As I step into the hallway leading to the living room, I’m overly nervous. He’s waiting for me, sitting on the couch with a glass of water and a pill. Surprisingly, my headache is already gone. Maybe all the nerves made me forget about it.
“I’m fine now. My head doesn’t hurt,” I murmur. He nods and gets up. He leaves the glass in the kitchen as I sit on the couch opposite him.
He lingers in the kitchen, watching me with his arms crossed. I can already tell where we’re going to start…
“What the hell were you doing with those guys?” Bingo! I can still figure out what nonsense he’s going to say just by looking at his face. His voice is threatening, but it doesn’t intimidate me in the slightest. In fact, I’m annoyed that the first thing that comes to his mind is the guys from last night. So, I’m going to poke him a bit.
“What do you think we were doing? We were dancing,” I say simply, resting my elbows on my knees and touching each cheek with my hands.
“With their tongues on your neck?! Is that how you dance now? Well, I didn’t get the memo, damn it!” he exclaims. He runs a hand through his hair, closes his eyes, and his jaw is tense. He has every intention of breaking something; I can tell from his every move. It’s strange how, after all this time, I still understand the emotions his body wants to convey. Right now, he’s furious.
“Who are you to yell at me for what I do or don’t do? Who I dance with or let lick my neck is my problem as well,” I’m getting up to leave, but in two seconds, Henry is at my side, grabbing my arm.
“Don’t mess with me, Anna. You can’t do these things… I…” He was gritting his teeth, carefully choosing the words that would come next.
“Why not?!” I shouted near his face.
“Because I nearly killed those idiots! Are you aware of that?” He frowned when he said that, as if he had actually done it. As if he had really done it. “I had to muster every ounce of self-control to get out of that damn club and not disfigure their faces. You know me, you know damn well I hate it when someone touches you who isn’t me. You send me a picture with two morons touching you? See how your attempts to make me feel bad affect others’ lives.”
And I did it. I don’t know what I was thinking when I sent that picture to Henry. Well, actually, I do. I wanted him to suffer a fraction of what I did because, if he loves me as he claims, the moment he saw the picture, his heart must have felt trampled by a thousand different feet. And I wanted it that way; I needed him to suffer. I still want him to. I feel like crap, but it’s the only truth I have. My heart was his, and he stomped on it so many times until he got tired of it. The problem is, in the process, he left something that forced me not to forget him. Jeremy is everything Henry is. Jeremy has his eyes, features, hair… Each year that passed, these things intensified. With each passing day, Jeremy became more like his father. Giving him a goodnight kiss reminded me of the moment Henry left. I remember that until Jeremy turned three, tears still came to my eyes at bedtime. The feelings were still there, and the wounds were still fresh.
“I was drunk… I wasn’t thinking clearly,” I couldn’t tell him that I wanted to hurt him. If I did, I’d realize I’m the one from the past. And I definitely don’t want to be that.
“Yeah, but I know you remember why you did it, and I want to know why,” he said.
“I don’t know,” I replied.
“Anna, I’ll be like this all day until you tell me why you did it,” he let go of my arm, and that “I get what I want” look was there. Sometimes I just wanted to hit that desperately pretty face.
“I have a family, you know? Jeremy and Dave must be waiting for me, worried,” I replied, slowly moving backward.
I glanced at the door out of the corner of my eye, hoping it wasn’t locked so I could escape when Henry touched me. I knew he would touch me at any moment, and I’d want to play along too, but I couldn’t let that happen again. I’M ENGAGED. I’M GETTING MARRIED. I have to understand that once and for all and stop acting like a hormonal teenager.
“Don’t fool yourself,” he said, turning around and opening his refrigerator. He took out a water bottle and turned to look at me. He opened the bottle, and it was like watching art to see him drink from it. His Adam’s apple moving with each sip…
What did he just say?
“What did you do?” I dared to ask. When he shrugged, I knew I wouldn’t like the answer.
“You slept for 16 hours, Ann. And it’s a 12-hour flight from Seattle to England.” A smile appeared on his lips. He looked like a kid who had just pulled off a prank. It took me a couple of seconds to understand his words, but when I did, my eyes widened, probably resembling two bowling balls-exaggerated but true. He couldn’t…
“You didn’t,” I muttered. I wanted to stay away from him, but anger was getting the best of me. I moved closer, ready to hit him if I didn’t like his response. Literally, the vase in the kitchen was looking very tempting to throw in his stupid face.
“Well, I did,” my hand reached for his cheek, but he grabbed my hand in mid-flight towards his face.
“What did you tell her to tell her? What’s with the aggression?” I growled.
“Alison said you were stressed about the wedding and needed a few days for yourself. Why all the hostility?”
“Are you crazy?! And did Alison just accept it like that?” I snapped, more upset with my ex-friend than with Henry.
“No… I actually told her that if there was any progress, she’d help me out, and I had to explain what happened the other day at your workplace… And also that last night, your tongue was down my throat,” the air of smugness in his statement pissed me off even more.
“Well, yours wasn’t far from mine either.”
“I know, don’t remind me, it makes me want it to be there again,” he whispered, laughing. I couldn’t help but notice how his face dangerously but gradually moved closer to mine.
“Shut up,” I managed to say with my heart in my throat.
“Last night, you liked it open,” he said just centimeters away from my lips. That made me feel very embarrassed, and I pulled away enough to shout at him without deafening him.
“Shut up!” I shout and move away from him. He releases my hand, and I hug myself to calm my skin, which is still tingling from his closeness. “I’m not staying with you for days; you’re crazy.”
“Find the key then. The door is locked, and guess who has it,” he leans on the kitchen counter, putting his hands on either side of his face with a rather forced innocent smile.
Alison.
I reach into my chest to grab my phone and send a text to my friend, but it’s not there.
“Where’s my phone?” I ask in a sigh.
“You’re a deep sleeper, did you know that?”
“You touched me while I was asleep?!” I squeal like a child.
“Oh, come on, Ann. I touched you in more private places last night, and you were quite awake.”
Okay, I can’t deny that.
“You and I will sort things out. The present and the past. And if possible, the future too. So get comfortable.”
Damn…