Something epic.
But I didn’t have time to figure it out, because as soon as he collapsed against me, jerked away, scooped his clothes from the floor and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
For never anything can be amiss, when simpleness and duty tender it. –A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Sergio
ANGER.
Always attacks in two different ways.
Either it’s a slow burn, a swirling bitter madness pumping into your veins until you feel like you’re going to explode.
Or it’s sudden.
Like getting shot in the chest with acid, but being paralyzed, unable to move, and in that moment, you like the feeling, you accept it.
You deserve it.
Madness.
Anger.
Uncontrollable anger.
For the first time in my life.
Both happened simultaneously as I threw my clothes against the wall. Not enough. It wasn’t enough.
It still hurt.
The anger still pumped.
I slammed my hands against the bar and shoved all the crystal glassware off. It flew through the air and hit my bare feet then spread around the floor of the plane.
Chest heaving, I punched the mahogany bar with my right fist over and over and over again.
“Sergio.” Val’s voice was calm. Why the hell was she calm.
“Leave!” I yelled without turning around, not trusting my own violence, my inability to turn on her. “NOW!”
A quiet “No,” was whispered.
And then her arms wrapped around my waist.
I tried to pull her away but it was like all of my strength had abandoned me.
“Fuck.” I slid to the ground, through Val’s arms and pulled my knees to my chest. “You need to go.”
She didn’t argue, but she still wouldn’t leave.
“Val, I’m warning you.”
Was she stupid?
I refused to look at her.
I already felt like shit. The last thing I needed to see was the anger in her eyes, the rejection, the vulnerability. I’d just taken her virginity and ran out of the room like demons were chasing me.
They were.
They clawed at my bleeding body, laughing, taunting, shaking me until I wanted to burn in hell — right along with my sins.
I wanted to be more than my past, more than the all consuming darkness, and for a few brief moments, I’d felt happy, the happiest I’d been in a long time.
But as soon as the happiness occurred, the guilt followed. Being inside her, knowing her in that way, it was like I was being forced to let go.
In order to accept her.
I had to let go of Andi.
I refused to do that.
I couldn’t do that.
“Damn it.” I rubbed my face with my eyes. “Val, I need to be alone. I’m sorry I’m being a jackass. But, can you please just leave?”
“No.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I barked, irritated that she wouldn’t just give me one minute to myself. It was all I needed. Just one damn minute to think things through. To process what had just happened.
To re-live the way she tasted.
The way she felt.
Even though it was wrong.
So damn wrong to feel — a completeness with her that I’d…
My fists shook. She was different from Andi, I knew that. What I didn’t expect.
Was for my feelings for her, after one encounter.
To be stronger.
And I hated myself for it.
Had I even loved Andi?
My chest ached.
And it wouldn’t go away.
She was the problem.
Val.
She needed to be the one running — there’d been a reason I kept a distance, and now I knew.
Oh, I knew all right.
She was dangerous — the power she already had over me was palpable, like something had changed even in the air between us, the swirling tension of sex, lust, hurt feelings… love.
“Get some sleep, Val,” I whispered. “I’m not good company right now.”
I tried to sound more gentle, more in control of my words.
“I think you need someone… maybe, even if that someone doesn’t do anything except sit next to you in broken glass.”
I glanced down, my feet were cut up, my hands were bleeding and bruised, and she was sitting on glass next to me, like it wasn’t piercing into her skin, like she was okay with the pain, because it was shared with my own.
With a sigh, Val held out her hand to me.
I stared at it like it was a foreign object. “It’s just a hand, Sergio.”
“No.” I bit down on my lip tasting blood. “It’s not.”
Val gripped my bleeding hand in hers and held it tight. “For now. It is. Make it simple, Sergio. I’m holding your hand because you’re upset. That’s all there is to it, okay?”
I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I nodded as I found myself squeezing her hand back as if it was a lifeline.
THE PLANE LANDED.
And I still hadn’t spoken more than a few sentences to Val. She’d changed into her clothes and started cleaning up the mess of glass.
I was dressed in my slacks and white shirt from the wedding, but my clothes felt dirty, tarnished. And I had no idea why.