You Left Me

I saw her as she walked past, a cellphone glued to her ear. "I'm in DC for a design conference," she said to someone on the other end. I saw her, and I knew it was her. I could feel her. She didn't see me, so I slipped out from behind my booth and followed her. Out of the conference hall, through the long and packed lobby, and to the bank of elevators. There I pulled my hood over my head before following her inside. I stood to the far left as she stood on the right, still talking on her phone.

What the fuck are you doing, a voice in my head chided. She fucking left you and never contacted you again even when she said she would. I turned and faced the wall of the elevator carriage, resting my forehead against the fake wood paneling. Why am I here? She's been gone from my life for months now. Nary a word from her, not a single text message or voicemail. If she hadn't sent that weird message about numbers right before she went dark, I'd have assumed something was wrong. But nothing was wrong. Not really. She chose to leave me, even after she said she loved me. It's probably something that happens to thousands of people every day of every week. There is nothing unique about our situation, but knowing this doesn't alleviate the knot in my stomach or the emptiness I felt when she disappeared. She used words like forever, and always, and I was stupid enough to believe she meant them.

My hands were cold and shaking slightly. I balled my fists up and shoved them into the pockets of my jacket. The carriage made stops at several floors, and from the edges of my vision I could see she was still aboard. I turned slightly, intent on revealing myself to her now that we were alone, when I saw her smiling into that goddamn phone. I couldn't. I didn't know what I was going to say or what I was trying to accomplish. How do you tell someone just how much you're hurting when you can't quantify it yourself? And then the carriage came to a halt and she stepped through the sliding doors. I lunged for the DOORS OPEN button, jamming it repeatedly as I leaned out to watch which direction she went in.

The hotel is massive. Every floor has twists and turns, and if I wanted to talk to her I'd have to get out of that fucking elevator. My feet wouldn't listen, and I watched her, frantically trying to make myself move as she turned a corner. The moment she was out of sight everything started working again. Fuck you, feet, I murmured. Before the doors could close I hopped through and jogged down the corridor to peek around the corner.

By sheer luck she was still standing outside her room fumbling with her keycard. "Hang on, Joy," I heard her say as she lowered the phone and concentrated on opening the door. Should I go to her? Offer to help? Surprise! It's me! I followed you from the conference center! No, it's not creepy at all! FUCK. There is no good way to do this, I suppose I should just... Before the thought could fully coalesce, I found myself walking down the hall towards her as she entered her room. I raised my hand to call out her name, but my voice was suspiciously on strike. The heavy door closed with a swoosh, sliding shut right as I placed myself in front of it.

Fuck. The door was one of those heavy oak jobs, likely original to this historic hotel. It's beautiful, and I love it not just because of the craftsmanship, but because it prevented me from seeing her. I needed that buffer. I'd walked all the way across the hotel and spent several minutes climbing 40 stories in an elevator, and I still had no idea of what I was going to say. What a strange sensation, to be tongue tied at that moment. I had spent months thinking about the exact words I would use given the chance. They were eloquent, and were I to deliver them properly, they'd have a rhythm, be poetic even. Now that I needed them the words had uncoupled from each other become a jumbled mess in my mind. So I stood there, likely slack jawed, my hand poised to knock on that solid wood door, and I was unable to even remember her name.

This didn't stop me, and my knuckles rapped loudly to announce my presence. The shaking was back, though not just in my hands but vibrating throughout my body. It took her an awfully long time to open the door. Maybe she used the peep hole and she saw it was me, and she's avoiding opening it. Or maybe none of that is true and my own nervousness skewed my perception of time. Whatever the truth may be, I stood impatiently, doing my damnedest not to turn and flee down the hallway.

And then I heard it. That first schwoop as the spring loaded deadbolt slid from its chamber. And the sound of the door chain being unhooked. A hesitant hand on the knob, slowly turning it until it could turn no further. The carpet scraping against the door sweep in a loud, steady shhhhh. And her gasp when she saw me standing here.

"Hi, Katy." It's all I had at the moment, and so it's all I said. Her eyes were tired, though not from seeing me, I don't think. "Hi," I repeated, this time reaching my hand out to hers. When she extended her fingertips so they glanced the back of my hand, I froze. It was such a tender gesture, one I hadn't expected. No words were exchanged as she stepped back and held the door open so I could walk through. Those words? The ones I'd lost? They came back. Or part of them anyway. "You left me." It tumbled out like an exhale, like air released after you'd held your breath for far too long. "You left me." A little softer that time, less rushed, with sadness curling the edges.

Katy didn't say anything. Of course she didn't. She never had the right words when things were wrong. Instead her fingers reach for mine again, and I pulled from her, unwilling to let her have an easy out. I wanted to turn and run and never see or think about her again, but my heart tells my brain fuck you, and instead of heading for the door I found my lips pressed against hers. My fingers ran the line of her jaw, holding her face gently as though she were a doll that might break. Things changed, and it quickly became a hot, frantic kiss. Every scrap of emotion I've felt directed towards her or not, surfaced and exploded from my pores. No longer did I caress her face; my fingers were firmly intertwined in her hair, pulling and tugging to keep her close to me. My tongue pushed into her mouth, searching, angry and probing.

The kiss wasn't enough. It was empty, and I wanted to be full. Stepping back, our lips parting last, I grabbed her by the forearm to pull her deeper into the room. In a single motion she was on the bed, on her back staring up at me. I wanted to see remorse, maybe even fear in those eyes, but all I saw is lust. I felt my own eyes uncloud, but only momentarily. Soon I was engulfed in sadness, insecurity, anger at myself. I looked at Katy and I saw none of the remorse I hoped for. In my deepest fantasies she'd beg me to take her back, crying, pounding her fists on my chest, and I'd fuck her, tell her no, and leave. Now all her eyes shone was desire. It angered me. Goddamn, did it anger me.

I needed to leave, if only in the service of self-preservation, but I could not. I found myself atop her, my fingers fumbling for the buttons on her blouse, one at a time until I reached her skirt. Fuck. That skirt. It hugged her hips just right, and when she laid flat it exposed her prominent mound. That mound I've kissed, touched, and worshiped so many times before. My hand slid down her skirt to the knee length hem. I toyed with the fabric before running my fingertips up her leg, melting when I realised she had on thigh-high stockings. She was so warm, and her skin was soft, and I remembered every millimetre of the flesh beneath my fingers.

My lips moved to her neck and up to her ear lobe, that spot guaranteed to make her shiver and moan. "I'm going to fuck you," I whispered forcefully so my hot breath tickled her ear. She bucked beneath me, another moan bursting from her lips as she pulled an arm tightly around my neck. It's then I realised she hadn't really even acknowledged my presence. She hadn't said my name or hello or anything at all to me. Fuck her for that. My hand shot out from under her skirt and to her neck. The other flew above her head, a thick mess of hair firmly in my grasp. Swiftly I swung my leg over to straddle her, my strong thighs keeping her pinned firmly to the bed. That dominant instinct was kicking in. Gone was the insecure woman who doesn't know what she wanted to say to her wayward lover. I knew the exact words I would say and the exact words I would hear from her lips.

The look in her eyes shifted from desire to inquisitiveness. Fuck her for that, too. "You left me." Goddammit. That's not what I wanted to say. My hand loosened at her throat, and I let go of her hair. I sat back, resting lightly on her hips, sighing to hold back how tired I was. Tears started flowing down my cheeks and dripped onto her exposed stomach. Try as I might, I couldn't stop them. My emotions overran my instinct, my rational mind, and they did it because of her.

When she sat up slightly on her elbows to reach for me, I melted into her. My head was bowed, and I blocked out every sound, every stimuli I could to focus on the thumb stroking my cheek. Tears continued to roll down my face covering Katy's fingers in the salty fluid. I looked at her, and I didn't see lust, only tenderness and a softness I'd missed so much. It's a look that ignited my desire with such force it knocked the breath from me. I needed her, now.

I lifted myself off her body, grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head as I kneeled over her. Just enough to wedge my leg between hers. The need to dominate physically was always part of what Katy and I did, but at that moment the objective wasn't dominance in the ways we'd known it. I wanted her feel the things she did when she loved me, and to thank her for that brief moment of compassion I just felt in her touch. All of my confusion and indecision faded, replaced by a hot burning arousal. I could see it building in her eyes, too, and it roped me in and pulled me closer until our lips met once again. It was electric, that kiss, like we'd been thrown back to when things were just right for us. The sensation of her mouth moving against mine, how her lips parted to welcome my tongue, the warmth of her breath as it spills out all worked in concert to drive our arousal even higher. I reached down to lift her skirt and pull her panties to the side. My leg slid towards the warm valley between her thighs, stopping right as her skin met my blue jean covered knee. I hadn't even started applying pressure against her sex, and already I could feel the heat pouring out. Slowly I pressed my knee inwards, my kisses becoming more frenzied as my leg warmed and grew wet with arousal.

I was unprepared when she tugged her hands away, and they slipped from my hold with ease. "Alex." It's the only word she'd spoken, and she said my name in a long sigh as she wrapped her arms around my neck. Her voice was tinged with need, but not how it used to be. I could hear the difference in her inflection, pitch, the way the word fell almost aimlessly from her. I wondered if she remembered the first time she said my name. I did. It was said as I handed her a cup of coffee. She looked down at my namebadge, and I looked up at her strange grin, and she said "thank you, Alex." There was a pause between "thank you" and "Alex," and she put a kind of spin on my name as it rolled off her tongue. How is it she said my name with more emotion before she even knew me than she did just now?

Katy coaxed an involuntarily shudder from me when her fingers started to massage the base of my scalp. We were falling into all the old habits, and it felt good. I responded by running my hand down to her open blouse, finding the front clasp of her bra and unhooking it. Fingers slid under the silken fabric and across her breast, my palm making circular motions over her hard nipple as she moaned into my mouth and arched her back into my hand. The urge to have that stiff peak between my lips was overwhelming, so much that I broke our kiss and travel lower until my field of view was dominated by her breasts. They make me hungry, greedy even, and I could spend days focused only on them. I leaned in and nuzzled the soft flesh before extending my tongue to draw a lazy trail up to her nipple. It was hard and stood proudly, little goosebumps forming on the skin surrounding as my breath glanced across. I looked for only a moment before enveloping the nipple, areola, and as much flesh as I could, sucking it deeply into my impatient mouth. Slowly I drew backwards, maintaining suction until my lips were wrapped firmly around her sensitive nipple. There's a fine line between too much and just right, and I was aiming for just right as I gradually altered suction, waiting for that tell-tale moan, reveling as her hands gripped my head and she grinded against my leg.

"Don't..." Katy gasped when I begin to pull away, her fingers interlocking firmly behind me. The pleading in her voice shot tingles of arousal down my spine. She was never insistent in this manner, preferring to follow where I lead. It was something new amongst the familiar, and it added a dimension of unpredictability that made my heart pound. "Turn to your side," she commanded, shifting her body sideways. I comieded, though I kept my leg ensconced firmly between her thighs.

On our sides we came together like pieces of a puzzle. Both curled into each other tightly, arms wrapped around bodies, legs intertwined. My mouth quickly found her nipple as I begin to knead her breast softly. I was in love with that moment and how she fit so perfectly against me. Katy writhed and moaned and I could smell her arousal, the scent triggering a cascade of memories. Our embrace was tight. I slid my arm around her waist and held on even tighter as I drove my knee against her core. We formed a kind of rhythm, my leg bounced in time with her moans, a crescendo of sound and movement building higher, higher, higher. She was close, and as much as I wanted her to come, I didn't want it this way, so I slowed down and pulled my leg back. "Don't..." but I ignored the request this time, letting go completely.

The fabric of my jeans was soaked through and not just at my knee. For the first time my attention was drawn to my own arousal when Katy's hand strayed between my legs. There was a real urgency, a momentum I was afraid we'd lose, so I pushed that ache to the back of my mind as I pushed her hand away. All I wanted was for my fingers to find her, something they did quickly enough. I inhaled sharply at how hot her skin was, so slick with cum my fingers glided frictionlessly up and down her sex. With each stroke I teased her entrance, wetting the tips of my fingers and dragging them back between her folds and up to her clit.

I could feel her body start to tense, and the memories of how she looked when she came flood my thoughts. Down and back, down and back, my fingers pressed deeper each time until two are knuckle deep inside as my thumb rubs circles over that hard, sensitive bundle of nerves. I looked up, but she had her head thrown back. Moving up the sheets until we were face to face, I tucked my arm under her to cradle her head, keeping our foreheads pressed together. That was always my favorite way to fuck her. I often craved a connection that I could only find when I had my fingers inside of her, watching as she curved her body into me and let loose those low, guttural fucks and Alex... Now I was searching for something familiar, something that would tie me to her, and I didn't see it. I saw eyes blanketed with lust, and I heard moans and pants, but the emotion is gone. And then I realised I didn't have it either. Not that way, anyhow. I had so many feelings about Katy's departure, but they left me when I started crying on top of her. Now all that remained was the same thing she felt. Lust, desire, arousal. And it filled me up, it gave me what I needed.

"Is everything ok?" I heard her ask, as I realised I was no longer moving my hand. I looked at her with a soft smile before plunging my fingers harder and faster than before. I added a third finger, moaning at how her walls squeezed down hard in momentary protest at the new intrusion. Her panting increased, and that hot breath comes in staccatoed bursts as her body tensed. I redirected the pad of my thumb to cover more of her clit, alternating side-to-side movements with the slippery wet in-and-out of my fingers. My hand tangled in Katy's hair, and I hold her close to me so she couldn't snap her head back as she started to climax. "Don't..." she moaned, though the sentence was cut short, a "stop" missing from the end. I kept my fingers moving, understanding just how close she was when she embraced me so we both held each other tightly. Her heaving chest was pressed against mine and the heat of her body washed over me as I drew her towards the end.

And then I felt it. Katy's head jerked back into my hand, and she gripped me tightly as her body shuddered and quaked. The walls surrounding my fingers contracted and released over and over as my hand was coated in her wet arousal. "Fuck," she moaned loudly as she thrust finally into my fingers. It's how she punctuated every orgasm. "Fuck" Said long and drawn out and meant to convey satisfaction. We relaxed our grip in each other's hair simultaneously, and Katy kissed me lightly on the lips with a smile. Still breathing heavily, her eyes were clouded in a haze. Slowly I pulled my hand from her body, and I considered tasting her just one last time, but that felt too intimate. Intimate in a way we weren't anymore. Instead I turned over and wiped my hand on my jeans, and stared up at the ceiling, pleased I made her come, but unsure of what to do next.

I couldn't say how long we laid there side by side, the silence finally broken as she whispered, "I left you," and after a pause, "I'm sorry." I could feel her turn to look at me, eyes focused on the side of my head. "It's ok," I replied, reaching for her hand. Goddammit. That's not what I had planned to say. I'd waited months to hear her acknowledge that she'd hurt me. But once we were together, and she was saying it, and it all seemed so unimportant. As I turned my head to look at Katy, I smiled and squeezed her hand before sitting up slowly and easing my legs off the bed to stand. I saw her open her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. That was probably for the best. We'd achieved some kind of unspoken resolution; at least it seemed like we had. And right at that moment the past was behind us. I didn't feel it weighing on my heart.

Before I could change my mind I stood slowly and walked to the door, looked back at her and waved, "Bye, Katy." She smiled that soft, sweet smile. The one I'd think about when she was gone to the grocery store or when I was at work. The one that was just for me. My hand faltered when I reached for the knob. That smile. It's the tether I was searching for. The sign she felt something for me. But it was stretched so thin, and holding on to it would have been foolish. Instead I took the memory of Katy on that bed smiling that smile, and it replaced her strange text message as our final moment. With a new memory tucked away, I turned the knob and stepped out into the quiet hallway, happy, unburdened, full.