What the fuck. That came out of leftfield. “You’re kidding right?” I ran a finger along her chin and ignored her silly words. “Stay the night, maybe you’re tired after the drive.”
Her eyes met mine and I wasn’t sure what about her look twisted my gut. It took a moment to register that she wasn’t teasing. “Are you seriously breaking up with me, Zena?” I stared at her, wondering what was driving the irrational decision. “Color me stupid but didn’t we just fuck?”
She didn’t respond. With my head in my hands, I took a long, deep breath, trying to find some calm among the chaos my life had become over the years. I used to be a grounded kid, or so I was told, then shit happened. Since then, I tried to find my way, tried to live the life that I wanted. But there was always something missing. Fuck if I knew what.
And now this shit. I lifted my head and stared at my girlfriend of six years, well four and a half to be exact. The first six months took a while to build into something permanent and the last year, had been a fucked-up on and off type of relationship. While it suited us both, there were times, I wanted something a little more permanent.
“Look, Rayden, I think it’s for the best. I have no desire to drag this out, or even fight for a relationship that has become something we both don’t seem to enjoy anymore.”
“You mean,youdon’t?” I scoffed. “Was that a goodbye fuck?”
Rising, she shook her head and paced a little. “I don’t know what came over me and I shouldn’t have done but—”
“But what?”
She stopped pacing to look at me. “I came here to tell you something which I needed to do in person.” I stared at her, my expression blank, waiting for her to continue. She let out a long-drawn-out sigh. “You remember that night I went out with the girls from the club. Bianca and Katy?”
“Yeah. She was the one that went missing?”
Zena nodded, shoving a hand through her hair and something told me I didn’t want to hear what was to follow. “I got pissed out of my mind that night and I stayed over at Bianca’s place. Her boyfriend came over and...” she trailed off, her green eyes searching mine before she dropped to her haunches in front of me and gripped my hand. “I didn’t do it on purpose, Rayden. Please believe me—”
“Do what?” Anger stiffened my spine as I reined in my impatience.
“He thought Bianca was in bed and we sort of had sex.”
I let out a caustic laugh. “What the fuck is sort of. You either fucked or you didn’t.” I stood and the force of my movement sent her sprawling back on her ass. I made no move to help her. “Which is it, Zena?”
She picked herself up off the floor and chewed her bottom lip. “I was drunk, passed out and he fucked me. He had no idea I wasn’t Bianca because he hadn’t switched on the lights.”
I gaped at her, trying to decide whether I was angry or shocked or both. “You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes. I know I should’ve told you about this before we had sex, but I missed you and I just needed to feel close to you again.”
“You missed me, so you slept with someone else?” I look at her, incredulity tightening my jaw in a rigid clench. “Care to give that a little more insight, seeing as I look like a dumb fuck to you.”
She shook her head, anger turning her cheeks red. “Why do I even bother with you? You’ve become this hot-headed asshole who doesn’t give a flying fuck about anything. Least of all me—”
“Don’t give me that,” I hissed. “I might be fucking hot-head and I might not be around, but I don’t fuck other women. I fuck you.”
I watched the changing emotions flick across her face in quick succession. Anger, irritation, then defeat. Tears sprang to her eyes and quickly rolled down her cheeks making me almost not believe them. “I didn’t fuck him or anyone, I was drunk, Rayden.” She neared me, her fingers laced together in surrender. “Can you remember the last time you touched me? The last time you said I love you, and not because you needed to say it back?” Guilt skated down my spine. “The last time we shared anything other than a quick fuck? You call me your girlfriend yet you’re more of a stranger to me than some of the people that visit the club. Even when you’re with me, you’re never with me completely or wholly.” She took hold of my hand. “We were close once and then you began losing yourself in things that didn’t matter until you got lost. Now, you’re struggling to find your way back.”
I pushed her hand away, anger spearheading my need to hit something. “Spare me the psychoanalytical bullshit, Zena. Because you are feeling guilty about fucking someone else, doesn’t make me the asshole.” I walked away, needing some distance, some air. I didn’t want to admit it but her words suffocated the shit out of me because they had the possibility to ring true whether I admitted it or not. Staring out the window, I rubbed my arms against the cold wind drifting through the air. Maybe she was right, maybe I’d lost myself along the way. Maybe I needed something to give my life meaning. Maybe I was an asshole. Still, I was faithful to her.
This was why I loved the fight clubs, it pulled me into a world where black and white was colored red, where feelings were real because you were getting your ass kicked, where it didn’t matter who you were as long as you knew how to use your fists. Where pain wasn’t manipulated, it was manifested.
“I think you should go, Zena, you’re right I’m the asshole and you deserve better.” I turned away from the window to look at her.
Her shoulders shook and suddenly I felt guilty. Maybe the signs were there, and I’d ignore them because I was comfortable with the norm. Zena was the norm. Our relationship to our family and friends was the norm. Her hiccupped cries slowed, and her jerky breaths stabilized. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands then nodded. “I’ll see you around. Take care, Rayden.” Then she was gone, leaving me to stare at the empty space she’d just shared with me. How the fuck had it come to this?
