Betrayal

Chapter 47

Ali - PT 2

I splash the cold water on my face. It makes me gasp, but cools me down quickly. I'm burning hot.

My mascara and eyeliner are smeared down my cheeks. I pull my hair up and scrub it away with a wet washcloth, then strip out of my clothes. I have a pair of pajamas in here, a t-shirt and sweat pants, that I put on.

I stare at myself in the mirror. Warren is out there. He's in my apartment. I excused myself to come in here as soon as we came in. I needed a minute. I'm overloaded with racing thoughts, both good and bad. I can't believe he's here. None of this evening feels real. I wonder if I'm just dreaming.

But when I hear his quiet voice, I know I'm not. I furrow my brow and listen, but can't make out what he's saying. I walk out of the bathroom slowly, through the kitchen, and stop as I reach my small living area.

He's on his knees by the fireplace and my cat is on her back, letting him pet her stomach and pawing at his arm. He laughs softly and has a small smile on his face as he talks to her. I can't help my smile.

When he looks at me, my breath catches.

"You got a cat," he says, still smiling. "She's so sweet."

I nod.

"She likes you."

"I like her, too. I love cats. What's her name?"

That makes me laugh. I didn't see him as being a cat person.

"Snowball."

He snorts and laughs. I bite my lip and smile.

"Snowball," he repeats, still laughing. "Perfect name for a black cat."

He keeps petting her, stroking her head and her tail and her stomach, then slowly stands up. She makes figure eights around his legs the same way she does to me. I keep thinking how fucking strange and out of place this is.

I never thought I'd see him here. Standing in my studio apartment, petting my cat after we've had dinner and kissed and confessed our love to each other. There's something about it that gives an ease to the situation. He loves me. I can't believe it, but I do at the same time. Why would he seek me out a year later and tell me he loves me if he didn't mean it? We could've just never seen each other again and forgotten about one another.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"Sure. Thank you."

I go back into the kitchen. I don't have much, but Thomas left a few beers out of a six pack here. I hesitate, then grab two. I open them. He's standing close to me and his brow is furrowed as I hand him one.

"You like Pabst?"

"Not really," I say quietly. "They... they're Thomas's."

He looks from me down to the bottle and nods.

"Mm. Thomas. How'd you meet him?"

I eye him and sigh as I take a sip. He follows suit and takes a sip, too.

"In class. Last year."

"Mm."

It feels awkward again. This whole thing is awkward. It feels wrong to even mention Thomas. Even if I consider him as only a friend. He saw him kiss me. It clearly made him jealous. I shouldn't talk about him anymore.

"Do you wanna sit down? Talk some more?"

I nod and we go back to the living room. He sits in the arm chair and I sit on the couch. I don't have a lot of furniture. He's looking around.