Wish We Never Started

19

ONE MONTH LATER

Sofia knocks the wine bottle off of the coffee table, crouching down between my legs.

"Tell me how much you missed these," she says playfully, pulling her shirt down to tease me with her cleavage. She gives it a shake and then crawls up my naked chest to kiss me.

Kissing Sofia is weird, but normal at the same time. It's like doing something that you've neglected for a while – it comes back naturally in time.

I forgot how passionate she is, how she goes from zero to one hundred in three seconds. Just moments before this, we were sitting on the couch talking about what to order for dinner.

I pull her shirt off while she kisses me, exposing her breasts, which are large and fake – her ex paid for them, she'd routinely remind me.

"I missed this," she says, feeling me through my sweatpants. I've come to the conclusion that's a lie, because she hated my guts for the better part of a month.

"You missed me, huh?" I ask, kissing down her neck to eventually reach her breasts. I stop when she tugs my hair, something that always drove me the wrong kind of crazy.

"Get the condom," she demands, tying her hair up into a high ponytail. One thing about Sofia is that she does not play.

I reach over into the side table drawer, feeling around for a condom, but I can't find one.

"Shit," I mumble, turning on my side to look. There is nothing but an empty drawer.

"I'm out," I tell Sofia, collapsing back onto the couch slowly.

"The fuck, Gabriel?" Sofia stares at me, her face twisted in disgust, "how do you not have condoms? You're a single man in his twenties."

I shrug and lean forward, placing my elbows on my thighs in defeat.

"It's been rough the last few months," I tell her, "maybe sex wasn't really on my mind."

She scoffs like I'm crazy and looks the other way, haphazardly pulling her shirt back on.

"Not for me," she says with pride.

And this is the part where I cannot fucking stand Sofia. The part that I don't miss.

"Wow, really? That makes me want to fuck you even more!" I say sarcastically, watching Sofia stand up, "why would you even tell me that?"

"Fuck you, actually! I did miss you. But I guess nothing has changed," Sofia tells me as she points towards me in anger.

I don't move a muscle, having been through this before. I just sit right where I am on the couch and let her talk.

"You're not going to say anything?" Sofia puts her hands on her hips, glaring down at me.

I shake my head slowly, pulling my lips in like they've disappeared.

"Then fuck you!" She says again, even more hastily than the last.

"You already said that," I remind her gently, admittedly stirring the pot.