Momma always used to tell me that the loneliest part of life is not comforted by money or jewels but by the people that make your heart warm. The sad part about that statement is the fact that no matter what I’ve attempted to do my cold heart refuses to go beyond a lukewarm stage.
I woke up in a strange bed, in a strange room, only to quickly realize that I must’ve fallen asleep while working with Trace on our so-called “plan” to destroy the Lauren Justin phenomenon. I pull the covers over my body, trying to restore some warmth. No matter what, I feel like I constantly have the chills, I constantly feel like somebody has locked me in a refrigerator and left me to die.
Trace walks into the room, carrying a cup of coffee and a box of tissues. “I wasn’t sure if you needed these,” he hands me the box, “you went through three of them last night alone.”
“Thanks,” I state. I can still feel the tears threatening to flood the gates again. Last night was the first night that I’m pretty sure I cried straight through my sleep up until I had run out of tissues. I quickly shake my head and place my hair up in a bun, convincing myself that I will not wallow in self pity, I will not let this bitch bring me down.
He sits down on the bed, handing me the coffee, readjusting himself so that he’s comfortable with his legs crossed and back up against the headboard. “You know, Liz-bo, I always wanted to get into a bed with you,” he winks, “just never thought it’d happen like this.”
I slowly sip the coffee, thankful for it’s warmth. I can feel it as it travels down my throat and passes close enough to my heart to radiate a little bit of heat to the most needed area of my body. I quickly notice that I’ve spilt a little on my shirt, a shirt that clearly does not belong to me. The size, smell and design have no resemblance to anything I would wear. The Carolina blue covers all of the cotton and the smell of Armani cologne intoxicates me. I pull my knees close to my body and continue to inhale the fragrance that is on the pajama pants as well.
Trace clears his throat and immediately I jerk my head up, feeling pathetic and lonely. It’s Christmas morning and I’m not even at my own house. I haven’t gotten my traditional Christmas breakfast, nor have I opened gifts with my family, and the only desire I feel at the moment is to hide under the covers again and skip Christmas completely.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Trace quips, “And the answer is no. We cannot skip a Hall Christmas.”
I look up at him, “She would understand, you know. It’s not like she’s totally oblivious to what is going to happen today.”
Trace looks out the window, suddenly overcome with thought it seems. “It just doesn’t seem like he would have the balls to do it, Liz. I mean, I could see him doing it in private, but in front of all of our families, I just don’t know.” He scratches his head, pondering the outcomes.
The metal picture itself is enough to make me want to vomit. I hurriedly run into the bathroom, throw cold water on my face in attempts to wake up from this nightmare.
Trace walks past the door, shaking his head in the process. “Liz,” he states, “you gotta shower, we’re leaving in a half hour. Your sister brought over an outfit to wear, I’ll bring it up and leave it on the bed.”
I shut the bathroom door and look down at my phone that I left in there from the night before. I can already see the red message indicator flashing like crazy and I continue to feel my stomach turn to slush as I bring up the message screen.
I’m so nervous, you have to wish me luck- J
Good fucking luck you moron. I hope you all the best when it comes to trampling on the fragile thing that beats inside my body.
Liz, am I doing the right thing? I have to be, right?- J
I continue to scroll through the messages until my eyes catch sight of an old saved message.
Iwm fslovefsaoo youuuuu- J
The drunken text was months ago, during one of his and Lauren’s “breaks.” He and Trace had gone out that night and accomplished only one thing the whole night, getting absolutely hammered.
As I look back on the text and the ramifications after that when he came over to my house and hooked up with me, I can’t help but secretly smile at the way things had gone that night.
He had come over drunk as all, complaining about how Tiny doesn’t know how to drive on the line, not in between.
“Fuckin’ payin a blind ass fool, Liz.” He states as he trips into the family room and lazily falls onto a couch.
I walk around, readjusting the pillows and my lack of pajamas. I’m simply covered by the huge FutureSex/LoveShow tour shirt.
He looks up at me, giving me eyes that I haven’t seen in years. He lifts his hand up and yanks me down so that I’m sitting on top of his lap. “You know,” he states as he starts to place kisses on my collar bone, “I’ve never had better than you.”
I shake him off and regain my composure as I roll my eyes at him, “Sure, that’s why you asked her to move in with you,” I stammer.
“Don’t mean fuckin’ shit when we ain’t sleepin’ in the same bed.” I turn to him with a shocked expression on my face as he continues, “that’s right, bitch don’t believe in it, thinks it ruins our sex life if we sleep together every night,” he fights off my hold and pulls my face to his.
His lips are like fire, his hands are like ice, the mixture together sends jolts throughout my body. I can taste the alcohol all over his mouth but he doesn’t seem to care, his tongue forces it’s way past my locked lips and I can’t help but give in. I’ve waited for years since the last time this has happened and I just cannot wait any longer.
Realizing that I am no longer in my mother’s house, he says, “fuck it, I’ma fuck you silly.” And with that he pulls my shirt overtop my head, exposing my already perked breasts. His hands move to massage the mounds, feeling, squeezing and pinching so that I’m constantly moaning in pleasure. I can already feel his bulge on my thigh and immediately I know that this probably won’t last all that long.
He does the unthinkable, though, and pushes me off of his lap, lifts me and places me on the warm carpet, his eyes continuing to take in my entire body. He gently begins to place kisses all over my stomach and breasts, making his trail down to the area that needs him most. I know by the feel against my panties that I’m already soaked for him but he gently pulls off the cotton fabric that lies against my area. I eagerly help him with the removal and shocks of pleasure come over me as he places his palm on top of my clit.
“Justin,” I pant, “I need you.”
“Im’a take care of you girl, don’t worry,” he slurs. He takes his time and I close my eyes, only to open them having them roll to the back of my head as he kisses my clit, torturing it with his mouth.
“No, Justin, please.” I pant. He hurriedly takes his pants off and moves so that he’s placed right at my entrance. He surges in and immediately I feel waves of pleasure running through my body. It’s unlike anything I could ever imagine. Our bodies mesh together so well and every time he hits that spot it feels like lightening in a storm. I can’t think and I can’t stop screaming and moaning. I open my eyes to find him looking down at me with hungry eyes, he takes his hands from the ground and places them on my face, “Look me in the eyes, I know you like this.”
No, I fucking love this. I can feel the ball of nerves start to convulse and immediately thousands of pounds of pressure it feels like surge down around him, sucking him. He begins to pant and grunts loudly, feeling his own release. He looks down at me and begins to kiss me with such passion and lust, he gently pulls out but continues his attack on my mouth.
It feels so right, yet so wrong but he tears us apart only for a moment to speak words that I’ve wanted to hear for so long, “I love you.” In that moment, he takes my mouth to his again as he picks me up and leads me upstairs. I get the feeling this night may never end.
The cold reality is that it did end, with her calling his phone in the early morning to check and see how he was doing. He quickly gathered all of his things and left hurriedly to rush back to her, leaving me alone and helpless in this world all over again.
I turn the shower on in the bathroom, attempting to forget that night or to at least push it to the back of my thoughts until the day is over. The hot water drops against my skin, still not altering the coldness around my heart. The tears begin to fall freely and I stand there, helpless because I know what is going to happen today, no matter how hard I fight to stop it.
He’s going to propose to her, in my mother’s house, in front of all of my family and friends. He’s going to do it without remorse because he doesn’t understand how badly he’s hurting me. He’s going to do it because it wouldn’t matter if my heart breaks just as long as his stays in tact. He’s going to do it because I let him, because I love him.
