He’s looking down at her, and their faces are very close together.
I quickly flick to the next image.
She has her hands around his waist, and her dark brown hair is hanging over her shoulder, half obscuring her smile. But what I can see is how she’s biting her lower lip and how her eyes are half closed as she looks at him. The intimacy is intense. The sexuality is practically oozing from the photograph. His hand is resting on her lower back, and it looks like he’s about to kiss her.
My stomach churns so intensely that I want to throw up.
So,thisis where he is? Is he still with her right now? He’s busy… doingthings… with a beautiful woman somewhere in town, andthat’swhy he can’t answer my messages.
I thought…
I thought…
I was so fucking stupid!
My phone beeps again, and I don’t think I can bear to see another picture. But it’s a text from my father.
Ricardo: I was having a drink with some friends in town and saw this. Just thought you’d want to know. Miss you.
A spike of anger bolts through me, and I throw the phone onto the sofa. I don’t want to speak to my father. I don’t want to see those photos.I don’t want to think about Adrian being with another girl!
Painful rejection floods my chest and aches all through my body. I actually thought I meant something to him. It shows you how naive I am. It was just sex. Something fun. Of course he wasn’t going to say no. But to me it was so much more. And I thought…dammit, Athena! You clearly thought wrong!
I spin on my heel, wanting to run to my room. But the idea of lying there unable to sleep with those images in my head is horrible. So, I turn back to the fire and throw in two more logs.
I watch the flames. I try to focus on them and nothing else.
Tears are streaming down my cheeks as the pain engulfs me.
I pace up and down the living room, wondering if he’s going to stay with her all night or if he’s going to come home. I don’t want to see him. But I don’t want him to stay with her all night.What difference does it make? There is nothing between you. There never will be after this.
The door slams open, and I hear Adrian grunt with effort and mutter something angrily. Then the door slams closed again.
At the sound of his arrival, the anger becomes ten times worse than before.
I storm out of the living room and into the foyer.
I’m ready to scream at him about what a complete asshole he is when I realize how drunk he is.
“You can’t even walk!” I shout angrily.
He staggers, looking up at me and closing one eye.
“Are you fucking kidding me!” I groan. He is plastered. I don’t think he can even see me.
“Who the fuck…” he mutters, taking a sidestep and trying to reach for the wall. I quickly grab his arm to stop him from falling.
“Hey, let me go!” he snaps.
“Oh, should I let you fall!” I snap back. “Lean on me, you idiot, you need to go to bed!”
“I’m not fucking going to bed with you!” he shouts angrily.
“For fuck’s sake, Adrian. Just let me help you. And you’re damn lucky I’m bothering after what you did tonight. I should let you fall flat on your face in the foyer and sleep there!”
I half-drag him, coaxing him toward the stairs. It’s a massive effort, and it’s not helping that I’m so angry with him.
Every time I slip my arm around his back to try to support him, he tries to pull away from me, growling at me about touching him.
