Kimberly
The birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and my body was pulsing with a feeling that was nearly so unfamiliar that I almost could not place it. I felt… somehow full, in a way that was difficult to give a name to. When I moved to sweep the blanket off of myself, memories from the night before came flooding back. Well, it was hard to forget being fucked just right when you were still covered with the evidence from the night before. I groaned, still feeling the lingering afterglow deep in my bones. God, he had been good. Better than good — he had been fantastic! I’d have to call him up again sometime… wait.
“Shit.”
I’d forgotten to get his number. I wracked my brain for anything that might give me some clue of who the man was, but it was the first time I’d ever seen someone of his caliber at the Red Room. I hadn’t even gotten the man’s name. I felt a bit bitter that he’d not left a note of some sort to at least bid me a good day, but I knew that was the sort of thing that only happened in fairy tales. Adult fairy tales.
As it stood, all I had to remember him by was the memory of his eyes gazing deeply into my own and the sensation of his firm hands on my skin. It was almost more romantic that way, if one could consider a one night stand romantic by any means.
Maybe the morning had me fantasizing a bit more than was healthy. I was sure a quick shower would get my brain back in working order. I would definitely need to wash my sheets as well after the mess we had made together. In retrospect, allowing him to fuck me without a rubber hadn’t been one of my most brilliant decisions. There was still a chance I could get pregnant, even if the chance was as microscopic as Chad had made it out to be. Ugh. I didn’t want thoughts of my ex-boyfriend to ruin my good vibe.
My phone jingled, as it had been obnoxiously doing all night, notifying me that I had a missed call if I remembered the tone correctly. I determined that I would deal with it after I got out of the shower and grabbed a big, fluffy towel and washcloth before slipping into my tiny bathroom. As corny as it sounded, I had something of a song in my heart that morning – I’d forgotten what effect a good fuck could have on you.
Turning the water as hot as I could stand, I rinsed off thoroughly, praying that I didn’t get a UTI or something worse. The guy hadn’t seemed too dangerous, but a prick didn’t usually look you in the eye and scream that he’s got the clap. He had been such a nice one, though… wait, wait, no. I wasn’t going to waste all morning touching myself in the shower.
Maybe a little touch….
No, shit. I had that missed phone call to deal with, and if I allowed myself a little indulgence, I likely wouldn’t come out of the shower until I was a literal prune. Grumbling a bit, I made short work of cleaning myself properly. I took a moment to maintain my womanly ‘upkeep’ as it were — well, more than a moment, really. When you were a woman with any sense of decency, shaving took what felt an eternity of contorting into odd positions to reach every piece of yourself.
My body was sore after the night I’d had, but a woman had duties to take care of. My body ached by the time I got out of the shower, but I felt vaguely refreshed at least. I slipped on my pink bathrobe and rummaged through my discarded clothes for my phone before realizing it was still in my bag from the night before. The notification light blinked almost tauntingly at me as I ripped it out of my purse, seeing who had called.
Well, the call from Tiffany was no surprise. No message, but again, that wasn’t any sort of surprise. She avoided leaving messages like the plague, which made it exceedingly for her to arrange parent-teacher conferences when it came that time of year. No matter. I’d call her once I’d had my morning coffee. I was about to place my phone back in my purse when the notification tone jingled again. Had I missed something? Tiffany was pretty much the only one who kept touch with me on a regular basis. Maybe the handsome stranger had gotten my number?
Frantically fumbling with my phone, a pit of dread settled in my stomach when I realized that I recognized the phone number. It wasn’t a pleasant sort of recognition; it was the sort of grim realization that felt like finding out that the light at the end of your metaphorical tunnel was just a train on its way to plow you down.
Fucking Chad.
There was nothing saying I necessarily had to call him back. He’d left a message, and while I had my doubts that I actually wanted to hear what he had to say, I decided to bite the bullet and press play on my voicemail app. I listened for several moments to what was essentially Chad groveling and apologizing, explaining that he had seen the error of his ways. My heart gave a tentative leap at the words, but the key word there was tentative. This wasn’t the first time Chad had pulled such a stunt. Every so often, when his girlfriend broke up with him, he would ring me up for a good time.
Granted, he generally wasn’t so apologetic when he called. The normal cry for attention was a simple, ‘hey u down 2 fukk?’ via text message. In spite of everything Chad had put me through, I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt — though I was fully aware he didn’t deserve it. Swallowing the lump forming in my throat, I sent him a text telling him to meet me at our usual cafe downtown. If he fucked up, this was his last chance. I couldn’t deal with the push and pull any longer.
I hoped being in the public of the cafe would keep things from getting too out of hand, at least. I’d made the mistake of inviting him to my apartment one time… believe me, that was never going to happen again. I had cleaned the wine stains out of my carpet and curtains for what had felt like months. Nothing like a man scorned, especially a drunken man scorned.
As I got dressed, my thoughts lingered with the stranger I’d shared the night before with. I knew I should be spending my time trying to find out more about him instead of crawling back to my dirt bag ex. A part of me still loved Chad, as loathe as I was to admit it. Some stupid part of my brain was convinced he would see the error of his ways and realize what he had lost when he’d lost me.
That part of my brain nearly exploded when I parked in front of the cafe and saw Chad lingering outside, near our usual table. It’s where we had shared our first date, and a series of anniversary lunches after that. My heart hammered against my ribcage, and it was all I could do to keep from screaming as I touched up my makeup. He seemed oblivious to my presence, his attention focused on his cell phone as usual. God, he was as handsome as he’d always been.
Getting out of the car, I felt like a deer in the headlights when I eased my door shut and his head shot up to look me over. He smiled crookedly, that smile I had fallen head over heels with what seemed a dozen times now. Flattening my dress, I approached him with a coy smile, taking a seat at our table. He sat across from me, steepling his fingers on top of the table and seeming to consider his words. This was a marked change of pace. Maybe he really had seen the error of his ways; maybe we truly were meant to be together. I’d always known he was my prince, my happily ever after—
“I’ve really missed that pussy, girl.”
His expression was still some half-hearted attempt at being charming. The words were like a blow to the gut, and I exhaled sharply as it felt like the wind was literally knocked out of me. He tilted his head curiously, reaching out to touch my hand. I was too startled to immediately draw away, so he managed to get a grip on me. He was fortunate that I wasn’t quite prepared to cause a scene.
“Such a way with words, as always,” I said calmly, trying to pull my hand out of his grip. He only tightened his hold, yanking my hand toward his lips and kissing the back of my knuckles. I grimaced, torn between delight and disgust. God, the mixed signals were going to make me lose my goddamn mind at this rate.
“Don’t be like that, baby girl. You know I miss the rest of you too. There was just always something about riding that thing bareback, if you catch my drift,” he said, his voice a touch too loud for comfort. I could hear the snickering of the patrons at the other outdoor table and could feel their stares. I was nothing short of humiliated, and the worst part was that I had walked myself right into his trap. I should have known better.
“God, Chad. You never change, do you? I actually thought you wanted to apologize,” I hissed, yanking my hand away and rising from my seat. His expression shifted to slightly chagrined, and he rose to trail after me as I made my way to my car.
“I do want to apologize, baby! I didn’t realize how good I had it. Having kids ain’t everything, and broken or not, you were great for a roll in the hay. I’ve really learned to prioritize, you know.”
I paused, turning to look at him in clear disbelief. Before I could stop him, he smacked my ass firmly, as if trying to show the world I belonged to him. Heat flared in the tips of my ears, and as much as I wanted to be the bigger person and simply walk away from the situation, it simply wasn’t going to play out that way.
Wheeling around, the palm of my hand collided with his cheek with more of a thump than a satisfying smack. I could tell it was still painful, but I didn’t enjoy it quite as much as I might have otherwise. He staggered back, disbelief in his gaze, as if he hadn’t just humiliated me in front of half of the city.
“You know what, Chad? Go fuck yourself. I’m so tired of this song and dance, thinking you’ll change… people like you never change. Do me a favor and lose my number, you shit stain,” I shouted, the idea of not making a scene flying clear out of the window.
“Well, fuck you too, bitch. Good luck finding a good man with that kind of an attitude! Like anyone would want you! I bet you haven’t even gotten fucked since we were last together,” he shouted after me, and I swear, something inside of me simply snapped. There was no stopping it.
“Last night, I got fucked better than you could ever dream to achieve. You think you’re God’s gift to woman? Ha! I faked it every time!”
The words were out before I could take them back, and Chad looked more than faintly taken aback by my statement. A group of women at the cafe cheered, and I heard a few “You go girl”s before turning my back on the man I’d loved and hustling back to my car.
In the past, I might have been brokenhearted. Not now. Not ever again. I was determined.
I would know what it was like to be truly loved.