Pillow Talk

Chapter 18

One Week Earlier

It was always Nixon Ford's motto in life to live everyday as if it were his last. The rebel in him always believed in that.

Until now. It seemed life was out to fuck him over and suck whatever strength he had left in him. At least this was what he believed as his eyes focused on the woman standing in front of him.

The woman he once loved with all his heart.

Two years ago, Ava King was everything Nixon Ford could ever want. And then she left, taking everything he ever had with her.

"What are you doing here?", Nixon couldn't even recognize his own voice as he spoke. He sounded detached and distant.

"I-uhm, I -", Ava stumbled over her words as she ran a hand through her blonde hair. Nixon's eyes followed the movement. Her hair was shorter and straight touching her shoulders. Two years ago, it had been long and curly.

Nixon exhaled deeply, trying to reign his emotions in. Some part of him had always wondered what would happen if he ever saw Ava again. But he'd never actually thought that it would happen. Not after the way she'd left him.

"I needed to see you. To explain.", she finally answered, making him clench his fists.

With narrowed eyes, Nixon stared her down,  "That's it? Is that all you've got? You show up uninvited to explain? Explain what exactly Ava?", her name left a burning sensation on his tongue.

Ava put her head down and Nixon didn't miss the tears gathering in her eyes. He waited to feel the guilt for making her cry but it never came. All he felt was anger.

"Non posso farlo adesso.", he whispered to himself but Ava heard it.
(I can't do this right now.)

"I always hated it when you did that.", she spoke softly.

Nixon eyed her, "Did what?", he asked, momentarily forgetting the situation.

Ava rounded the couch to stand directly in front of him, "Spoke in Italian. I never told you but it really annoyed me because I could never really understand it no matter how much I tried."

Taken aback, Nixon didn't know what to say. He never realised that during their relationship. Speaking Italian always came naturally to him and his family. He always believed that it was romantic and intimate. But to know she never liked it, made him wonder if he ever really knew her at all.

Clearing his throat, Nixon stepped into his kitchen and poured himself a glass of whiskey. After the day he'd had, he needed something to numb him.

"I see you're still at it.", Ava said as she followed him,  standing by the entrance way.

He gave her a blank look, wondering why he was still even listening to her.

"Crime fighting and mafia bosses. You're all over the news. I'm really sorry to hear about Nicolas' wife."

Nixon's fingers tightened around the glass. He knew she was referring to his clothes stained with blood. But he couldn't help but think that she said it to belittle him.

"Since when do you give a fuck?", Nixon gritted out bitterly. He'd never spoke to Ava like that before but at this point his anger was out weighing everything else.

Ava eyed him in disbelief. This wasn't Nixon, her Nixon.

"You've changed.", she uttered softly.

Nixon snorted, "I wonder why.", he spoke sarcastically, taking another sip of his drink. It wasn't numbing his emotions like he wanted it too.

Nixon places the glass back on the counter and turned to face Ava, "You still haven't answered my question, what do you want to explain exactly?"