He got up from the bed and moved into the bathroom. I could hear the shower running as I lay covered in the duvet, feeling pathetic. I wanted to go back to the previous hour, to undo what had already happened but I couldn't. With a sigh, I shut my eyes.
Stretching out my arm, I reached for my phone and saw seven missed calls from Suzzy, my best friend, my favorite person, my confidante. I wanted to call her back, but I couldn't summon the energy. My whole body felt like a broken, cracked glass.
Sluggishly, I got off the bed and followed him into the bathroom, freshening up alongside him. He smiled at me before gently pushing me against the wall, leaning over me with one hand pressed against the cold tiles for support. Water dripped from his face onto mine. He leaned in further and bit my lip. His hands moved over my body, teasing, tracing. He sucked on my neck, making me moan loudly.
"Aah, yes!" he exclaimed in pleasure.
Gathering what little strength I had, I pushed him off, reminding him of my awful state. He reached out and pulled me into a hug, his lips close to my ear.
"You'll be fine soon, I promise."
His voice was soft, reassuring, and somehow, it calmed me. He then grabbed a towel, wrapped it around me, and left. I watched him walk away, my gaze lingering on his butt before I let out a small laugh.
After he left, I stood in the bathroom, my thoughts overwhelming me as I dried myself. But they wouldn't stop. I winced, pain tightening in my abdomen. I clutched at it instinctively, but it was a dumb thing to do—it only made it worse.
I forced myself to slip into a nightcoat and limped back to the bed, where he lay in nothing but black briefs, a satisfied smile on his face.
Was there a good feeling about this? About making someone limp?
He moved instinctively to assist me, his hands steady as he helped me onto the bed.
"I'm so sorry, my love," he murmured, his voice thick with guilt.
I nodded wordlessly. On the bed, he wrapped an arm around me, kissed my shoulder, then my neck.
"Goodnight," he whispered into my ear before pulling the sheets over us. His arm rested across me, securing me against him. I curled into his warmth, grateful when sleep found me early.
"Where were you all night?" Suzzy's voice was laced with concern as I walked into the room, moving as though I needed a walking stick.
She peered through the window behind me just in time to see a black car pull out of the parking lot. Opening my mouth to speak felt like a task. I took a deep breath and replied,
"Jaime's apartment."
"Who? Mr. Moore?" Suzzy asked, her expression one of pure shock.
I rolled my eyes slightly. "You already know about him. Why are you acting so extreme?"
Suzzy sighed. "Well, at least he dropped you off."
I hesitated before asking, "Can I stay with you today? I don't want to be alone. I just might commit suicide." My voice was polite, but my words carried weight.
Suzzy's brows furrowed. "You know I'd never leave you if I had a choice, but I have to take credits for my Thermodynamics class today, plus I have a presentation on Entropy."
She glanced up at the old vintage clock, squinting. "It's 8:30 now. I'll be back not long after 12 p.m., okay? And I trust you—you're too full of life to do something like that." She giggled, trying to lighten the mood.
We hugged, and then she left.
I sank into the blue sofa facing the 55-inch television, arching my back slightly to ease the pain, which had already reduced significantly. Grabbing the remote, I turned the TV on, hoping to occupy my restless mind. Memories of last night kept resurfacing, and though I didn't detest what had happened, I didn't want to dwell on it either.
I flipped through channels until I landed on a martial arts movie. I had always loved fantasy martial arts films, especially the Chinese ones that seemed so beautifully fictitious.
For three hours, I sat there, lost in the action, until my stomach rumbled with hunger. I headed to the kitchen, initially reaching for some fruit, but changed my mind when I spotted a packet of noodles. A spicy noodles treat sounded better.
I pulled out a pan from one of the cabinets and prepared a steaming, flavorful plate. Since it was past noon, I made another plate for Suzzy, expecting her soon.
By the time she arrived, I was feeling much better. She inhaled the aroma of the food, then turned to me expectantly. Without a word, I pointed toward the kitchen.
She hastily dropped her bag and rushed toward it.
"Oh, Suzzy! You're such a hungry child," I called after her, laughing.
She returned with her plate, settling onto the sofa beside me. After a few bites, she set down her glass of water and stared at me.
For a long moment, she said nothing. Then, finally, with her mouth still half-full, she spoke.
"I thought we weren't hiding anything from each other. Isn't that how it's supposed to be?" Her voice was sincere.
I looked down, my fork tapping against my plate in shame.
"So," she continued, her eyes sharp, "tell me all about your interaction with Mr. Moore—and last night."