ultraviolence // kai anderson

so sweet

    Later that night, when everyone had drifted into sleep except the two of us, Kai looks around the room one last time just to be sure before standing from where he'd lain on the couch and my lap. He looks at me and gestures to me with his head toward the table beneath the hanging light. The same table he'd sat me on the first night we kissed where I'd sure we were about to take it all the way. I think about that often.
    For now, though, I just stand and follow him around the arm of the couch to take our respective seats across from each other at the circular table. I swallow nervously and look at the empty space between us, waiting for him to do what I know he's about to do: I've seen him make the others do "pinky power" here, but thus far I've been left out of it. Maybe that's because he knows I'll tell him anything he wants to know no matter when or where.

    He's studying my face when he says, "I've noticed something about you in the last few weeks."

    "What's that?" I ask innocently enough.

    "You're purposely avoiding saying your husband's name. Or really anything about him if you can." I flatten my lips into a line and stay quiet. Kai nods once, then says, "Pinky out."

    I do as he says, and he tells me he has another three questions for me. I feel the difference now between our pinkies being wrapped around each other's versus him just asking me things on a casual day: this way feels less optional, like I'm genuinely under oath and will face the consequences for lying should I dare try.

    The first thing out of his mouth as his wide eyes lock onto my face is, "Are you... in love?"

    I pause for a beat, and then, "Yes."

    His head tilts back slightly, but he never breaks eye contact. "With Gregory?" I'm the one to let my gaze drop now, a small sense of shame creeping in. He quickly corrects this with, "Eyes on me."

    Again I obey, and then, "No."

    He gets an unreadable expression then, but only after a flicker of excitement lights his features. He purses his lips while thinking carefully of the next question, and I'm not nearly prepared when he asks, "Do you wish he was dead?" I quickly eradicate the instinct to tense up and pull away, but still Kai obviously sees my distress. He shrugs lightly with one shoulder and says, "Just say it."

    Do I wish he were dead? I replay all the times I fantasized about the scenario in my head while we argued: but they're just that-- fantasies. I've been with Gregory for almost a decade at this point, so no matter if I romantically love him or not, I think it'd be impossible not to have some sort of care for him. Though, having him out of the picture would make everything I do and want to do with Kai a hell of a lot easier. A corner of my mouth twitches upward momentarily as I picture it. Seconds later, he pulls his pinky from mine and stands, and I lightly flinch thinking he'll knock me out of my chair for my insubordination. I would understand if he did. But instead, he nods down at me as he rounds the table to leave me alone there.

    "You're upset?"

    "Not at all," he answers, finding the remote to turn the television off.

    "Well I'm glad but... why?" I turn in my seat. "I didn't answer you."

    He smiles, but it feels sinister. I understand why when he says, "Sometimes getting no answer is the clearest one of all."

//

    It's odd being around Gregory after that; I'm nervous that any bump in the night or late response to my texts means Kai has come to make me a widow. The more I think about it, the less sure I am of how it makes me feel. If only there were a way to wipe Gregory from existence without brutality, make it so he'd never even been born-- or at least never showed any interest in me. That impossible outcome would be my ideal one. I didn't necessarily wish harm on him, nor did I intend to stand against Kai if it came down to it. Nothing could make me do that.