NOTHING BUT A BAD TASTE. (✓)

13. OLD WOUNDS

( unedited )

MAYA'S HEAD WAS SO FIRMLY IN the clouds as she let her bare, brown skin be showered with a wet, cold spray. She was holding her body scrunchie, but was hardly putting it to any use as it dripped out soap.

"Boo?" Ebén could sense that she had spaced out after his calls out to her went unanswered. He had a slight feeling it was to do with good-for-nothing ex given that her face was all stony-eyed and she seemed to be thinking long and hard about something. Something that had her deep in thought.

She didn't answer him, which kind of felt like, she was ignoring him on purpose, "Maya?"

She was so faraway that she didn't even feel the water pelts ripple against her skin, her contemplative glare staring at nothing but thinking about someone. That someone was like a view in the distance, that seemed to grow bigger with each mental embark she took. She had tried to think about other things, but somehow still ended up here; thinking about him.

Always.

How could she not? He was like a tornado, affecting her in more ways than one and leaving nothing but chaos and equal confusion beneath her feet. The grown-up thing to do would have been to admit that the mental scar of Reuben — was something she had erased from her memory right at the point when it ended, but that was so very far from the truth.

The beginning, middle and end of their relationship, she thought about, re-opening her old wounds.

But, they weren't just passing thoughts (like what she had for breakfast, or what kind of dress she'd usher the day in with). She thought about whether her miscarriage had been her fault, and whether she could've done more to compel Reuben to stay.

Maybe, she could have prevented him from finding coital comfort in the body of another woman.

Maybe, she could've just... done more.

The question that plagued her mind the most wasn't either of the three, it was, in simple terms:

Why had he decided to return, to the town where he'd left her broken, after spending years away? Maya knew, even without him verbally pronouncing his intentions; that he had come to stake his own claim — treating her merely as property he could dispose of and subsequently acquire as and when he wished.

But, it had been a damn long time since she had been his. She had been young and impressionable then. She was now firmly aware of her worth, of the things she wanted, needed and deserved after spending years undoing the scars that was entirely his doing.

She had been deliberate in her journey to heal, making sure that she did everything in her power to forget about him — and she really had.

Until, three days ago, and now the man (if she could call him that) who she resented and despised with her entire being was all she seemed to think about.

Bastard, she grated in a curt, drawn-out whisper, not conscious of how loud she had said the word.

"Maya?" The strong rap of Ebén's knuckle against the glass drew her out of her reverie; and into his concerned eyes, which were now greyish-brown.

Hers were heavy with concern and worry too, hoping that the baggage of her ex — that weighed her down like an anchor, wasn't so visible. She felt like it was so clear on her face and in the way she moved, and was convinced Ebén could read into it too.

"Sorry," She shut off the shower that sprayed out water and made it harder to hear him, "You call me?"

"I did. Like, 3 times?" The sound of the bristles from his toothbrush going over his teeth had now replaced the loud sprays of water from the power shower. The door was partly ajar; so he saw everything — but for the first time in weeks, sex wasn't on his mind.