Fancy Love

Fancy Love: Part 6

Ailec arrived at her front door, inserting the key into the lock with a free hand, the other carrying the carefully packed cheese platter, with the re-corked bottle of wine under her arm. She could never tell if her ex-husband was home from outside of the apartment, and the familiar unease of what she was walking into settled over her. She hated coming home.

Pushing the door open, she dropped her keys in the bowl on the side table, seeing that the living room light was on and the TV flickered silently in the corner. She could see the back of Mark’s head adorned by a gaming headset, as he spent his Saturday evening assaulting some point in what appeared to be a first person shooter. Not that she could talk; she was probably going to be spending her Saturday evening watching him play a first person shooter.

Knowing Mark couldn’t hear her, she moved into the kitchen, glad of the brief reprieve, and deposited the bag into the fridge and the bottle onto the bench. Retrieving a wine glass from the cupboard she poured herself a large measure, silently toasting Carmen for the help to get through the evening. She turned, hoping to disappear into her corner of the living room, almost dropping the glass as she jumped in fright, “Shit!”

Mark was leaning against the kitchen doorframe, looking well pleased with himself, “I was waiting for you so I saw the kitchen light was on.”

“Why?” Ailec said, doing nothing to keep a horrified note from entering her voice.

Mark frowned, spied the open bottle of red on the bench and moved over to pick it up. “Where did you get this?” he asked, reading the label.

 Ailec took a step back, attempting to keep him out of her personal space, “That’s not really any of your business, is it?”

He didn’t respond, instead leaning over her to grab a wine glass from the cupboard above her head, “Did you have a date?” he asked instead.

“Are you going to ask?” Ailec snapped, indicating the bottle. She’d discovered very early on that Mark wasn’t good at boundaries. He didn’t do well with personal space, personal items, personal lives or even personal hygiene, up to the point that if Ailec had any other options at all, she’d be out of her makeshift room as fast as her worn out cons could carry her.

He looked at her blandly and shook his head, pouring himself a glass, “So did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Go on a date?”

“Mark, it’s none of your business.”

He took a sip, staring at her over the rim of the glass, “You never bring half bottles of wine home.”

Ailec shrugged, and took a step to the side with the intention of slipping past him and out of the kitchen. He mirrored her step, blocking the path to the door. “Mark,” she said, voice low, containing a warning.

He took a step back and gestured at the door, a parody of gallantry, “I need to talk to you... about something that is my business,” he added hastily at the look he was getting from the increasingly angry red head backed up against the kitchen counter.

“Fine,” she brushed past him and into the living room, taking a seat on the couch, away from his dumped gaming gear. The first person shooter was still running, Mark’s character lying dead in the centre of the screen and the game still moving around him, testament to the speed at which he’d stopped playing. She placed her glass on the coffee table, and looked up as he took his seat, “OK, I’m listening.”

“It’s about your rent. I need to up it.”

Ailec stared at him blankly for several seconds, the words taking longer than they should to sink in. Her jaw dropped slightly. “Er... you’re serious,” she finally managed, the words a statement rather than a question.