He intrigued me, it wasn’t only sex anymore. Every time his guard dropped around me, I saw the real Nathan, and I liked him. I wanted him. Every day I needed him more. Any thought of leaving him and returning to the way we were, was painful.
One week had passed since he conceded to letting himself have something with me. It was undefined and not spoken about out loud; little different than it was in the beginning. The exception was every night he was either in my bed or I was in his. It started on Saturday night when he showed up at my door just before midnight and took me against the wall in the entryway.
For three nights in a row, I was running to answer his knock near midnight. He’d fucked me like I’d never been fucked before. His eyes were dark and angry as he snarled at me; always reminding me he believed his lust for me was my fault. Hands dug into my flesh, bruising me. They were harsh as he pulled me to him, at the same time he pushed me away. Then we’d crawl into bed and fall sleep, his arms wrapped around me with the same intensity he’d used to fuck me.
On the fourth night, things changed. It was past midnight and he hadn’t knocked on my door. I knew of his struggle, and if I truly wanted him, I was going to have to fight for him. So, a few minutes before one in the morning, I knocked on his door and fucked him into oblivion then collapsed, exhausted, in his bed.
I’d never had such a peaceful sleep. The cure for my insomnia appeared to be a hard fucking, as I had passed out every night and did not wake until the alarm went off the next morning.
That lasted until the wee hours of Saturday morning when I felt the bed shake before Nathan screamed out—a sound so raw and harrowing, I knew it would haunt me for the rest of my life.
His body was shaking, his chest gasping for air as he swung his legs around the side of the bed. He fumbled in the dark with the light switch, and I cringed against the sudden, intense glow that filled the room. I couldn’t see anything, but I heard a drawer open, and the clinking of plastic and what sounded like pills bouncing around. Frustrated sounds and movements came from him in his frantic search. Once he found the right bottle, he opened a container and threw his head back.
I crawled out from under the comforter to sit next to him, my eyes having adjusted to the light. He must have felt the bed move, because his hand shot out and pushed the drawer closed, as if he didn’t want me to see the contents inside. He was still breathing hard, his face contorted in pain and anguish. My chest constricted; his agony became mine. It was so overpowering at times; I wondered how he even managed day-to-day tasks. Or was it my presence? It was always me that set him off, that much I knew. He never did explain why, other than he was angry at himself for wanting me and giving into that want to some degree.
My hands reached up to cup his face. His pained gaze met mine as he leaned into my touch.
“Ssshhh,” I soothed, my other hand stroking the sweat matted hair from his face. “It’s all right, baby. Everything’s all right.”
His lips caught mine in a harsh kiss. He didn’t say anything, but pulled me close as we lay back down. His arms wrapped around my body, head lowering to the crook of my neck. My hands began running through his hair.
After a while he calmed and I could feel the even temper of his breath blowing across my chest. Tears stung my eyes, but I pushed them back. I needed to be stronger if I was going to help him; a large feat for me.
It was Wednesday when Caroline dragged me out into the spring rain for lunch at our favorite dive. It was a hole in the wall bar that served some of the best potato skins I’d ever had. It was a rare treat to split an order, and I was willing to brave the weather for the wonderful tastes that awaited.
We placed our order and included side salads to make it a little less terrible.
“So, you got laid?” she asked without missing a beat.
I choked on the drink as it went down the wrong pipe, and almost spit some of my soda across the table at her. “W-what?”
“You heard me. You. Got. Laid.”