Attraction - a fraudulent marriage

12. come morning

This is the revised version of Attraction

I woke up alone. The crumpled sheets seemed to mock me as if they knew exactly why he'd left without saying a word. Rubbing sleep from my eyes, I tried to erase the bitter-tinged thoughts. I'd had enough of those during the night. Regret wouldn't help me. Lingering on hurt would help me even less. It was time to put on my big boy pants and pretend that I was perfectly fine.

The room appeared different in the early morning light. The atmosphere had transformed from heady seduction to standard cliché. It left a weird aftertaste.

A knock on the door stopped my musings. I was about to answer when the handle turned.

Tom wore his trademark suit, making me acutely aware of the flimsy sheet barely covering my hips where I sat against the bed frame. I was about to fidget when I stopped myself and braved a smile that was supposed to be relaxed.

He closed the door behind him. "The others are eating."

"I'll shower real quick then." I bit the inside of my cheek and let the sheet drop. He had seen me naked before, but I wanted to give him a sweet reminder. Standing up was more of a strain than I had anticipated, and walking was uncomfortable. Damn it. He'd done a number on me.

I grabbed around the bathroom door, fingers tapping against the wood. I met his unreadable gaze. "Wanna join?"

"I've already showered. I'll be downstairs with the others."

Smile. Fucking smile, Joachim.

"See you later. I'll be down soon." I flashed him a smile and closed the door, placing my hand on the large double sink to keep steady. I wasn't allowed to feel hurt. He owed me nothing.

I showered longer than necessary, ignoring my promise to hurry. Water is the universal solvent, a cleanser. It always felt that way to me, at least. It flushed away my raging emotions and left me with a sense of serenity. But it only worked with showers. I would never submerge myself in water ever again. Not even a bathtub worked for me. The deep-seated fear had me in its claws, and I doubted I would ever escape its clutches.

Knowing that solitude was the worst company when memories surfaced, I got out of the shower. The mirror returned a foggy image, and for a second, I imagined a portal, a gateway to visit the dead. I wondered what my parents and sister would say if they saw me.

I wiped the mirror, staring at myself. The thin red scar on my temple stood out like an angry reminder. I would never escape the past, and even if it would be easier to forget and move on, I wanted to remember them.

* * * *

The others had more or less finished their breakfast when I came downstairs. I tried my best to steer my attention away from Tom even if he seemed to be the only person in the room.

"Joah, get another croissant for me, will you?" Chris said, totally missing out on the standard morning phrases.

"Sure." It gave me something to do. I smiled at the others, greeting everyone before I continued to the breakfast buffet. A few months ago, I wouldn't have recognized much of it, but American food culture was pretty easy to get familiar with. I still didn't like Pop Tarts, but then, I wasn't all that keen on sweet breakfast foods in general.

I loaded up my plate and returned, handing a croissant to Chris. "Here you go sweet cheeks."

"Thanks."

I was glad that he'd finally accepted his nickname. It suited him well. In fact, he'd been resisting for too long. Now I had to find another one that would annoy him.