For the rest of the day, I was a shell of myself. I made cup of tea after cup of tea that I sipped while standing around and looking at nothing in particular. I mostly stood in front of my television, watching the news and maybe subconsciously wanting to see Wayne's on the screen. You could say I was stunned to a state of shock. I've slept with Wayne.
Twice.
I kept replaying last night in my head, and my cheeks would flush red from frustration and annoyance at myself. Why was I like this?
Ciel seemed to notice something was wrong. The cat kept meowing and walking around my feet, constantly putting himself in danger of getting stepped on.
An internal battle was happening in my head as I tried to decide if how things were progressing were okay, and another part of my mind was yelling at me for being stupid and blind, causing a buzz in my mind that resulted in a throbbing headache.
Wayne did try to get in touch with me, but I would just put down my phone and watch it ring before picking it up again and scrolling through social media when it stopped. I had to think without Wayne in the picture.
The living room was a mess, my whole house was a mess, but it didn't stop me from just sitting on the couch and doing nothing. I didn't feel like cleaning, I didn't feel like talking. I didn't feel like doing anything. A sigh left my lips when I noticed Ciel was rubbing his body against my legs again. It was around five in the evening now — a whole day wasted lounging in the sitting room and doing nothing but pressing the remote and my phone. I even missed work today to wallow in how stupid I was.
Without a second thought, I bent down to pick up Ciel before sitting him on my lap. I gave his head a rub before returning my full attention to my phone. I rose a brow when I came across an article with Wayne's name on it. I bit down on my dry chapped lip, eyeing the headline before pressing read. I liked reading about Wayne, and all the investment he was making in town as small as this won't be old news anytime soon.
Q: What made you decide to come here?
A: Well, I've had the intention of moving here for a while.
Q: Really, why?
"That's enough internet for me," I decided as I clicked off the article and put away my phone. Ciel was startled when I got up. He hissed at me but licked his paw and continued to follow me around. He followed me into the bedroom, climbing and sitting on the bedside table when I plopped myself on the mattress face first. I licked my dry lips again, thinking about water for a bit but I shook my head before burying it in the nearest pillow. I tried to get Wayne out of my head, but as anyone would guess, I had little success.
"Why?" I asked myself, turning and taking my pillow with it. I was hugging it as I stared up at the ceiling. "He's been the worst to me, so why?" I kept asking myself as memories from the past flooded my mind. Anyone who had someone do what Wayne did to me to them logically wouldn't love the person, even if they did at first. So why did I still have feelings for him? Was it because he promised to change? — No, it's not that. I've never been out of love with him. Even when he was gone for five years I still loved him.
I rolled in bed again, letting go of the pillow before running a hand through my hair. The blue was fading, and my dark roots were showing. I should dye it again.
I shut my eyes again like it would help me focus on not thinking about him.
It didn't work.
When I was in university I remember being extremely protective of Wayne's reputation. When people would curse at him behind his back and suggest he bought his grades, I would defend him. When people accused Wayne of being a snob that did drugs out of sight, I would defend him. I would defend him so much that people started thinking I had something for him. Of course, it was true, but it wasn't a nice thing for people to know when Wayne had to pretend he didn't know me from anywhere. I took the burden of assumption, and Wayne would join to make my life hell sometimes. I was the weird loner that had a 'fag crush' on our year's top student,
It was okay, he was nice when we did meet in person. Or at least that's how I rationalized how he treated me in public.
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"Stop it. You don't have to do that."
"But—" I had tried to talk, but Wayne's frown scared those words way. He was looking at me with such irritation and contempt. My eyes were heavy. I felt embarrassed. I was embarrassing.
"You don't have to do any of that, okay?" he said, and I just nodded along to his words. My voice was gone, and I was trying not to beat myself up over being an idiot. My ears stung. I wanted to cry, but Wayne hated it when I cried so I didn't.
"Look, I'll have no chance to hit you if someone brings it up again, you hear me?" he said with a frustrated look on his face. He sat down on his bed, rubbing his eyes as he let out a sigh. "This is hard for me. I don't want to treat you like that," he said, letting go of his face to stare at me. I was standing by the door, watching him. Our university rooms were small, but Wayne's room was a little bigger. He'd was able to afford the few large single rooms available.
"Maybe I should get a girlfriend before people start getting ideas."
I could take anything Wayne threw at me, but I couldn't take that. I started heaving then sobbing. I heard Wayne sigh from his bed.
"I don't want to, but you understand, right?" he asked as he got up before coming over to me. He helped me to his bed, sitting me down and hugging me from the side as I tried to catch the tears that were leaving my eyes with the base of my palm.
"I understand. It just sucks..." I trailed, and the room fell quiet. The silence was numbing, but when Wayne kissed the side of my eye I felt my face warm up and my nerves start to tingle. With a gentle push, I was lying on the bed with my back as Wayne hovered over me and kissed me.
Things were always like that. He'd get angry at me. Yell a bit, and after a while, he'd kiss, touch, and have sex with me.
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"That's it." I got up, deciding I was going for a run. Just laying around and thinking was doing shit to my mental state and making painful memories resurface. Someone I was functional enough to get into my jogging pants and a loose top. I left the house, locking up before I jogged down the stairs. I slowed down when I noticed a pair of eyes fixated on me from the ground floor. No matter how slowly I climbed down the stairs the person stayed still — waiting for me. My heart got caught in my throat when I realized I couldn't leave this building without walking past Edward.
Edward was one of the few neighbors in this large apartment complex that I could stand. He was nice and helpful. His smiling always made me attempt to cheer up myself. For the longest time, we took walks together, but since we slept together, and I had said Wayne's name instead of his, and extreme anxiety tied with embarrassment had made me avoid him at all costs.
When I got down the last fleet of stairs I walked past him as fast as I could, trying my best not to meet his gaze.
"Hey Johnathan!" he called out, and I just kept walking until I was out the door and on the path to the main walkway. I cursed under my breath when I heard someone jogging behind me, and to my inconvenience, Edward was walking right beside me in no time.
The tall man with pitch-black hair, tanned skin, and deep brown eyes kept looking at me from the side of his eyes like he could read my mind if he tried hard enough. I really wish I could break into a run and lose him, but not only was that rude, but it would also look strange.
"You've been avoiding me," he said making me clench my hands into fists as we kept walking. I didn't deny it, and he just sighed, running a hand through his scissor-cut before looking straight ahead instead of at me. "The one with reddish-blond hair. Is that your boyfriend?" The blood rushed out of my face. Of course, Wayne's been at my pace twice now. Edward must have seen him.
"Honey."
"What?"
"His hair's honey-colored," I mumbled, looking to my side to find Edward rolling his eyes before looking away.
"You could have just told me." But I wasn't telling him anything. He was bringing up points and jumping to conclusions on his own. It seemed he had already rationalized why I ghosted him on his own long before talking to me.
"That's Wayne?" he asked. It wasn't a question. It was more of a statement/accusation. He already assumed it was him. A dry laugh left his lips as we kept walking. He sounded hurt, and it made me feel guilty.
"Interesting..." Edward kept talking to himself, and I returned to not saying anything. If he wanted to grieve about the situation, I wasn't here for that. I didn't want to be here. When I quicken my steps to walk ahead of him Edward quickened his too. I swallowed down, trying not to voice my frustration with this arrangement.
I was pulled from my silent rage when I felt Edward nudge my shoulder with his. I turned to look over at him with wide eyes, and he just smiled at me shaking his head as if brushing a thought of his mind before looking away.
"You finally looked at me properly," he said, burying his hands in the pocket of his jogging pants. "I really like you, you know," he said, and I didn't say anything in reply. My face felt warm and my heart rate hiked. "I don't know how he treats you, but I'm sure I could do so much better if you gave me a chance. You slept with me for a reason, right?" he asked, and when I didn't say anything in reply he just looked away. He didn't say anything for the rest of the distance back and forth.
When we got back we walked into the building together and I left Edward on his floor.
"I'm sure I could do so much better."
I swallowed down, searching my pocket for my key before taking it out and unlocking the door. I guess his words kept swimming in my head because they were true. Anyone at all would treat me better.
For the period I was at university I felt ugly and useless, and Wayne not wanting to associate with me only solidified that belief in my head even if him staying clear of me had nothing to do with my looks. All that changed when I graduated and didn't see him again. I entered the dating/hook-up scene in desperate need of someone to touch and warm me up even if it was for a brief few minutes. People thought I was attractive, and the more people said it the more I believed it. People wanted me — people fell in love with me, but I was still wedged deep in mud and unable to forget Wayne. I couldn't return their feelings. I felt bad, and I ghosted them.
Sometimes I felt like Wayne.
And maybe sometimes I enjoyed feeling like Wayne.
I used to do a rehearsal of how I'd react if I ever saw Wayne again. I thought about how I'd flaunt how many men I slept with. I thought about how I'd make him work for even crumbs of my affection.
But he was here now, and I didn't do any of that. In fact, I'd walked face-first into him like a desperate person. It was all fantasy to boost my confidence and make me less resentful of how lovesick I was.
"Urg." I held my head, making for the kitchen to fix myself something to eat. All this thinking was making me realize how easy I was. Wayne knew I was easy. How else would you explain him showing up out of nowhere and being confident that I would take him back if he just asked nicely and said an apology?
He never worked for anything.
I never made him work for anything.
Shit.
I blinked when I heard my phone buzz from the living room. I had left it on the couch before going out. I left the kitchen to pick it up but once I saw the name written in bold on the screen I ignored it and left for the kitchen again.
Maybe I shouldn't pick Wayne's calls for now.