Fool's Love

7. Fallout

The door to Xavier's apartment is rust brown. A bronze plate above the peephole carries the number two. I knock once, and a guy opens the door. His cyan blouse is unbuttoned, revealing a hairy torso. He looks over his shoulder and says, "Did any of you ladies buy a cute redhead for tonight?" A hazy cloud of smoke leaks outside, and even though I haven't entered yet, I'm already finding it hard to breathe. Xavier appears behind the foreign man, a scowl on his lips as if to say, 'What are you doing here?'

"Mum gave me your address, and I wanted to discuss something with you."

Xavier places a hand on his scraggly-haired friend's back. "Why don't you go back to the party?"

The stranger looks from me to Xavier, shrugs, and then returns to people who greet him with loud cheers. Xavier meets me in the hallway and closes the door behind him. A bored expression consumes his visage. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Us."

He smiles and touches my chin. "What about us?" Xavier then tugs my lips apart and runs his thumb over my teeth as if he's thinking about kissing me.

We need to end the game we have been playing for years, but my throat closes before I can say anything. Xavier's chalk-white shirt is buttoned halfway; fine blonde hair covers his chest. The worst part of trying to break up with him is I want him to fuck me. I want to feel his pulse. And I want to be nothing more than a wet, steaming mess when he's done.

These dirty thoughts won't help me to walk away from our relationship. To regain control, I need to leave and clear my mind before I can have a proper conversation. "You're busy tonight, so maybe I'll stop by some other time."

"Stay."

The one word runs through me, mixing with the blood that fills my veins, and my body stiffens in response.

Xavier leans against the door and reaches behind him to twist the knob. The door opens. Dim white light sprinkles across a purple carpet. Men and women gather by the sofa in his living room, more than a dozen glasses of alcohol spread out on the glass table in front of them. When one of the guests, a young woman whose breasts are barely restrained by the low neck of her dress, calls to me, Xavier says, "He's not here for you."

He holds my hand and leads me down a short corridor before pushing me into a room. "Wait here." The door locks, and I'm alone. I hear Xavier's steps as he rejoins his guests. His laugh tickles my insides as I realize he still sees my existence as some dirty secret he has to hide. I investigate his room, trying to figure out how he has changed since we last met.

A bulb glows dimly beneath a glass dome over my head, and the walls are a lighter shade of purple than the carpet outside. The floor is made of sturdy wood that doesn't creak while I pace. On his dresser, I find the blue opal stone I had given him on his fifth birthday. I remember how he had scowled at his present and placed it on the table without any trace of being interested in keeping it. But he has held onto it much longer than any other present. I run my finger over the smooth stone with an appreciative smile.

Outside, one of the guests tells a raucous story about a woman named Lillia, who likes to spend time with a man named Mania. She spreads her legs, and the man puts his dick inna her; she cries so loud they can hear her in Manillia.

I hear the low rumble of Xavier's laughter. I lie on his lilac comforter, waiting for him to return so we can talk.

***

It is well after midnight when he enters the room. I'm sleeping when I feel Xavier's hand slide under my shirt and rub my abdomen before unbuckling my trousers. I open my eyes, and he looms over me.