I don’t know if he notices or not, but his arm slips away, then he’s getting out of our bed. He walks past me a moment later, belting a robe. “I’ll make some coffee.”
He walks out, and I can’t help admiring the way the silk stretches over his shoulders, the narrowness of his waist, and the tightness of his ass. He leaves the door open behind him.
I roll onto my back, trying to get comfortable, and stare at the ceiling.
“I love you.”
“I know you do.”
My body isn’t the only thing that aches. My heart aches far more.
Why had I thought it would be any different?
Why had I thought his possession of memeantanything?
I’m just a toy to him, an object, something to own while it amuses him. Then discard, when he gets bored again.
This isn’t an engagement. At worst, it’s hate sex. At best, backsliding. It’s temporary, superficial, and I’m the only one at risk of getting hurt.
We’re not even at our home. We’re at his apartment, a bachelor pad, like I’m a visitor.
That’s what I am, isn’t it? I see it clearly now.
He wasn’t going to ever let me go, because he can’t bear to lose something heowns. But he doesn’t wantme, he wants theideaof me.
Alex walks back in with two cups and the aroma of fresh coffee, and I sit up and somehow find it within me to smile.
I’m masking now. Keeping my thoughts private, until I can figure out how to leave again.
And go where?
One thing at a time.
I accept the cup and take a sip. It’s black, just like his. Either he has no milk, or after nine months, hestilldoesn’t know how I have my coffee. Both equally likely.
“Is it Sunday?” I ask, momentarily unsure.
He answers as I remember. “Yes.”
“Any plans?”Are you going to leave me alone?
“None. What would you like to do?”
He’s never once asked me that before. And now that he has, I don’t have an answer.
“I thought I’d go and see Carol,” I say tentatively, to see if he’d let me. Then mentally kick myself; now he’ll know where I go, if Idomanage to leave.
“Why don’t you do that tomorrow, while I’m at work?” he asks. “I’d like to spend the day with you.”
I blink at that. First, no objection to me going somewhere alone, like I’m an actual adult. Second, the casual assumption that Carol will be around tomorrow, like no one else but him is busy in the working week. And third… the active interest inme.
Just a toy to own, I remind myself. Because it’s alltoo easy to fall for him, all over again, every minute of every day.Be strong.
“What would we do?” I ask. “Buy me underwear?”
It was a throw-away flippancy because I didn’t think he’d agree, but his eyes smolder. “That sounds fun.”
Shit.
