Page 69 of All That Remains
I smelled the dirt and leaves around us, and hints of Mila's perfume. It didn’t occur to me he’d kissed her only moments before. In the rose-tinted haze of my mind, his lips had never touched another. It wasn't for me to tasteher, it was for her to tasteme. I'd been there first and would be there long after, or so his touch assured me. Now he kissed me like I had nevernotbelonged to him.
“Rome…” I marveled, warm all over and fatigued. Peppering his lips. Relishing the intense intimacy and abandon.Oh God, he was kissing me.Even with Mila so close at hand. In fact, because of it. It was an apology for subjecting me to her unannounced visit. Neither of us had anticipated her showing up. Neither of us had anticipated betraying her either.
Two years of estrangement undone by one decisive act. I wasn't fooled though. I knew his touch, however relentless, imparted lies. It was always so. It told me no one had usurped me, despite her being mere yards away. It told me he’d never gone, although I’d spent so many nights alone, aching and clinically depressed. On the mend. I was in no position to pretend 2016 hadn't happened, no matter how much he willed me to.
We took a breath and I struggled to stand upright; knees atremble. All I could hear was the rustling of our clothes and the evening wind. He slammed my hips into his. His tongue slowly reclaimed my mouth. I parted my lips, allowing him to indulge like it was the first hit of a drug he’d rehabbed from. When Ibroke the kiss and tossed my head back for air, he sucked my throat like a madman. Teeth raking and breaking the flesh until I brought my mouth to his again. His groans made my guts flip with the anticipation of being undressed.
“Rome…”
He rubbed the back of his knuckles down my hardening bulge, before relinquishing all pretense and grabbing it full-on. My breath hitched. I sank further into his palm, grinding with a whorish abandon.
“Mm, baby…” he sighed, clutching me until it hurt.
Close to losing it, I grasped every part of him I could get my hands on—neck, biceps, waist—nearly lifting him off his feet with two fistfuls of his ass. Finally, he grabbed either side of my face and gaped, rather deliriously.
"Don't..." was all I could mutter. "Rome?"
He didn’t answer.
"Rome...c’mon…don’t stop...please..."
He slammed his forehead to mine. After lying against me in indecision, he kissed me more savagely. I stumbled back into the slope, allowing him to take control, although his attention had become punishing.
“Hey…?” I whimpered.
He grabbed me by the scalp and bit my lip with such violence I cried out. I was so dizzy I could hardly see straight. My wail seemed to jar him back to reality. As we returned from the darkness of the last few moments, his grip eased. He brushed our noses together and whisperedRaferepeatedly, toying with the sound in a tempered elation. Like he was breaking a hundred-year vow of silence. I was hesitant still. As always with him, the euphoria faded. I was beginning to feel picked over and confused.
In a flash, he snatched me up by the collar. Two fistfuls of my shirt clenched between his hands. They were atremble with rage. The eyes had become slits.
"Fuck you..." he spat.
I swallowed thickly, unsure of how to respond. How long had he been holding that in? Who exactly had it been aimed at? Though he seemed on the verge of exploding, he never did. His fists slowly unclenched my shirt. He smoothed it absently back into place, before staggering away.
***
Later when I arrived home, I didn't bother calling. I was too freaked out. He was pissed at me for whatever reason, and I didn’t feel like deciphering it through the prevarications of polite discourse. He’d simply pretend it never happened like he always did. Worse, I could see him regretting our reuniting at all. Already I could see the text flashing across my screen.'Today was a mistake,'it would say.'I can't do this. I can't see you anymore.'
For the next few hours, hysteria overtook me. I panicked anytime my phone rang, dreading the pending breakup. I feared becoming Piper 2.0, unable to ever see him again, simply cut off with a single cold text. Unlike her, I wouldn't survive it.
The only way I could sedate myself was to drink. So I got wasted and called him like it was 2013. He didn't answer and my panic deepened. I called several more times in a row, all to no avail.
I put on music to supplement the alcohol, and took several shaky breaths until the shivering stopped. "Oh What A Night" by The Dells cast a spell. I lay back across the center of my bed in total darkness, the bottle of tequila at my hip. The trumpets transported me to the 50s. A dimly lit club in Harlem at closing. I could smell the ammonia cleaning solution. Thelustrous wooden chairs were already atop the tables. I was seated at the bar, unwilling to part. I might’ve stayed all night if I could, despite the grim barkeep shooting me angry glances as he cleaned the glassware.
My phone rang and it was him. Thank fuck. The club disintegrated and I looked around to find that I was back in the Hills, lying in the unflinching shadow of my own room.
"Hey..." he said. I hadn't heard his voice through a phoneline in years. "I’m so sorry I couldn’t answer…Mila was still around."
I opened my mouth to reply, but shut it again. I hung up and got stupidly emotional. Within seconds I called back, no more prepared to speak than before, but I was anxious to have him on the other line again. The second I heard his voice, I wept.
"Hey..." he said softly. "I’m so sorry, sweetheart." I threw the bottle of tequila against the wall, and it was so solid it didn't shatter. Instead, it left a crater. Unable to get ahold of myself, I hung up.
Patsy Cline's "She Got You" ran its course and deepened my sorrow. Before I could dial him back, he texted me a smiling poop emoji. I hated him. I laughed and wiped my tears away. He answered my call again. It was 3AM, but he kept answering anyway.
"Rafe..." he said at last. "I know."
Tears slipped from the corners of my eyes into my ears.
"You don’t have to say a word…" he whispered. Finally, he told me he wanted to see me again, and it was all I needed to hear.
