look at the guy! He’s popular enough without being in a band.”

“Is Momo popular?”

“They do okay.” She smiles at me, pride shining through her eyes. “Anyway, look! They’re starting. Let’s hope Arsen is able to sing after the alcohol binge he’s been on since last Thursday night.”

I steal a glance in his direction and see him talking to Alec as his hand covers the microphone. Alec seems to be trying to talk some sense into Arsen who is shaking his head mulishly at him, then Alec throws his hands in the air and walks away from Arsen, leaving him all alone. A smile so cruel it could be a sneer crosses his lips as he stares at his feet. When he lifts his eyes to look at the audience, I feel the small hairs lift on the back of my neck.

Slurring his words a little, I hear the voice I thought I would never hear again and it makes me happy.

So happy.

“I’m not going to introduce myself because there’s no fucking point. According to my father I’m a fucking nobody, and it’s cool.” He runs his hand through his hair and lets it settle on his nape. “I agree with him. Anyway, my friend Alec, who likes to pretend he’s a struggling musician when he could probably buy a damn record label himself, has allowed me to grace you all with my shitty and worthless talent. Hope you enjoy it. Oh, yeah, I forgot. I dedicate this song to a friend of mine.”

Oh no. Don’t.

Arsen laughs into the microphone at his own private joke, but his next words destroy me. “You see, she’s this pretty little thing. Fucking beautiful, really. And she has dimples, the prettiest fucking dimples you’ve ever seen. But she’s married, loves her man, and that doesn’t work for me because I want her. Really fucking bad.” The crowd goes crazy with his words, but I can’t hear anything.

I’m deaf to the loud sounds around me.

His words are all I can hear.

All I want to hear.

In a few sentences, he has shattered all my foolish illusions that we were friends, just friends. He has spoken the final truth that I cannot deny anymore.

And it hurts.

It hurts so much because I did this. I allowed it to happen.

“Anyway, this is for her.” As the words leave his mouth, he lifts his gaze from the audience until it lands on me.

When our eyes connect, we stare as if the world didn’t exist around us. As if it was only the two of us.

Fire and Ice.

Clutching myself tighter in my arms, I want to run and escape this room. I want to leave him behind, but I can’t. My feet are stuck to my spot on the dirty and wet floor, watching him about to crash and burn, bringing me down with him.

Without breaking eye contact, he shatters my heart with his lyrics.

In the shadows of the other man, in the shadows of the other man.

In the shadows of the other man, I can hear your voice calling for me, calling for me.

Green-eyed beauty with a heart of steel, heart of steel.

Open your eyes, open your eyes and see me, see me.

Witch, you hypnotize me with your wicked ways and with your body of white chocolate temptation. Let me taste you before I rip my brains out, my brains out.

I wander aimlessly through the pages of my broken love story trying to find my way back to you.

In the shadows of the other man, in the shadows of the other man.

In the shadows of the other man, I can hear my soul crying out for you, crying out for you.

Soul catcher, soul stealer, give me back my soul. Without my soul, I am nothing, Without you I am nothing, I am nothing.

In the shadows of the other man, in the shadows of the other man.

In the shadows of the other man, I am nothing.

I am nothing.

I feel chills run over my body. I feel hot and cold…so cold. I’m shaking, and so hot my cheeks are burning. Arsen’s words are spinning in my head, making me dizzy.

I can’t.

I can’t do this.

Excusing myself, I try to walk calmly toward the washroom without breaking into a run. My steps shaky, I feel eyes on me. Everywhere. A nagging voice in my head tells me that I should worry about Ben. What if he saw the whole performance and connects the dots? But I can’t. I have to get out of here and deal with the consequences later.

I need to be alone.

Once in the restroom, I give up attempting to cool myself with a wet paper towel, and splash my face with water instead. It works a little, but I still feel my face burning. Lifting my eyes to the mirror, I panic at the emotions painted on my face. I look flushed, almost feverish, and my eyes are shining again, a euphoric sparkle that shouldn’t be there.

No, no, no, no.

But it’s true, right? I knew it all along. Selfish me wanted Arsen, so I labeled him a friend when we were anything but. His teasing, his smiles, his touch…

It was never the same with anyone else. And I liked it.

No, I loved it.

I loved the attention he paid to me and the way he made me feel. Alive. Happy. He made me forget. Ignorance is bliss, right? Well, knowledge is misery. And the truth hurts.

Because it can’t ever be, it will never be.

Walking out of the bathroom, I don’t notice the people waiting to use the facilities. Therefore, I am taken by surprise when I feel a hand close around my upper arm, stopping me in my tracks. Before I have a chance to dislodge myself from his hold, he opens the men’s restroom, guides us in, and locks the door behind us.

Scared, because I don’t know what he has in his mind, I shout at him, “What the hell do you think you are doing? Let me out this moment.” As I try to push him away from the door, he grabs me by the shoulders and pins me against the door. I wince at the strength of his hold. I’m waiting for him to do something, anything.

But he doesn’t.

All he does is stare at me. He’s watching me with such thirst and hunger in his eyes.

How could I not have noticed this before?

Oh, you knew, you knew.

Heat pulsates in my core with each caress of his eyes on my face. Roaming my features, he stares at my mouth, my neck, my cheeks, my eyes…

Arsen leans forward as his cheek touches my temple and stays there. I can smell a mixture of beer and cigarettes on him, but I don’t care. It’s him. I smell underneath it all. Arsen. His skin on my skin.

Explosion.

Fire.

I am about to speak, when I feel the tip of his nose tracing the edge of my jaw. Slowly, Arsen moves down to my neck, his nose following the path of my collarbone. I need to do something. Get him to stop but I can’t, I am stunned. And if I’m honest with myself, I am relishing his touch.

I missed it.

When I feel his tongue replacing the tip of his nose as he continues to trace my neck, I can’t stop the moan that escapes my mouth. I’m lost in sensation when he stops. Out of nowhere he straightens his body and lets go of me. He moves to stand in front of me, huge and imposing. His breathing is hard and fast. I can see the bulge tenting the front of his pants, goading me, making me wonder what it would feel like if I touched him right now. If I unzipped his pants and grabbed his dick. Hard. I know he would like me to.

Looking at each other without saying a word, it’s Arsen who breaks the silence, “Go ahead. Touch my cock. I know you want to. I can see it in your eyes.”

I shake my head. “No. Stop it, Arsen. You’re delusional.”

“You do. I’ve seen the way you look at me. You want me, Catherine. So stop fucking lying to yourself. Shit, even when your perfect husband was sitting right next to you at the bar, you could not stop staring at me.”

“A-Are you crazy? I don’t want to. We are—”

“Say it. I dare you. What are we, Dimples? Why don’t you fucking tell me what we are?”

“Why are you doing this?” Tears burn my eyes.

“Why did you bring him?”

“Who?”

“Your husband!” he shouts.

“H-He wasn’t here.”

“Yes, he was. He saw the whole fucking thing. And I gotta say, I’m fucking glad he did.”

“Oh, Arsen. What have you done? Does that make you feel any better?”

“No, it doesn’t make me feel better, but I can’t fucking get you out of my head. And I’ve tried. Trust me, I’ve tried so fucking hard. But seeing you here,” he pushes his body against mine, “I know one thing. And I’m fucking done pretending, Catherine. Hell, I fucking missed you. I need you.”

I shake my head vigorously, denying his words and the way they make me feel. “No. You’re crazy.”

As his breathing slows down, he smiles. “Your eyes betray you, Cathy, and I can practically smell your pussy getting wet for me. I gotta say, Dimples, it’s fucking turning me on.”

I feel shame and anger rising inside of me. He is right.

“I don’t want you. Get off your high horse, buddy. You are good looking, yes, but I’m married and not interested. You’re my friend, and that is all, Arsen. You’re a child to me.”

I’m lying, lying, lying.

The smile is wiped clean off his face. I’m glad.

“A fucking child? A friend?” The hurt in his eyes is like death to me.

“Please, let me go. You’re imagining things, Arsen.” Turning around, my back to him, I reach for the doorknob when I feel the whole front of his body press against my back. I close my eyes as I feel a shiver running through my entire body. He pushes me forward until my front is against the door, and my back is glued to his. I feel him everywhere, from his hot breath hitting behind my ear and neck, to his bulging erection on the small of my back.

“Please, Arsen. Don’t do this. I’m married,” I beg with all my heart.

“What if I told you that I don’t care that you’re married? I don’t mind sharing. What if I told you that I’ll settle for fucking you once? Just once where I’ll make you come so hard on my cock that you’ll forget that you’re married and beg me for more? And if you’re a good girl, Dimples, you may get it again before I let you go back to your husband, sore between your legs because I fucked you so good.”

I’m shocked and aroused.

What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I so turned on when he basically just insulted me and my marriage. “I-I think you’re drunk, Arsen, and you need to sleep. You’re not attracted to me. You think you are, but you aren’t.”

Immediately pushing his hips forward, I feel the ruthless pressure of his erection on my back again. Arsen brings his mouth close to my ear to whisper words that make my stomach tighten with excitement and fear.

“Does this feel like I’m not attracted to you? You’re fucking gorgeous, Catherine. And I’ve wanted you since I first laid eyes on you. Fuck, all I could think that night every time I watched you take a sip of wine was that I wanted your lips wrapped around my cock, sucking me hard and fast. And whenever you uncrossed your legs, I could only imagine what it would feel like to spread them open for my cock to get inside of your tight pussy and fuck you right on the table. It’s been fucking hell wanting you and not being able to have you, not being able to do anything about it,” he pauses, “I want you, Catherine.”

When the word pussy left his mouth, he touches me there, slowly rubbing me over my skirt, his hand sliding in and out, his fingers trying to go as deep and close to my clit as my skirt will allow him.

“Mmmhmmm…yes, you are so fucking hot. Feel how hard your wet pussy is making my cock…I bet I could slide your panties to the side and fuck you nice and hard right against this door, right now.”

His words snap me out of my haze.

What the hell am I doing? I get it together, slap his hand away and turn around to face him one more time. The last time.

“Get your fucking hands off me. Who do you think you are to speak to me like that? Does it work with other women? You tell them you’re going to fuck them, and they just spread their legs for you? You’re too pretty for me. I like real men. And my husband is everything you are not. A man.”

I see anger replacing disbelief in his handsome features. I lied when I said that he was too pretty and not a real man. He is beautiful. Before I lose steam and my own anger is replaced by fear, I forge on, “You picked the wrong woman to mess with. I’m happily married to a great man whom I love so very much. A-And I’m not interested in fucking you. My hand would probably do a better job.”

So not true.

He looks so angry. And baffled. Just as I think I have put him in his place, Arsen gets himself under control. There is a mean, almost cruel smile that doesn’t reach his eyes on his face. “Baby, you may say no to me tonight and pretend that you’re above all this,” He grabs my hand, guiding it towards his dick as he makes me rub him over his jeans, “But you’ll beg me to let you suck my cock one of these days, mark my words. You’re so fucking wet right now. I can smell it.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“But you want me,” he says flatly.

“I’m pregnant with another man’s child!” I yell.

As I remind him and myself of my state, I feel Arsen wince as his hand goes immediately slack. Good. I’m repulsed by the reaction his touch awakens in me and I want to make him feel just as sick.

“Fucking hell. I-I…” he mutters.

I take advantage of his momentary shock and manage to snatch my hand free of his hold. The air feels saturated by the powerful currents of electricity flowing between us as we stare at each other. It’s tangible. Realizing that this is my chance to escape before he says something else, I move as fast as I can, unlocking the door and fleeing. Not looking back, I leave him and his bittersweet words behind—where they belong.

On my way back to the bar, I see Sali talking to Ben. He looks so familiar and formidable, so different from Arsen. Day and Night. How did she know that was my husband?

“Hi, babe. When did you get here?” I’m surprised my voice sounds so calm when there’s utter turmoil inside me.

“I’ve been here for a while. I even saw Arsen perform, but I couldn’t find you, so I stayed at the back, “ Ben says without looking at me.

I reach out for his hand and make him look my way. “Oh. T-That performance was great.”

Sali cuts in, and I silently thank her with all my heart. “Whoa. And what a performance that was! You know, it’s upsetting to see he’s still so hung up on that woman he was seeing back in Paris. Such a waste. But you know how those bored married socialites like to play around with young meat. Mind you, it was totally shitty for him to get involved with one, but that’s Arsen. He likes to play with fire. Cathy, I think you should go. I mean, I think I overreacted when I called you. He’s actually much better. Not as drunk as I suspected. So yes, thanks guys! Ben, it was great meeting you! And Cathy, before I forget, come with me to the bar so I can borrow a pen and take down the info of your hairdresser. I love your highlights!”

Confused, I stare at her beseeching eyes. What is she talking about? I nod and follow her after she says goodbye to Ben. As I follow her to the bar, I turn around just as Ben lifts his hands to his face, the palms roughly rubbing his eyes as if trying to expunge images from them.

When we get to the bar after the crowd opens up to let us through, a sober Sali addresses me. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and Arsen, but that was fucking messed up. You need to back off. I didn’t know you were married and when I found out you were I still didn’t care. Arsen likes pussy and he fucks whatever he wants and whenever it’s offered to him. But that,” she points at the stage, “Is not cool. That’s my friend hurting. So you better drop your innocent act and get the fuck out of here. Go back to your husband who seems to be a really nice guy and don’t contact Arsen again. He’ll get over you. He always does. Now, get lost, bitch.”

And she’s gone.

What have I done?

Numb, I walk back to Ben and pretend that what just happened in the bathroom between Arsen and me never actually occurred. That Sali never uttered those horrible things to me and that the whole performance never happened. As we’re getting ready to leave, my stomach drops when I see Arsen making his way towards us. Ben must spot him as well because all of a sudden he wraps his arm around my waist so tightly that it feels like my bones are going to break.

When Arsen is standing in front of us, he doesn’t ignore me like I thought he would. He continues to behave as flirtatious as before, but now when I look at his eyes they appear cold and empty.

“Ben. Fucking great to see you again. Hope you enjoyed the show.” He aims his blank stare at me, hissing, “Hope you’re not missing me too much at work. Anyway, I wanted to thank you both for listening to my shitty friends and coming to my rescue but as you can see, there’s no need. They are assholes who think I need saving…fuck that shit. I need more alcohol and pussy.”

His words are like punishing lashes to my body, making me flinch in pain.

When I get home, I feel dirty and guilty. I know I didn’t ask for Arsen to follow me to the bathroom, to touch me and say all those things to me. I did not. At all. But I can’t get him out of my mind. And worst of all, I wanted them to be true at that moment.

Ben was quiet and pensive on the drive home, but he didn’t seem to withdraw from me like the last time we saw Arsen. He asked me what I thought of Arsen’s song, and I was able to give him an honest answer when I told him that it was good. After that, he dropped the subject and asked me about my day.

Nothing else.

Was he ignoring what happened back at the bar? Or was he in denial like I was?

After I take a shower, I put on a silk babydoll, apply cream to my face, and make my way to bed. I’m exhausted, and I just want to close my eyes and put the day behind me. I need respite from my thoughts for a couple hours.

I’m awakened when I feel the bed depress next to me. Ben. My sweet, sweet husband. Without thinking, I reach for him. Maybe if I touch him, I won’t crave someone else. Pushing myself closer to his front, I begin to kiss him all over his chest. I shower small kisses around his hard chest and over the ripples of his abdomen. I’m using his body to distract me, but it works because suddenly I want Ben to touch me. To make love to me.

“Jesus, Cathy…what are you trying to do to me?” He whispers huskily into the dark room as he lets me explore him.

“Let me show you…” I say breathlessly.

As soon as my hand wraps around his growing erection, he pulls me on top of him and lifts my baby doll dress, growling when his eyes narrow on my nakedness. Slowly, he turns my body around, guiding his dick to my lips as he brings my hips closer to his mouth. His fingers gently spread me open and I feel his tongue inside of me, tasting my arousal. I’m losing my sanity and dying of pleasure. As I moan, I let the sweet traction of his tongue, and the gentle pressure of his stroking fingers give me what I need, what I want. Craving more of Ben, I push his now hard dick all the way inside my mouth until I feel tears in my eyes. He is so large and thick, but I like the choking sensation I get as if I can’t breathe.

Minutes pass, the room is permeated with the smell of sex, we’re all hands, mouths, skin against skin, sweat is everywhere, helping us move, helping our bodies glide. Climax within our reach, I close my eyes and give in, getting lost to the magic of his satiny tongue. My body explodes as I taste his cum land on my tongue. Ben raises his hips, the tip of his dick hitting the roof of my mouth as my name crosses his lips branded with my flavor. Shutting my eyes tighter, I swallow him clean.

When I’m climaxing, it is Arsen who I think about.

Now I know why I felt so guilty.

He was right.

Arsen was right.

I did want him.

I still do.

I feel so filthy because I want his touch and his hot breath on my skin once more. I feel so fucking polluted because just thinking about his hands on me still makes me so wet. I feel ashamed and disgusted with myself because Ben hasn’t been able to turn me on like this for a very long time.

I can’t believe it.

And what is worst of it all?

I want it to happen again.

So badly.

After tossing in bed for another hour, I give up my fight with insomnia and go in search of a glass of water. Flushed and hot, my mouth feels parched with thirst, but the water doesn’t help at all. Screw it. I need to cool down. I open the freezer and stick my head in while getting blasted in the face by cool air. It feels delicious. Calmer, I make my way back to bed.

As my head hits the white, fluffy pillow, I turn to look at the clock. Its neon light lets me know that it’s close to three in the morning. Groaning, I flip on my side and begin to fall asleep when the vibration of my cell phone startles me, waking me up. Blindly, I reach for my phone and stare at the letters that together form a name that has engraved itself in the deepest recesses of my mind.

Looking over my shoulder to the man sleeping next to me, I watch an unsuspecting Ben, oblivious in his sleep. A nervous energy runs through me that causing my hands to shake.

Should I answer?

What if I wake Ben up?

I want to answer.

I need to speak to him.

I need to hear his voice.

You shouldn’t.

Wavering, hesitating, vacillating.

Good intentions lose the battle as I feel an overwhelming panic consume me at the thought of not speaking to him ever again because somehow, call it a hunch, I know that if I don’t answer this phone call he’ll be lost to me.

Forever.

And I’m not ready for that. I’m not. Glancing over my shoulder one last time, I pray that he stays asleep and never finds out about this, none of this. It’s not cheating if I just speak to him, right? Right. With my mind made up, I get up and leave the bedroom as fast as possible, without faltering once in my step. When I reach the bathroom, I shut the door behind me, lower the toilet seat cover and sit down. Body shaking and breathing heavily, I clean my sweaty forehead with the back of my hand as I try to calm down.

Can I do this? Is this right? Why do I feel like throwing up? Why am I hiding in the bathroom? I don’t know. I’m about to crash and explode, and I don’t care. For him, I don’t care. I press redial and wait.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three rings.

He’s not going to answer. It’s too late.

Moving the phone away from my ear, I almost end the call when his raspy voice greets me.