(Two Months Later)

“Uhhh,” she moans underneath me, gripping me hard.

I swear this wouldn’t happen. I swore I was done. I swore up and down on my mother. And yet here I am. You might be asking yourself what happened that would cause me to take back everything I said to her and be here at this very moment on top of her. I can sum up the answer in two words. Absolutely nothing.

I lasted a whole three days before crawling back to her apartment and… reconciling like only she can. But she’s Meg. What am I supposed to do?

Her moans become louder as she thrusts her hips up at me widely like an animal in heat. Normally when I’m having sex, I can balance the actual doing of the action with my thoughts like what performances I have scheduled, what interviews I have to do, when my next fuck is. Not with Meg. All I can concentrate on is her body underneath me, and on some occasions on top of me.

I can barely hold on long enough to give her an orgasm before collapsing myself on top of her. I swear the girl has some of the greatest stamina for sex I have ever met. But that’s all she has. After sex, it’s another story. I know you’re thinking nothing has changed. But you would be wrong and right. Everything has changed and nothing at the exact same time. Not complicated at all.

Finally Meg collapses underneath me, allowing my release to take over. She barely gives me a moment before pushing me off her. Her famous cigarette makes its way to her mouth and she takes a drag. She’s out of bed in a flash and tosses my clothes at me. Before I can udder a word, she’s locked herself in the bathroom.

No longer are the long conversations after sex, even if they were curt. I can barely spend more than two minutes with her besides getting laid. Which every guy should be jumping at. Every guy wants to be in my shoes. Except for me. Because I’m in love with her.

Every time I close my eyes I see her. Every damn time. And I hate and love her for it at the same time. I get up and knock on the bathroom door, “You want to come out of there?”

“Don’t you think if I wanted to come out I would be out there?” her voice echoing through the bathroom door.

“Have you talked to Aiden yet? You know he called my apartment the other day looking for you. I guess he must have gotten my number from your address book or something.”

Still no response.

“Do you know when he’s getting married? Because when I talked to him you hadn’t responded to his wedding invitation. He thought maybe you forgot or your invitation got lost in the mail.”

Sure I thought it was weird that I was getting calls from a guy that I had only met once, but his concern for Meg appealed to my compassionate side and let’s face it, I have always had a soft spot for her.

The door swings open suddenly as Meg appears and brushes by me quickly, putting her clothes on. I watch her put on her shoes and I reach out to touch her but she pulls away, “Don’t,” she warns.

“You want to talk?” I offer.

She laughs bitterly and shakes her head, “No thanks Dr. Phil.”

“I don’t know why I bother coming to see you anymore,” I throw out, hoping for some piece of emotion from her.

“Like I care.”

She swipes her keys off the dresser and heads out the door, leaving me sitting there naked on her bed.

_______________________________________________________________________

I slab paint onto a canvas and turn up Nirvana, allowing it to blare out the stereo. It is nice to have money in these instances, having your own private studio to paint and vent is always a nice thing. Daddy’s version on his love bestowed on me.

I have yet to speak to Aiden. In some ways I feel like I’m being unfair to him. He can’t possibly imagine what it’s like to stand in my shoes and watch him get married. In that regard, it’s not his fault. On the other hand, I feel so betrayed after he promised I would come first in his life. And we all know when you get married, the wife comes first.

My paintings are abstract, though it’s gotten me in trouble before. When I was in high school, the local art teacher took a look at my art and suggested therapy. I remember holding the note in my hand as tightly as I could until I got home and set it on fire in my tree house in the backyard.

The principle eventually called my mother but she just laughed it off, saying it was a ridiculous idea and I was fine. I should have guessed I had nothing to worry about, mom would never let a physiatrist within a foot of me. Not when I was poised to go to an IV league school. All she ever told me was I was going to go to a good college. And I did.

“Getting everything out?”

“I’m fine Alex.”

She pulls up a vacant stool and sits down next to me, “Were you with Adam today?” she pries.

“Adam this morning, Justin this afternoon.”

“You sure get around,” she responds sarcastically.

I roll my eyes, “Whatever Alex. Like you aren’t doing the same thing.”

“In case you have been missing these last few weeks, you haven’t exactly been miss Mary sunshine. Something is going on. Maybe something with a guy… or a certain brother of yours. You know he called me to see how you were doing.”

“I’m just tired Alex. That’s all.”

She sighs, “That’s what you say every day.”

“Well I’m going to keep saying it,” I reply frustrated, throwing my paintbrush down.

“Bad day?”

“Not funny. Is there a reason why mom sent you down here?”

Alex hands me a sandwich, “She sent you some lunch and to tell you that your dad’s friend is staying over at their house and they wanted you to stop by and have dinner.”

“I don’t think so,” I respond, wiping my hands off from the paint.

Alex laughs, “That’s what I told her you would say. But she insisted you would want to be there because the guy was someone you liked.”

“Oh yeah?” I reply sarcastically.

“Yeah, some guy named Myles.”

“Myles Callahan?” I ask, turning around.

“I don’t know, she just said his first name. Didn’t your dad used to work with him when we were kids?”

I scrub the paint of the brushes furiously, “If it’s the same Myles. He was a partner in dad’s firm. He left when I was sixteen to work at another firm in Texas.”

“So are you going to have dinner with them?” she asks, examining my paintings that line the walls.

I shake my head no, “I’m busy tonight.”

“Doing what?”

“Anything else,” I reply with a forced smirk.

“Anti social huh?”

I take my smock off and throw it to the side, “I’ve earned it Alex.”

________________________________________________________________________

“I just don’t understand why she doesn’t want me,” I say, zipping up my pants. Maybe this isn’t exactly the right person to ask but if anyone can shed light on the situation I am more than happy to get another perspective as to hoe Meg’s mind works.

Dr. Philips rolls her eyes way too dramatically to be considered unbiased to the situation, “I think it’s time you saw other people. It would be healthier for you.”

Okay, never mind. Anyone else’s opinion, “I see other people. I just fucked you didn’t I?”

She smiles and comes over to me, buttoning my shirt, “Yes you did. This girl you are seeing is not good for you. Maybe you should stop seeing her altogether,” she hints.

It’s my turn to laugh, “I tried that, it doesn’t work.”

“Maybe you just need to try harder. If you need anything you know I could be there for you,” she says seductively.

“Thanks, but I’ll be fine,” I choke out, reaching for my coat and pushing her off me to her obvious anger.

Dr. Philips folds her arms over her chest, “Then I guess I’ll see you next week.”

“Great,” I say, pulling my keys from my pocket and heading out to my car. I hop in and drive home, pressing the code to the gate and parking the car. I head up the steps to the door to see Meg sitting in front of it. My jaw drops to the ground as I stare at her.

“Take a picture, it will last longer.”

Typical. Can I say anything without her smart mouth kicking my ass?

“What are you doing here?” I ask her, have concerned, half trying to see up her incredibly short skirt until I notice her tear stained face. It’s one I’m not normally accustomed to and as usually she’s trying to cover it up.

“Can you just let me in?” she says with attitude.

I hesitantly put the keys in the door and open it, “Go ahead.”

I drop my stuff in the hallway, “How did you get past the gate anyway?”

“I memorized the code last time you punched it in.”

She walks in and immediately goes up the stairs. I follow her and watch as she curls up on the bed into the fetal position and doesn’t move. I stare at her for a moment, “Are you alright?”

She shakes her head no.

“What happened?”

She just shakes her head no again.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ve never been okay.”

“Do you want to talk about it? Because I’m here for you if you want to talk about anything. Anything.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m more than sure. I would rather you just not talk,” she bites back.

I take off my shoes and throw my coat to the side, gently sliding onto the bed carefully, “Do you want to spend the night?”

This time she nods, closing her eyes. I cover her with a blanket, “Everything will be okay.”

“You know nothing about life,” she remarks, pulling the blanket around her.

I chuckle, “I know more than you think. My life is just as fucking complicated as yours if not more. I have a lot of shit to deal with.”

“No you don’t.”

“How would you know?”

“I know,” she says, quietly brushing away a tear subtly.

I lean over to her, “Did a guy do something to you?”

She remains still and just bites her nail, which might as well be a confession, “You just tell me who hurt you and I swear I’ll kill him.”

Meg sniffs, “Just stop alright? You are not my boyfriend. I don’t need you to be my knight in shinning amour.”

“Whatever,” I argue, getting more frustrated by the minute.

Meg shifts to get more comfortable and I hand her a pillow for her head, “Have you talked to Aiden yet?”

She turns over, “I can find another place to crash,” she warns.

“Then why didn’t you?” I question, awaiting the answer eagerly to see what excuse she comes up with.

She pauses for a moment, “Night.”

“Night,” I respond, flicking off the light and watching her relax.

I just lay there, wondering what the hell she’s been through to have her on my doorstep when her voice breaks the silence, “Thanks for letting me crash here. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“No problem Meg.”