Capricorn Season - Jimmy Page

Chapter 31

"Yeah?" 

"Why didn't you tell me before?" 

She sighed. I looked up at her to see her brows drawn together like theatre curtains. Her eyes evaded mine. 

"I don't know...I guess I didn't want to upset the balance. I was having such a good time with you that I didn't want you to go." 

"You don't have to lie." 

She sighed again. Her brows relaxed and gave way to preformance that lie behind them. 

"I didn't want to blow up Robert's spot. I've never been in this postion. I didn't know how to balance it." 

We fell into a silence. Neither of us knew what to say, I guess. We'd never been at odds this way. 

After a while of languishing in the silence I slumped into her lap and fell asleep.

-  

She left before I woke. I was tucked snuggly into the duvet. I looked at the clock before fighting my way out of the covers. The guys would be back soon but I was happy to be alone. 

I didn't know what I wanted to do more-- scream at him or fall into his arms. I dreaded seeing him shortly.

What would I say? What could I say? He would just look at me with those beautiful eyes and whisper something charming in my ear and whisk me off again. That's what he did every time. Every time he looked to another girl or came back too drunk. He just smirked with those terrible lips and apologized with empty words. I always fell for it. Always. 

I had been here so many times. I could recognize these familiar feelings, the way they sat uncomfortably in my body. It was not the first time I'd been hurt like this, not even by him. I was filled with the same aching hope that always came after finding this out. 

This time I really opened myself up, put myself on the line. I told myself he was different, that it could be different. 

I knew it was a lie. It was a delusion I conjured up to justify another cycle of bullshit. 

There was a knock at the door that interrupted my thoughts. I hoped it to be Gwen and went to answer it. But it wasn't. It was the last person I wanted to see.

Tiffany was standing in my doorway wearing a sweet smile. She was wearing a sparkly red halter top and a tiny pair of shorts. She looked so innocent, so unaware. I hated her for it. 

I imagined his hands on her body. The sweat dripping from his overheated frame onto hers, the sound of his voice bouncing off the walls and catching in her ears. How beautiful he must've looked to her. 

I felt angry that she would even look at him. How could she? He was mine to admire, to adore as his features were adorned with pale sunlight filtered from hotel windows. He was my temporary lover.

I had foolishily hoped he would be more.

Quite foolishly. 

I was consumed with anger. It must've come up from the floorboards---I felt it start in my feet. Thick, heavy heat traveled through me. I felt adrenaline in my blood like so much water. It reached my scorching chest. My skin was red hot with rage. It worked through me with a frightening speed. I lurched at her. 

I threw her to the ground, dug my nails into the soft flesh of her tawny bicep. I didn't feel sorry. I felt vindicated, like a fucking warrior. 

Loud howelling bounced off the walls. Someone was screaming. I didn't know if it was me or her. The pain my throat told me it was me, but her jaw hung open like a ---, so maybe it was both of us. A bead of sweat rushed down my spine and landed at the waistband of my cotton shorts. I was burning.