Chapter 3. Rethinking the Mess

Two hours later! 

Once again, I am tickled from my sound sleep by the savage rays of the summer sun scorching my face. I coerce my orbs to peel, though unwillingly. If I could, I would choose to bask in this peace forever. I feel reborn. Totally reborn. My plump lips were curving up, a beautiful smile urging its way out to add more light to this room, but the screeching sound of the door blocks it up at the throat as the reminder of what has brought about all this sudden glee in the last couple of hours saunters in. 

My ex.

 I jerk up slowly to avoid irritating my muscles further, and curl up under the duvet. All the memories of what we just did this morning flows in, tickling my head with a rhapsodic bang of all sorts of sentiments. It was a moment of weakness, but it brought about all the old feelings and cravings like we never stopped loving each other. It pulled us off a cliff of the rapture of emotions and tossed us into a heap of unquenchable desires. The spades were so strong, threatening to consume us into ashes if we dared to curb them. 

We submitted our all. It was a moment of pure euphoric pleasure. We swam to the moon and explored cloud nine. It was surreal. It was magical. It was terrific. A beautiful sweet sin! That thought alone hangs a very heavy curtain of flown on my face, kicking aside this basket of glee aside, and diving into an ocean of knocking sentiments, and so many questions. I am not really justifying myself, but maybe I can, and argue that given my situation, it was perhaps okay for me to forget about my morals and dignity for a short moment. It was alright for me to feel all that strong desire; the burning heat of affection in the midst of this quagmire might have lured me to drown into it all. It was okay for me to surrender myself like that, especially because I had been in dry land ever since he left, and him showing up at the exact moment of confusion and hopelessness topped it all. 

But him? Why did he succumb to that temptation? Why did he let that happen? Why did it feel like he was lost in that sin with me? Like he relished every bit of that moment? Why did he ignite that fire to start with? I understand that temptations such as that could be hard to resist sometimes, but he is married for crying out loud! That alone should have knocked his sixth sense! 

Gawking intently at him, I browse the layers of his eyes one by one, searching through them, hoping to try and understand why he allowed himself to fall into that clustered rapture of sinful pleasures with me—searching for any tinge of remorse, or regrets about what we have done. I try to read his eyes, like I did back then. He doesn’t object my mission, and I dive into his beautiful pools, dancing through their intense sparks that threaten to cage me into them forever. 

A decade of pure lull and scrutiny goes down, but I still can't find what I am searching for. Nothing close to regrets. If there is anything I decipher from his glue-some orbs, it’s the unfamiliar curtain that has cloaked that magical glitter they always had. And his face… that signature charming smirk he always wore isn't there anymore. I haven't seen it since I woke up to his strange presence this morning, but maybe he is saddened by the state he found me in. But… back then, he had it on despite anything. Does my situation worry him this much, or did something change over the time? 

“I made breakfast.” He utters, his eyes still holding mine. I discharge a breath, breaking the stare challenge, or so I thought, because I find myself gazing back into them again. 

“I don’t recall knowing you as someone who could set foot in the kitchen.” I state, and it’s the truth. He urges a slight grin as he speaks, shifting in his posture. 

“Well. That was back then. I am different now.” He says in a tone that doesn’t sound so good to me. And him evading my gaze tops my curiosity. 

Of course, he is different. He is married. But shouldn't that be more reason as to why he hates the kitchen more so now? Or maybe I am getting it all wrong. 

“What changed?” My sincere intent was to mind my own business, but the curiosity is itching me in a way I can not explain 

“A lot. A lot.” The last part came out in a whisper, like he didn’t mean to repeat himself. 

Is anything the matter with him? Where did the smile disappear to? Why doesn’t he seem happy? Or isn't he? "Let's have breakfast before it gets cold.” He speaks before my curiosity can parade itself again. 

I should let him be. I am swimming in a tangle of problems myself. I have my own dilemmas to deal with which I have no way of handling at all. I can not be of any help to any burdened soul right now. My own basket of problems is overflowing. And him, he just added more weight to this heavy load. I slept with a married man, and worst of all, I enjoyed it like I had all the legal rights to it. I am still getting a tickle of fresh longings just by the mere thought of him. 

Ooh, Liam. What did we do?! 

“Here.” 

I didn’t know I was lost in thoughts until he waved the bathrobe in front of my eyes as he crouches beside me. I take the robe, and wait for him to give me some privacy to dress up. But I doubt he is even contemplating looking away. He is ogling me like I am some piece of meat he wants to devour. Well, he did that already, I'm extremely sore down there from that. Was that not enough? 

“Liam?" I call, snapping him from his ogling state. I may be right or wrong. But I feel something odd about him. All is strange, from how he he came here. 

“Sorry. Just that, this reminds me of our old times.” He says, meeting my eyes. 

I swallow hard, my mind playing a recap of our sweet memories together - the joy, the laughter, the burning love, how we understood each other. It was bliss being with him. But why is he even going there?