Accidental Housemate

25: escaping

his eyes asked a question
my heart had already answered.

ESCAPING 

. . .

My mind woke up, but my body didn’t. I was paralysed, shackled to the bed.

We had sex.

What the hell had I been thinking? I had done the exact opposite of my plans. By the time we did it, I wasn’t that drunk, so I couldn’t blame the alcohol.

The affirmation that I wanted it wasn’t easy to take in.

I could sense him, to a point, when he woke up before me to go to work. He tried to wake me up, but as I said, I was paralysed. I didn’t dare raise my head or open my eyes and face him, especially knowing I was mostly naked under the sheets.

He’d eventually come back home, though, and the mere thought made my hands sweaty.

When my eyes landed on the bags I had packed in the corner, I thought maybe I didn’t have to face him. Maybe I could leave immediately, leave his flat and his life, as if I had never entered either. I was positive he’d be better off without me and my problems. I barely brought anything to the table.

My phone rang on the bedside table, showing Courtney’s name, as if in answer to my puzzlement. I sat up and answered the call, trying to sober up my voice. “Hey, Court.”

I definitely sounded too groggy.

“Hey! How are you doing today?”

I palmed my sleepy face. “I’m good.”

I knew she hadn’t exactly called to ask that. She wanted to get my answer for her offer.

And I had it. “Listen, I think the idea you proposed is great. Let’s do it.”

I could sense her smiling. “Bingo! Excited not to be alone anymore.” She giggled.

I sat up, and the duvet draped down my naked chest. “Can I move in, like, now?”

“Whoa, sounds like you’re running away from something. Sure, though.”

“I am. It feels more awkward with Dave after last night. I shall put an end to it.”

“What... happened?” she asked. Her tone told me she was already imagining scenarios.

No word left my mouth.

“You guys...” She trailed off.

I sighed. “I’m just coming. No use of prolonging this phone call.”

We ended the call, and I got up to have a much-needed shower. I started to feel my hangover even more intensely, worsening my mood.

Two more hours until Dave would be home.

My heart felt as though it might explode if I saw hope on his face after what we had done. I couldn’t give even a small piece of what he anticipated in my condition; my life was chaotic and needed a reset. I wanted to leave everything behind.

So, I cleaned the room, packed every single belonging, and left, possibly minutes before his arrival. I left my key copy on the dining table, assuming no one would have enough time to barge in before Dave arrived. I stared at the door from the outside, sighing in defeat.

The life we had shared behind that door was over. What began months ago, the feelings that started to grow, all that we went through together... was about to end. I couldn’t deny living with Dave had taught me a life lesson about kindness, for which I would be forever grateful.

I wondered what he would feel about me not even leaving a note. I trusted he really would be better off without any trace of me in his life.

Courtney sent me her location, a fifteen minute ride in the taxi. I anticipated my phone in my hand would ring any moment, and then I’d see Dave on the screen, asking where I had gone. Or maybe a message asking me for clarification.

With every passing minute, the expectation decreased, and so did my fear. After all, leaving my key on the table could mean only one thing.

Courtney lived in a decent building. Not too shabby. She welcomed me warmly with hugs and an invitation to dinner, making me wonder why she was that excited about having me. Maybe because the job she was still doing didn’t allow her to have the social life she aspired to have, and I was the only person who would understand and accept her.

I wasn’t in a better space myself. I only had Dave, but I left him behind.

“You didn’t answer my question on the phone,” she declared as we ate.

Her question reminded me to check my phone again. I really had to stop, but a part of me wanted him to contact me and possibly change my mind.

“I really don’t know where to start.” I took a bite, so she wouldn’t expect me to say more.

“You had sex.”

I’d have choked if I hadn’t swallowed already. I pursed my lips and only nodded. There was no use beating around the bush; she said it as a statement and not a question.

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Then why are you here now and not in his arms? Ended badly?”

“Because, as I told you, I’m moving in with you.”

She put down her fork. “Why are you holding back this much? Why not give him a chance? I understood you when we were in the park, but then why have sex? C’mon, Perrie. That’s not a good move from your side. If you find a great guy who is willing to love and respect you, it’s not fair or wise to leave him just like that. If you don’t want to be with him, then don’t have sex.”

I tongued my inner cheek, thinking of her words. Yeah, why did I have sex with him?

I told her the first thing that came to my head. “It’s been a while. I wanted to feel something.”

“Part of why any woman would accept working in pornography is the exciting feeling of being wanted. I know for a fact you always wanted that despite how much you hated the way you received it. In fact, I doubt you received any of it from doing porn. That’s why you had sex with your housemate. You were still looking for it.”

“So?”

She pinned me down with her sharp look. “Do you like him, or do you want to feel sexually desired?”

I did. Too much for my own good.

“The answer doesn’t matter, really. He’s better off without me. At least for now,” I answered honestly.

She smirked. “Leaving him for him, I see. Cliché.”

I ended my plate in silence. Courtney’s dinner was the first actual meal I had for the day, so I devoured it gladly. We washed the dishes, then she showed me around the place. All the time, I felt myself drifting into my own bubble, not able to focus on the details I probably didn’t need to know.

After declining the offer to watch something together, I finally slid into my new bed. I checked my phone for the last time; the same empty lock screen welcomed me. Time to accept he wouldn’t text or call.

Why had I even expected him to?

I was starting to miss him. The upcoming days would test my decision and wouldn’t be easy.

. . .

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