Temptress

Chapter 8

“How often do you see him?” Ned asked, darkly.

“I don’t know. Whenever we have band practice and I guess once or twice a week,” Maggie answered, trying to play down the seriousness of the situation.

“I see. Do you do anything?” 

“Not since I’ve met you... only kiss, that is it I promise.”

“Oh only kiss,” Ned mimicked.

I knew it was a mistake, allowing my self to be so vulnerable around someone. For once his paranoia had appeared to be accurate, maybe my paranoia, and excessive insecurity drove to this conclusion, or maybe my paranoia isn’t paranoia, and I’ve always been right, he thought to himself. 

“Stop it,” Maggie said, crying into her hands.

“After all I’ve done for you,” he seemed to be saying this to himself more than directing it at Maggie.

“Done for me? I have been good to you as well,” Maggie sobbed.

“Only to make me worse,”

She didn’t respond, and continued with her whimpering, probably alligator tears, Ned thought.

“So does he write for the paper or something?” Ned asked, again on the interrogation. He was now obsessed with learning about his arch nemesis.

“What?” Maggie asked, confused.

“His job!”

“Oh. He interviews bands and stuff, and writes about pop culture,” she said, weakly.

“Great. So that is how you get awesome tickets all the time. Did I ever have a chance?”

“Yes! How could you even ask that?” Maggie asked, disappointed at him once again putting himself down.

“Because I can,” he said childishly.

“You were, and still are good enough,” Maggie said.

“You know I’ve always been too scared for any kind of commitment, but with you I was different. For once I felt like everything was just as it should be.

“So what do we do?” Maggie asked.

“Well, do you like him still?”

“Yes,”

“Love him?” Ned continued.

“Yes,”

Ned sighed in defeat, and buried his head in his hands. After a few quiet but tense moments he raised his head, this time he was glaring at her full of anger.

 “I don’t want you to ever talk to me again. Don’t text, call, write, or anything else. Just fuck off for good. Then we will both be happy. Okay?”

Maggie’s crying intensified as she tried to place a hand on Neddy’s shoulder, but was brushed away by his, “Please don’t,” she whimpered.  

Ned’s only response was dead silence, as he stared straight through her as if she wasn’t even standing in front of him.

He gestured toward the door, emotionlessly and she turned and slowly walked out. He could see her trying to frantically wipe the tears from her face as she disappeared.