I was losing my patience. He was blowing this out of proportion.
“Azmir, you find it difficult to learn that a man finds me attractive and tries to make a pass at me? Everyday I’m with you, without fail, there are women gawking in your face not caring that I'm there. I'm fully aware that you are...beyond gorgeous so I tolerate it, you know why? Because as long as it doesn't follow you home I can deal. I expect the same level of flexibility in return. Thompson is an insignificant part of life, just as your legion of admirers. I have zero interest in him. End. Of. Story!”
“He’s trying to follow you home,” he hissed, staring aimlessly out the window.
I suddenly realized that I was out of breath. I couldn't believe his temerity.
“You didn’t introduce me as your man,” he muttered like a petulant child, his eyes still fixated on outside passing objects.
“Is that what this is all about? Is it? What should I title you? Tell me! Since when has this been so significant? Because I can't recall a time when you've referred to me as anything other than my name!”
“Since when?” Azmir shot me a look of incredulity. “When you're living with and fucking someone exclusively that counts as significant in my book,” he scoffed and in a nanosecond I saw that there was something other than anger behind his eyes, I saw fear. But what did he have to be fearful about? We were good. We were together. I’d done everything he asked of me in terms of joining lives.
Was that not enough?
With a hoarse throat that I could barely recognize I admonished him to see things from my perspective. “Not now. Not after...this.” I gestured of our recent carnal episode there in the limo. “Azmir, when you’re away it’s like my life...my happiness is put on hold until you return. It's like I’m forced to hold my breath until I see you, inhale you once again. Baby, if I’m not breathing I certainly don’t have the capacity to give attention to another man. I’m sorry you can’t see that and honestly, I realize there isn't much that I can do to make you understand that.”
Defeat engulfed me and I shut down, tuning everything and everybody out to nurse my broken ego. I was wounded. The remainder of the ride home, the elevator ride up to the apartment and even preparing for bed was met in pure silence. That night I slept hard and sound. Although I was beyond hurt by him, his presence back home and nestled next to me in bed brought an undeniable sense of comfort that allowed me to rest for the first time since he’d left almost two weeks earlier.
~~~~~~~~~~
Azmir
I woke up to a streak of glared sunlight escaping into the room. My body's internal clock came with an alarm. I didn't need to look at the time to know it was just before six thirty. Just months ago I'd wake at five twenty-five daily. Perhaps having Ms. Brimm as a new bedfellow had brought about my increasing ability to rest at night.
I rolled over to her and reveled in her beauty. She looked so peaceful and beatific while asleep. I also couldn't deny her fresh-face sex appeal. Her skin was fair and virtually spotless. The burning temptation to touch her bare shoulder was overwhelming, but I thought not to considering our fight. Flashbacks of events from last night's gala began flooding my head.
I tried shaking off Brian Thompson’s impudence of pulling a switch-a-roo with my damn place card. The fuck this prick think I am? I had to fight off the urge to make a trip to his office because I don't want to be too forward.