SAFE (mxm)

Chapter 35. The Worst Week (David)

   (Present time)

   I adjust the treadmill to 7.3 mph and keep running, evening my breathing. The sweat is trickling down my face. I peal off my dump t-shirt and toss it on the floor without slowing down, peeking at the monitor in front of me. My heart rate is 160 beats per minute. I reach for the console with the intention of increasing the speed to 7.5 mph, although, I know it is useless. 

   It doesn't matter how hard I strain my muscles. Pushing mercilessly my body to the limit makes no difference. It still aches for him. I can't eat. I can't sleep. The waiting is driving me crazy. It's painful. One day I wake up full of hope; cook breakfast, humming a favorite song and dancing around the kitchen; work hard; go to bed early and smile before falling asleep. The next day I am desperate; roll between the sheets till noon, procrastinating all my tasks; slam the doors in frustration and finally doze off with all my clothes on, on the sofa, in the early hours, swearing that I won't pick up if he calls. 

   It has been a week. The worst week of my life. If this is love, I don't want it. I was better off without it. Staring at the phone in anticipation is not fun. Neither is waking up in the middle of the night with a raging erection and zero desire to touch myself because it is not the same and I would hate the fact that it is not his hand, but my own. I look at the mirror and see his face. I gaze at the bathtub and all the memories of him, embracing me in a similar one, instantly surface in my dizzy mind. Daydreaming, staring at the walls and ranting on about how awful unfulfilled promises are is now an usual part of my day. I am pathetic and I hate it, but there is no going back to what I used to be.

   "No!" I hear Sarah's stern voice and withdraw my hand from the touch screen. She relentlessly commands, "Stop! Thirty five minutes of running are more than enough. You've been working out for nearly three hours. If you collapse on the floor, I'm not dealing with it. You weight a ton and I am not a nurse. Get down from there this instant!"

   I reluctantly slow down to full stop, drag my feet to the mat where she is lying on her stomach, and flop heavily on my back next to her. 

   She waits until my panting calms down a bit and hands me a bottle of water with an accusatory expression. "Davy, honestly, I'm starting to think you need a babysitter to make sure you don't do something stupid. Drink!"

   I wipe my face with a towel before emptying it, pretending not to notice her questioningly raised brow.

   "Well?" Sarah closes the magazine she's been reading in annoyance and looks me in the eye. "Why is this self-destructive behavior?"

   "Since when are workouts considered self-destructive?" I retort. "I've heard the exact opposite. Exercising is good for health."

   "Don't be a smart arse," she grumbles. "You are crossing the line and we both know it. He hasn't called yet, has he?"

   "No," I mutter. "But I don't give a fuck."

   "Oh yeah? Keep repeating it and I might actually believe you," she chuckles. "Dave, you're such a baby. It's been only a week. The man wrote he had urgent business to attend. He might be abroad after all. He will call. You'll see. Why else would he leave you that note?"

   "Because he is a nice person and didn't want me to be disappointed when I woke up." I shrug my shoulders. "Because he considered to see me again initially, but then changed his mind. Or simply because he's a liar."

   "A liar, huh?" she laughs out. "Do you realize that you're going through all the classic stages of falling in love - idealization, expectation, doubt, despair, anger. Where is the hope, though?"

   "I was hoping yesterday," I frown. "Today is different."

   "My poor baby!" Sarah crawls closer and wrinkles her nose. "I would really like to hug you, but you're all sweaty and sticky. Go take a shower and I'll cuddle you and cook us lunch."

   "Wasn't this supposed to be a therapy session, Dr. Andino?" I smirk. "I am not paying you to roll on my gym's floor and eat my food."

   "The therapy session was from nine to ten and you chose to spend it trying to puff and pant your lungs out," is Sarah's snappy comeback. "I expect some gratitude for dedicating two more hours of my precious time, completely free of charge, to watch over you while you were wrecking that unfortunate training equipment."

   "Of course I appreciate it," I grin and wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. "Although, I am pretty sure that you're still here only because of Anthony. Admit that you have a crush on him."

   "Get off me," she screams through laughter and squirms out of my grip, crawling on all four to the door. "Now my new shirt is smelly too. Of course, I have a crush on my dear thorn ball. He is so much easier to talk to than you."

   We joke and giggle while walking down the stairs from my all glass, rooftop gym. I am almost happy again when she disappears in the kitchen and I step in the shower. The cold water raises goosebumps on my hot skin. I hate cold water and usually wait for it to heat, but this time got distracted by our conversation.

   "Take my hand! Take my hand! Please, take my hand!" I chant, tears streaming down my face. "I did not want to frighten you. I won't do it again. Please! Please!"

   The boy is staring at me. His pretty eyes are wide and full of horror. He doesn't utter a sound, hanging over the abyss of darkness. His hand, gripping the wooden railing, is trembling. His white knuckles are slipping away. Why isn't he trying to take my outstretched hand? It was my fault. This happened because of me. I cornered him. He was shouting, perhaps, to make me go away, but I didn't. 

   I lean over and grab the back of his shirt the very second his hand looses strength and lets go of the railing. It takes only a blink. One moment I am squeezing the thin fabric and the next he is gone in complete silence. It takes some time before I hear the splash. I don't see him. I see nothing. Only darkness.

   "Davy!" The hard slap on my face takes me out of the stupor. I find myself on my knees on the floor, half covered by the shower curtain which is torn down along with the rod. The warm water is pouring over me, but I know that the wetness on my face is caused by tears. I barely catch my breath. Sarah grips my forearms, trying to pull me up on my feet. "I told you it was too much. You'll harm yourself with excessive training. I'll lock that gym and throw away the key. I'm not joking. So stubborn! Get up, you bear! Take me for an example. I am chubby and happy. No one wants to tie me up and fuck me all night long, but I can live with that. The focus is on live. You scared the shit out of me..."

   "Sarah," I barely utter, but it immediately puts an end to her rant. It is probably my face. She can read every expression unambiguously.

   "What is it, baby?" She gently strokes my cheek, her voice full of concern. "What happened?"

   "I think, I killed someone," I whisper.

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A/N

Hello everyone at the end of chapter 35.

Thank you for reading and supporting! ❤❤❤

Did you expect that David would read these unexpected flashes of the past this way?

Are you surprised by how deeply he is affected by their meeting?

How long do you think will take Ryo to call?

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Thank you!

Love: Anny