I listened how he pulled out of the driveway and speed down the lane like a madman. After a moment I stand up from my sitting position and walked over towards her sleeping form. I smile down at her drunken state, one leg on top of the sofa while the other's feet is set on the ground. She couldn't have been intoxicated, at such a level that her world started spinning, after only three cold ones, could she?
I bend my legs and scoop her up into my arms, her head laying against my shoulder. Her soft breaths fanning my cheek, sending chills downwards and making me crave for her. Momentarily the memory of earlier resurfaced. I can clearly recall the feeling of being temporarily paralyzed and even the sensation of feeling sick to my stomach; when Auntie P called out his name.
How could I have forgotten that she now belongs to somebody else? Genevieve Roberts would never again be mine, yet merely moments before she had actually been mine and I could breathe for the first time in years.
I looked down at her perfect face as I make my way up the stairs. At a relatively slow pace I enter the guest room where so many memories floods me at once. We've made good use of this room way back when, I don't think that a single area had gone untouched.
Gently I lay her down on the bed, but she swift in her sleep and trap me within her embrace, as much as I would love to stay I can't - she's still getting married to another. "Don't go Misha, please stay. I'm sorry, I love you," she mumbles in her sleep.
My heartbeat jumps into overdrive. What even is she dreaming about… me? How can an engaged woman dream about another man? "P-Please Misha, stay with me. Please don't leave me, please? I'm sorry!" The clear painfulness in her voice sprouts like it had grown a set of wings. I notice how a single tear make its way downwards. I lean in closer and wipe it away with the pad of my thumb. My heart sinks into my feet.
At first glance she seems to be doing fine, while mentally she's barely holding on. The next thing that cross her lips, I know can't be true, I mean she's an engaged woman so how could it have only ever been me. Surely that fiance of hers can fill her up just as magnificently and be of pleasurable use to her. The mere thought enrage me. I pull away from her harshly. I need to get out of here, I need to get away from her. Me being here with her wasn't my smartest move.
Genevieve's eyes flew open as she jolted up into a sitting position, her eyes nailed on me like super glue. Unexpectedly she jumped out of the bed, rushed forward and throw her arms around my body. Standing here with my arms limply at my sides, confusion wash over me. Why is she hugging me? What is happening right now?
I put my hands up between us and push her slightly away. "Is something wrong?" she questions me as if it's the most normal quarry on earth. "Why the fuck are you pressing up against me?" I ask as I drag my fingers through my hair. "I've missed you so much and... Kyle, can't make me feel the way you do," her answer makes me take a step backwards and look down at her in disgust.
What I'm about to tell her now, might come around later on; in the form of regret. "We had pool sex, get over it. I'm not your boy-toy and let's be frank here; you're nothing special. Go fill up Kyle's dick; like I care!" As these words cross my lips, my heart sunk deeper then the ground level of the house. The way her eyes tears up doesn't help either. I compose myself, not wanting to let loose of the bottled up emotions.
Quickly her sadness turns into hot rage. Genevieve shove her hands into my chest making me topple backwards. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM, YOU PIECE OF SHIT…!" she bellows, all the while, tears streaming down her face. My heart clench as our last memory made its appearance in my mind. Even back then I haven't seen her this angry before.
She picked up a photoed frame from a small dresser and threw me with it as a scream ripped through the air. My skin came in contact with the frame, the shattered glass slicing through muscle and skin; leaving behind a deep gash in my arm. I press firmly down on to the wound, blood seeping through my fingers. As much as I want to damn her, I have nobody to blame but myself.
Uncle Timothy stormed into the room, a panicked expression flushed over his features. He rushed in between us and held his hands up in a surrendering way. "Genevieve I need you to calm down," her father tries his best. Her demon had freed itself and it is boss. Desperately he gave a step closer to his enraged daughter. His hands still up, pointing out that he means no harm. She looks like a lioness that's going in for the hunt, just waiting for the right moment.
Dizziness quickly digs her claws into me as the bleeding don't seem to ease. I slip, as one of my knees buckles under my weight. Drenched in a cold sweat, shivering. I look up at her, our eyes lock for a brief moment but it was all that was needed to calm her down. When she took knowledge of the state that I'm in and my blood smeared hand, she falls to her knees weeping heartrendingly. Her father look at me from over his shoulder, taking notice of me for the first time since he'd entered the room. He rushed towards my side and bellows just as I faded into unconsciousness: "Honey, call the ambulance… NOW!!!"