The breakup was brutal, full of tears and angry words. I was nervous to see him after all that we'd said. He had offered to help me pack and move, which was kind but it made me feel as if he were eager to erase the very memory of me.
It had been a week since we last saw each other and I'd left without him knowing in hopes that he would change his mind about the breakup. Safe to say it didn’t work. All it did was make him realise that he had definitely made the right decision.
I was nervous when I arrived at his house and knocked on the door. Seeing his face made my heart swell with sorrow.
“How have you been?” he said as he opened the door.
“Good, what about you?” I stepped into the familiar house, yet it felt so different. An uncomfortable feeling nestled inside of me but I pushed all the negative emotions from my mind and forced myself to be cheery.
“Yeah good,” he said.
I followed him through to his bedroom, it was no longer our bedroom and I felt like an unwelcome stranger.
“I’ve packed more of your stuff but just check that I didn’t forget anything," he said as he picked up one of the boxes.
It was a shock to see my belongings all packed away in boxes. I wanted to unpack everything and resume our life together but the relationship was over whether I liked it or not. And for the half an hour we barely talked. Instead, we busied ourselves with gathering the boxes and putting them into his truck.
When most of the stuff had been packed I searched the house looking for anything else that belonged to me. Maybe I was just trying to waste time because deep down I didn’t want to leave. This had been my home too and I loved it even though there were memories that contained a mixture of happiness, pain, and resentment.
“Alright, it’s all packed up," he said, "you ready to leave?”
I looked around and tried to take it all in because I knew this would be the last time I ever saw this house. “Yes, I’m ready,” I said, giving it one last glance.
The drive to my new house felt quick as our conversations flowed smoothly. We talked about the good times and laughed our ridiculous moments together. We spoke as if nothing awful had happened between us and for a while it felt as if we could be friends. My spirits had lifted but my heart whispered a solemn reminder: he doesn't love you anymore. I tried to ignore it by covering it with laughter and chatter.
When we arrived at my house and unpacked everything we decided to get lunch. I was surprised when he suggested the idea because he was wanting to spend a little longer with me. Not surprising that I was confused by this but happy as I had been afraid at any moment he would leave and that would be the end.
After lunch, we went back to my house and I began to sort the boxes and unpack a few things. As we chatted I could feel moments of tension, sexual tension. I was curious and as the hours passed by I wished for time to stop so I could stay with him in that moment forever.
Though the spark between us had died out a while back something had happened to light the flames of passion between us once more. I was the one who would initiate it. I couldn't help myself, there was something about him that day. Maybe because I knew it was something he would say no to but deep down he wanted it.
I couldn’t help but stare at him as he lay on my bed. He’d been talking about something but I hadn’t heard a word he said. All I could think about was kissing him.
He stopped talking and looked at me, “What?” He smirked and gave me a devious look.
“Nothing, just thinking about stuff,” I said, giving him an equally devious smile.
It was already past sunset, the worry of him leaving before I had my chance to kiss him was bothersome. I needed to do something before it was too late.
“Come here,” I finally said, a little afraid of rejection.
He sat up and cocked his head. “You come here.”
I didn’t move and neither did he. Excitement pulsated through my body. Something about this little game turned me on. Did he feel the same way?
Finally, he stood up and I moved closer to him. Our faces were close but not close enough. “We shouldn’t,” he whispered.
“Why?” I said, pulling him closer to me. His hands cupped my face as we leaned in to kiss. I pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top
“This is a bad idea,” he said between kissing.
“Do you want it?” I asked, nibbling at his earlobe.
I kissed him before he could talk us both out of doing it. His lips had never felt so good against mine. We tore away at each other’s clothes and to his surprise, I had been wearing the matching red bra and g-string he loved seeing me in.
“Fuck, you are sexy,” he said, tracing my body with his fingers. “Turn around.”
I did as he said. He unhooked my bra and slowly pulled the g-string off. I arched my back because I knew how much that turned him on.
“Are you sure you want this?” he whispered in my ear. His warm breath on my neck was too much, I was dripping with lust. I grabbed a pillow and held it tightly. I wanted him more than ever.
“Yes, I want you right now.” I could feel he wanted that too. As I was bent over on the bed, arching my back and pushing myself against him he didn’t dare let himself inside of me. I tried to turn over but he wouldn’t allow it. He wanted to torture and tease me. He ran his hands over my body and down my thigh. He caressed me between my legs, only slightly slipping his finger inside before kissing my neck and letting me feel how stiff with arousal he was. I was thrilled by the pleasure he took from this. But he could no longer take it either.
It was hot, passionate until he finished. And as we lay there, he became distant and cold. Strangely his flaws were magnified by his lack of affection and once more my heart shattered to pieces. He no longer wanted me.