The writer and the boxer - a sweet romance

Chapter 9

The sexual tension between us had its own heart beat. It increased when we were together while levitating just beyond our reach. Taunting us with a hiss and growl at times. Leaving us jumpy and sometimes with incoherent speech. In those times when the words (mostly mine) refuse to make sense, blissful silence was acceptable with soothing fingers gliding on skin.

He never pushed for more and I never insisted that we move further. The days seem to fly by as he always greeted me with a count-down. Today was 'day 25'. I rather enjoyed hearing about the hurdles we overcame and what more was left, but I was uncomfortable to reach the end and be disappointed or worst, become the disappointment. I dreaded that 60th day, while I was twirling in circles awaiting the site of a boxing ring up-close-and-personal. Would it be all I wanted? Would I be able to view it as a participator or a concerned girlfriend? Can I sit and cheer for someone who would either be given blows or reciprocating what is dealt to him? How safe would it be for me even, or him? Would anything happened to those well pedi-toes? Wait, did I just have a girlfriend thought?

All valid questions that lead up to 'that day'. But I dare not obstruct the time spent with him mulling over those thoughts that could lead to anguish and cause uncertainty or mistrust. I rather settled them in a part of the mind that was documented 'later' and focused on the now that was filled with kissing and hugging and careful abandonment.

Day 25 started without much of a significance until we both were sitting on my couch, enjoying the soft chill of the wind at night. While his fingers kept up a trail from thigh to ankle and back to thigh and I noticed movement from the apartment he was supposed to be 'sitting'.

"OMG, your friend is being robbed!" I scooted off his lap and sprang for my mobile while he was left confused as to my words and my actions.

"Wait! Stop! Wait!" He was shouting but my panic mode was already in overdrive and I had dialed the numbers 999 already just awaiting to be patched through. He grabbed the phone and hung up while I protested and glared at him.

"Uhm, that's the person I'm apartment sitting for. I guess she came early." The last sentence said more for his acknowledgment than for my knowledge.

'She!' I screamed in my head. I thought he was apartment sitting for a guy, his male friend. It never occurred to me that he could be a she. Who was this 'she' that just couldn't leave her place alone for more than a month, and why did he think he was the right person to stay in her home.

'She!' It kept shouting in my head. Those 3 letters. I should've known that it was too good to be true. I looked away from the apartment and spat the words "Get out!"to him as I seethed in inevitable anger. I knew that it was too true. His supposed honesty was just a distraction. 'I like thick women' I heard in my heart and just let it wash away in the drain with all the other nonsense I have ever heard.

His eyes shifted to me now and I knew what he would have done had I let him hug me then and there. Maybe I would have forgotten about the trivial matter of the female owner of the apartment he was 'sitting', but I refused his touch. His show of apology and countered his stepping forward with two steps back, adding my palms up and slightly outstretched to demand 'no touching'. He stopped in his tracks and looked from me to the window then back to me again.

"I'm sorry, that was a major oversight. I really thought you knew who lived there"

"No I don't and right now I don't care Luc. Nice meeting you. Goodbye!" Finality heard in my 'goodbye'.

"Please, it's not what you think"

"I think nothing and I am pretty glad you kept those stupid vows, now I don't have to add any sexual misunderstanding to my demise of some sorts," and walked towards my door opening it with a flourish.

"She is just a friend"

"Then by all means, go hug and kiss your slim friend and leave this jello juggle of a girl".

"You are a sexy beautiful woman. The building siren," and he made the smile linger on his face hoping I would succumb to it.

I defiantly averted my eyes to the door and awaited his departure. He looked at me once again, sadness clearly written on his face. By the time he got to the door and before I shut it I heard, "I'm really sorry," and knew that it could just be the truth but I didn't care much by then. I was livid.

I took off the lights and sat in darkness eaves-looking at his encounter upon reaching where he was staying.

They hugged, I cringed. They sat at the opposite ends of the couch, I looked at mine in longing, wanting him back where we were before 'she' walked in. I sighed and fumbled to my room falling face down on my bed and buried myself in my pillows where the scream turned into an uncontrollable raging sobs. After what seemed a few minutes I raised my aching head and brought puffy eyes up to view the time. I had cried myself to sleep and lost hours on this stupid man. I sighed into my pillow once again feeling ugly and unloved.