Wrong.
The fumbling sensation rouses me.My eyes fly open to find James leaning over me, grappling drunkenly with the hem of my dress hiked up around my waist.His face is far too close.His breath reeks of stale whiskey, his eyes bloodshot and hazy.Bile rises in my throat as he paws at my bare legs.The floral sweetness of an unfamiliar perfume clings to his rumpled shirt—a final, sharp insult.
Adrenaline surges.With a strangled gasp, I twist and scramble, sliding frantically out from under his weight to tumble off the edge of the bed onto the cold floorboards.I scramble to my feet, trembling hands yanking the crumpled fabric of my dress back down.
James barely registers my escape, his body slumping onto the mattress where I’d been moments before.“Fucking tease,” he slurs, his face partially buried in my pillow.
He lies there completely unmoved, already succumbing to a drunken sleep, softly lit by the grey, pre-dawn light filtering through the blinds.He looks peaceful.Not angry or demanding.This is the only time I get a glimpse of the man who proposed we spend the rest of our lives together.When he’s completely oblivious and dead to the world.My anger dies, leaving behind an icy feeling of pity.
For me or for him?
Us.
For us.
For what could have been.
A crushing heartbreak, cold and heavy, settles deep in my chest.
This is it.
This is what we’ve become.
After quickly freshening up and swapping the green dress for my powder blue billowy sweater and jeans, I leave the bedroom, gently shutting the door on James’s thundering snores.
The kitchen is quiet, bathed in the first signs of morning light.I head straight for the coffeemaker.I slide out the filter basket, insert a fresh filter, and grab the dark roast from the cupboard.
My preferred blend, not James’s.
I scoop three level measures in before sliding the basket back with a soft click.After topping it with water, I press the red button.The machine hums to life, a low gurgle starting almost immediately.I lean against the counter, arms crossed, watching the first few drops of dark, fragrant coffee splash into the carafe.A familiar process on a morning that already feels anything but ordinary.The rich aroma slowly fills the air.
I look past the coffeemaker, beyond the wide expanse of the grey-veined marble island, to the dining area.A heavy dark wood table surrounded by modern cream chairs dominates the space.Beyond that, a plush grey sectional sofa sits in the corner under two large windows, its deep purple cushions meticulously arranged.
I stare at it.The memory of the afternoon it was delivered hits me.
James had paced the floor, practically vibrating with impatience while the delivery guys assembled the pieces.His eyes constantly flicked between them and me, holding a possessive glint I recognized all too well.The instant the apartment door clicked shut behind them, he grabbed my hand and pulled me down onto the slightly stiff cushions that still smelled faintly of new fabric and plastic.
“Finally,” he growled against my mouth, his kiss urgent.“Look at us, Mimi.We’re making a home.”He grinned down at me, his eyes bright with excitement.
“It’s just a couch, James.”
“It’s a start,” he countered, before his mouth found mine again, his hands working their way under my top as he pressed me back against the cool grey velvet.
Back then, that kind of impatience, that raw possessiveness, thatpromiseof a future, had felt exciting.Intoxicating.
Now…
“The start of our end,” I mumble under my breath, filling my mug with the freshly brewed coffee.
I push open the sliding glass door.Mug nestled in my palms, its heat seeping into my cold skin, I step onto the narrow balcony and lean against the metal railing.The crisp morning air bites my cheeks.Below, the streets of Madison are quiet, just beginning to stir under a sky brightening from grey to a pale, hazy blue.The mix of older stone buildings and newer glass structures stretches out before me.
I sip the hot, strong coffee, my gaze distant.
The image of James reeking, pawing, and mumbling insults before passing out, resurfaces.It brings back the crushing reality of moments ago.Only now, the pity and heartbreak solidify, crystallizing into a hard certainty.
No more.
No more excuses, no more waiting for him to change, no more pretending this is a relationship.
