“Please don’t say that again, and don’t tell anyone. I don’t celebrate my birthday…not anymore.”
It was such an odd thing to say, but I let it drop because something inside told me to stay silent. A knot formed in the pit of my stomach, and it was an eerie reminder of a time long before. His birthday passed. I couldn’t even wish him a happy birthday. All I was able to give him was my body, letting him take anything he wanted that night.
It was two days after that when Nathan left early. It was odd, strange for him to leave, let alone in the middle of the morning and without saying anything to me. So, at just after five, I found myself fidgeting with my keys as the elevator ascended the fifteen stories to his condo.
“Nathan?” I called, my voice echoing around the empty walls as I entered.
A warm breeze guided me to the balcony off the living room. I stepped out into the warm summer air, my gaze searching for him. I found him sitting at the end of one of the lounge chairs. The sleeves of his charcoal grey shirt were folded up to his elbows, a beer bottle at his feet and a cigarette in his hand as he leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees. His hair was a windblown mess, and his eyes were red.
“Nathan?” I called out to him again. There was no response; he didn’t even look at me.
My mind began running wild with questions and theories. Was he fired? Did someone find out? No, he wouldn’t have reacted that way if such was the case.
A glint of gold reflected in the sunlight and I searched for the source. Something twirled within the fingers of his left hand. My eyes focused in on a small band of gold, forged into a perfectly round circle.
A wedding band.
I stopped breathing, my chest constricting as the pieces came together. I stood transfixed on the metal as it spun in the light.
His wedding ring.
The thought repeated in my mind as the pieces locked in place. Whatever happened that marred his body, had also marred his heart. His wife had died. That had to be it. That was why he was damaged.
“You shouldn’t have come today, Lila,” he stated, his voice low and void of emotion, his eyes cast out onto the view of the cityscape as he picked up the beer and took a swig. “I can’t control what I may do. I’ll hurt you; I don’t want to hurt you.”
I pushed him for the first time. “I’m not going anywhere. Tell me, what’s wrong.”
He whispered so low that I almost missed it. “Four years ago today everything fell to ruin. Leave, Lila.”
My heart sped, threatening to burst from my chest as his mood from the last week and a half started to make sense. “I’m not leaving, not when you’re finally talking.” I stepped closer to him.
He still didn’t look up at me. “I don’t just mean today. Leave me. What we have is fucked up.”
“It may be fucked up, but it’s helping us both. We need each other.”
“I’m not good to be around.”
“You are. You are good to be around.” My voice broke.
In a flash, he stood and spun his arm around, releasing the bottle. It crashed into the brick wall, sending droplets of beer and shards of glass everywhere. I jumped back, surprised by his reaction. This anger was different, more potent.
“You don’t fucking get it! I lost everything that mattered most. My family. The family they stole from me, and the one I pushed away for their own safety.”
In two steps, he was on top of me, lips to mine, heated and desperate. His hands were fisted in my hair, pulling me closer.
“Leave me,” he pleaded, pulling back with tears in his eyes. “I can’t lose you the same way I lost her.”
“I’m here, take solace in me. I need you.”
He growled and walked me backward and into the wall. “I can’t fucking do this to you; I won’t,” he said, but his hands held my arms on either side of my body, the brick biting into my skin, his body pressed tight against my own. He leaned down, his lips capturing mine, his tongue lapping as he attempted to devour me.