But thoughts like those were ludicrous, and immature. I was nothing more than a bit of amusement and arousal for a night. Wanting more was a precarious desire.
What seemed like hours was actually a quick fifteen minute drive. Not even locking the door on my car, I fled to my apartment and up the stairs. Vincent would probably be late I realized, he always was.
Busting through my apartment door I made way for my bedroom. Changing rapidly into shorts and a t-shirt. I put my now unruly sex hair into a bun and stuffed my dress of infidelity in the bottom of my laundry hamper.
Moments later, I heard Vince call me from the living room. Damn me for giving his stupid ass a key.
“Hey, be there in one minute!” I called back to him. I looked down at my leg, and there as if to expose my unfaithfulness, the mark Riccardo left behind protruded like a splash of paint against of clean canvas.
I tried looking for my other sweatpants, I needed to hide this. Vincent walked in my room.
“Didn’t you hear me call you?” he asked, obviously annoyed.
“Uh, yes. Sorry. I was looking for some sweatpants.” I laughed.
Vince walked towards me and put his hands around my waist. He was a little shorter than me, as I was tall for a female. “I’ve missed you so much babe, how was your day?” He asked, somehow still managing to sound condescending.
“It was good.” I replied merely. Suddenly it didn’t feel so good being in his arms, it felt a little empty.
He kissed my neck, and I flinched. Blazing flashes of Riccardo hit me hard.
“Aweh babe, is something wrong?” he asked in the sort of tone you use with a child, or a dog.
“No, I’m fine. Just tired.” I assured him.
Vincent started kissing my neck, my collar bone. I felt annoyed by his very presence. I pushed away. “I’m tired I said.”
He laughed mockingly. “Aweh, my poor baby is angry with me?”
“Fuck you.”
I don’t know what it was, but suddenly that word had become my choice of answer for the night.
I walked to my drawer and started rearranging things on top, annoyed with Vincent and his immaturity. He came and put his hands on my thighs, slowly moving his hands up my shorts.
“For such an angry little girl, you must not be too unimpressed with me, you’re not even wearing panties. You’re probably even wet for me already” He laughed. What an egotistical prick. I almost wanted to respond by telling him “Oh don’t be so brash, some other man gladly has possession of my panties right now, they were absolutely soaked for him.” I didn’t of course.
“Don’t touch me.” I said firmly.
He didn’t listen, but proceeded to move his hands beneath my clothes, touching my bare ass, and moving his fingers between my legs to the intimate places still moist from Riccardo’s handiwork. He kept kissing the crook of my neck sloppily. I pushed him off yet again. “I said don’t touch me!” I yelled.
A look of shock ran across Vincent’s face, shortly fading into anger. “What the fuck is your problem? I went out of my way to come see you tonight and this is how you act? You’re so fucking ungrateful.”
There were so many things I wanted to yell at him in that moment, but I kept quiet. I could feel tears forming in my eyes. I was so miserable, so lost. I felt dirty. But not because of what I had done, but because of how he made me feel.
Vincent took an exaggerated breath and said ‘Okay, are you done with the temper tantrum?” He put his hands on his hips.
I could have knocked his teeth out. Had he always spoken to me this way? Why was I clinging to this? I studied him for a moment. He was nothing. Simple looking, simple minded, and mediocre. I turned away and walked out of my room. I was cutting this night early, something I should have done a long time ago.
“What the hell happened to your leg?” Vincent asked in a disgusted tone.
I had completely forgotten about the mark Riccardo left behind.
“I don’t fucking know.” I said defensively. “Can you leave now? I have to work in the morning.”
Vincent grabbed his jacket which I didn’t even notice he left on my sofa and shrugged it on. “How about you let me know when you stop PMSing?”
He muttered a few more profanities before dispersing the room entirely, slamming the door behind him for emphasis.
I let myself fume for a few more minutes, slamming cupboard doors as I looked for my own wine. However, an annoyed knock on the wall from my one of my neighbours kindly reminded me that I was in an apartment building. I made sure to be very quiet from then on.
I found myself dosing off before I knew it, and asleep. I dreamt. I dreamt vividly of Riccardo, his lips, his eyes...those eyes. They were the most beautiful I had ever seen. They were prismatic and intense... ravenous and treacherous.
The next morning I woke up to several text messages on my phone, all from Vincent. They ranged from “Ur so immature.” To “i’m srry.”
What the hell did I see in this guy?
Eventually, I found I was getting annoyed with myself. Here I sat for over two years... chasing and longing after this complete idiot.
And in the end, I still wanted to be with him. Even in that moment.
After my regular morning routine, I found myself calling Vincent, and apologizing for my behaviour. He was more than pleased with my revelations.
Just as everything seemed to be falling back into its coordinated place, Riccardo dominated my mind profoundly.
I wanted him.
I wanted him badly.
The day revolved around thoughts of Riccardo. From the moment I reached my dead end job to the time I reached my shabby apartment again... I was in lust with this man.
However, by the time eight o’clock rolled around, Vincent had successfully managed to grasp all my thoughts. He had told me that morning over the phone that he would be coming over again, due to the problems from the night before. But this time, I was less interested in making myself pretty for him. In fact, I didn’t even do my hair. I simply waited for him. He was supposed to come at 8:30... This evolved into 9:30.... And eventually past midnight. He didn’t call. Nothing. So, I called him... and woman answered his phone, one who sounded as though she was under the influence of many things. (Not just alcohol, but Vincent’s devastating ego as well.)
“Hell-o?” She answered. A drunken giggled followed closely behind.
“Hi, is Vincent there?”
“Who’s dis?” She asked “Vincent is busy right ‘bout now...