Dindi Pt. 05

I didn't know whether that was a question or not, so I chose not to answer. I simply wanted him to leave.

George said something to Travis I couldn't quite make out. Next thing I knew I heard the door being locked and George was carrying me to bed and lying behind me.

"Do you want to talk, Mo?" He asked.

"No." I croaked.

I only wanted to forget. Forget Travis existed. Forget I had trusted him. Forget I was in love with him already. Forget it had taken me seven years to finally start to let someone in again just to be dealt such a blow.

It was a curse, but if there was something I could do, it was rationalize things. In my case, that was by far a very bad thing. Even in the state I was in, my mind was working, that internal voice whispering to me:

He came to Gee's party. Where you live. He was nothing but wonderful all night long. He sweetly explained his past relationship with Anissa even after you had told him it didn't matter to you. Then a minute later he was outside kissing her? A woman who earlier, barely acknowledged by him, had tried her best to spite you? Where is the sense in that, Morena? Why would he try to talk or explain himself if he cared that little?

So I knew I had to listen to him. Just listen. Let him explain himself. Nevertheless, whether he did explain it or not, it didn't matter a thing. That kiss was all the excuse I needed. I was back behind my wall, where nobody could ever hurt me again.

****

TRAVIS

Dindi ran up the stairs to get her coat. I stayed behind, chewing on the thought I had swirling around in my head since the first time she told me she wanted to rent a place for herself. I'd almost said it. Move in with me.

She pretty much did live with me already. She was at my place all the time. Still, it was too soon. I knew it was. But the thought had been there, after almost four months together. Had it been any other woman, any of the women who came before her, in four months I'd be bored out of my mind. With Dindi? I seemed to want her more everyday.

She was an unbelievable woman. My favorite thing about her was, by far, the way she made me feel without even trying, just by being who she was. I felt like everything was right in the world. Like I was right. You're in love, Travis. That's what this is. My sister had said, scaring the shit out of me. But was I? How could I know it? Name a feeling I never experienced before? Morena had felt it. She'd been in love. She'd been heartbroken. It showed in her. The way she seemed to guard herself against anything she thought might hurt her. Including me.

When Anissa had the nerve to say the things she had in front of Morena...Christ! I could've have murdered her. Dindi, though, proving herself the confident woman I knew her to be, handled the situation beautifully.

However, this fear she'd run from me soon wouldn't leave me alone. The situation with my mother had been bad enough. From what Morena told me she'd heard my mother's idiotic question but not my answer. Not my real answer, or the argument that followed it. My reply was more elaborated than the one I had reported to her. 'I won't leave her. I love her.' I had said to my mother. The exact same words she'd heard from my father years ago.

There was no doubt in my mind -or any other part of me, for that matter- that I was in love with Morena. At some unexpected moment I'd tell her that. Tell her she had me head over heels. God only knew how the fuck that had happened. Some months ago she was the object of my lust -like so many others before her. Now she was all I needed, or wanted. And the lust was all the bigger for it.

Anissa's public confession had both scared me, and enraged me out of my mind. I thought maybe that would make Morena rethink her decision to be with me. But then she'd said it, out loud. She said she was my girlfriend. My girlfriend. When was the last time a woman accurately called herself my girlfriend? Maybe college? Some fifteen years ago? A girl whose name I barely remembered? Anyway, that had only lasted for a mere month.

Morena avoided relationships afraid of the pain the involvement could cause her. I, on the other hand, avoided it because...I guess I just didn't think I was that kind of guy. It was easy enough to find someone willing to have sex with me. A serious relationship? Sure, I've had some women who had wanted that. It just wasn't reciprocal. I never found myself wanting to be in a steady relationship. I didn't really think I had enough to give to someone else. Being responsible for my own life was enough of a challenge, already. I didn't want to feel obligated to do anything for someone else and risk disappointing them.

I wasn't sure I knew how to deal with all the responsibilities a relationship entails. First you meet someone, then you -presumably- fall in love, you move in together, then in a couple of years things start to get more serious. Comes the talk about the future, marriage, kids...Real adult life kicks in.

What I didn't understand before I met Dindi was that; when you find someone you truly want to be with, you will gladly do things for them, plan a future with them. Because making them happy, makes you happy. Did that mean I was in love with her, then? Saying the word was one thing, but I was no suitable judge of the feeling. All I knew was that I had never felt like this before. About anyone. I also knew how much love could hurt. Like it did my mother, and Morena herself.

Lost in my head, I had wondered outside the building. George was fortunate enough to live next to a bar, and most of the guests who'd left the party were still hanging around in front of the door, holding drinks. The weather was beginning to change, and it was cold enough that I buttoned up my coat.

"Travis." A voice called and I immediately froze.

Fuck.

I spun around to see Anissa leaning lazily against the wall.

"Anissa." I muttered uninterested, then diverted my attention away from her.

"So," She moved towards me when all I wanted in the world was to run away from her. Anissa had been one of those mistakes that make you wonder what you should regret more. The mistake itself, or how much you regret it. "You have a girlfriend, now." She said so close to me I felt her hot alcohol breath in my ear. I took a step to the side.

"I do." Was all I said.

"I remember you saying you didn't date."

Not you. I said silently in my head.

"Well, I do now." Was what I actually said out loud.

Where the fuck was Morena?

"Yes, I can see that." She said, then fell silent. I was about to leave, thanking the heavens she could take a hint and see I had no desire to talk to her when she spoke again. "That was the best you could do?"

I was already walking back inside the building, but then turned to see her blowing a puff of smoke from the cigarette she had just lit.

"What the fuck did you just say?" I narrowed my eyes, hoping she could see my displeased scowl in the dimly illuminated sidewalk.

"Oh, come on, honey. We both know you could do better." She blew a circle of smoke in the air, smiling one of her feigned feline smiles.

I started to walk away. That being the only thing I could do to keep my temper from getting the best of me.

"Where are you going?" Anissa grabbed my arm, but I jerked it away from her hold.

"Look, Anissa." I said, holding my hands up. "You and I. We have nothing to talk about."

She laughed a forged, ironical sound that disturbed my ears.

Had I ever liked that? Had I ever liked her at all?

"Oh, Travis, please. You can't honestly tell me you're content with that." Once again, I turned my back to her before I forgot she was a woman. And again, she tried to stop me with a hand on my arm.

I whirled around, grabbing her wrist with one firm hand. She winced, and I let go, catching some curious eyes turning our direction.

Great. All I needed now was people thinking I was a woman hitter.

"Fuck off, Anissa." I spit at her.

"What? Are you in love with her or something?" Her cynical smile when she spoke made that seem like the world's most improbable possibility.

"Yeah, I am. I love her." I said it without even thinking. Even if it was just to get Anissa out of my way, it was the truth.

God! What was taking Morena so fucking long?

"Yeah, but is she good to you?" She stepped closer to me, I stepped back. "Does she do it the way I did it? The way you like it?" The nicotine on her breath hit my face making me flinch.

My back was already against a wall I didn't know was behind me. I tried stepping sideways, but she followed me, anticipating my movement. The tip of her cigarette blinked as she took a drag, before throwing the stub at the pavement.

The last drop of patience I still had left my body. I was about to forget my gentleman like manners when Anissa threw her body flush against mine.

My brain needed a second to register the fact that she was kissing me. The bitter taste of her cigarette invaded my mouth, awakening something disgusted inside me. I pushed her away so abruptly, she stumbled and fell backwards on the sidewalk. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, seeing red.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Why the fuck didn't I wait for Morena inside?

I didn't stay to check on Anissa. I didn't give a shit about her. I spit on the ground before going back inside the building, but the damn taste of nicotine was impossible to get rid of.

Fuck.

My body was suddenly disgusting to myself. What the hell was Anissa's problem? I should've stayed inside. I should've gone back inside the second I saw her.

Morena wasn't back yet so I went up to see what was taking her so long. My hand hovered over the door before I knocked, though. How was I going to explain what had just happened with Anissa? Would she believe me? Would she forgive me? Should I really tell her? God, it'd hurt her so much.

I finally knocked and Lance opened the door. He had a strange look on his face, and I opened my mouth to ask him what was the matter when my eyes found her behind him, standing in the center of the living room, beside George.

I'll never forget the look on her face. Nor will I ever forgive myself for it.

Not that she had much of a reaction. She just stood perfectly still, lowering her eyes as tears fell down her neck. However, all the pain I'd caused was clear. She'd seen it. She'd seen Anissa kiss me. I saw the hurt that marred her beautiful face.

God, what the fuck have I done?

I pushed blindly past Lance and went straight for Morena like a bull charges for its teaser waving a red flag, but George blocked my way.

"Don't you fucking dare come near her, you fucking prick!" In all the time I've known George I could never have imagined he could look so menacing.

"George, please. I can explain. Just let me talk to her, for Christ's sake!" I defended myself, trying desperately to make him understand it wasn't my fault. It wasn't. I would never dare hurt her. "Morena?" I called, trying to catch her attention. She didn't seem to hear me, I couldn't see her face, but it was obvious she wasn't even moving.

"George, please. I need to talk to her." I pleaded with him. I tried to reach her, and every move I made towards her was frustrated by George's body getting in my way. "Fuck! Come on, man!"

"Look mate, you should leave." He said, holding his hands up. "Fucking leave before I-"

"George, this is between Morena and I. Just-"

"Between you and her!? George's voice went up several decibels. "I bloody knew you'd hurt her! I fucking knew it! You better get the fuck out of here before I-"

"George?" Morena's voice was low and weepy coming from behind him. He didn't seem to hear it.

"...fucking smash your face..." He continued throwing threats at me, then stopped when he finally heard her calling him. He turned his back to me, allowing my eyes to settle on her for a flash of a moment.

She didn't look at my face. Her eyes were down, empty and puffy. Her tears were flowing down so intensely even her neck seemed to be soaked wet.

"Can you..." She sounded breathless, struggling to speak. "Can you...let me...talk...to him?" She wanted to talk to me. My relief was such I almost sank to my knees.

"Mo-" George obviously didn't think that was a good idea.

"Ple-Please?" She stammered.

If I could punch myself I would've. Weeks ago she had stood before me, told me all about how that James guy had hurt her and made me promise I wouldn't do the same. Now here I was. The reason for the pain and unhappiness that consumed her.

However, here was something I could explain. I fucked it all up, yes. But I could explain myself. Here was a mistake I wasn't entirely to blame for.

George moved away from her, not without darting me a warning look before he ushered out the people still inside his apartment watching everything with acute interest.

People started to leave with reluctance, and George himself left too. He took Lance by the arm and led him out the door.

"I'll be right outside, Mo." He said, closing the door after himself.

Once I was alone with Morena, the words were on the tip of my tongue. I'm sorry. She winced as I stepped towards her, retreating until a wall behind her back stopped her. To see her avoiding me like that...I prefered a punch in the face from George.

"Do-" She put her hands in front of her, as if to defend herself from me. "Do n-not to-touch me!"

She wheezed and tried to breath, having little success at it. It seemed to me she was having an asthma attack or something like that. That was the moment when I began to feel desperate. All I wanted in the world was to touch her, but she pressed herself to the wall to put as much distance between us as she could. I felt like the great shit I've always known I was.

"Y-You pr-promised me." She still didn't look at me. She had her eyes purposely fixed on my chest as she gasped for air.

If only she'd let me explain myself. I hadn't broken my promise. I would never dare to.

She appeared to be so little, so fragile, retreating into herself. My god, I've never wanted to hug her so much. Somehow I knew she wouldn't let me touch her. I didn't deserve to, but I tried anyway.

"Dindi." I pleaded, advancing towards her.

"Don't you fucking call me that!" Her reaction was so raw, so sudden I put a feet behind me involuntarily.

Then she crumbled down. Her back slid down the wall until she landed on the floor, slumpy. She panted, gasped, wheezed, made desperate ugly noises in her throat, increasing my own anguish with every sound. She clutched at her pendant and the golden chain snapped, sliding from her neck into her hand.

Her reaction scared me more than anything. I moved towards her, dropping to my knees in front of her, trying to figured out what I could do to help her. She was crying so hard I doubted she could she clearly. I wanted to lend the air I had in my lungs to her. She was as desperate as I felt, fisting my shirt in her hands, opening her mouth to urge in the air that refused to help her. I held her face in my hands, miserably imploring her for a clue of what to do.

"I-" She opened her mouth, trying to speak, but only a hissing sound escaped her throat.

I was going insane. I felt her frail body going limp in my arms. "What do I do, Dindi? How do I help you for god's sake! Tell me what the fuck to do!" I shook her lightly in an attempt to keep her eyes from closing.

Without warning, hot tears ran down my face as well. I couldn't tell what the fuck they were for. If fear, anger, self loathing, sheer fear or desperation.

What do I do?

She opened her mouth, whether to speak or fight for air, I couldn't tell. I saw her eyelids become heavy, her head lolled towards her chest as her struggle for air was being replaced by a gradual silence.

Then a thought came to me: If she had asthma she probably carried an inhaler nearby. I ran to her room, searching hastily for her bag, then scattered its contents on the bed, praying I'd find the damn inhaler.

Please, let her have one of those things in her bag. Please.

I found the little red thing, and in a flash, I was back by her side, urging her to take a breath out of it. Blindly, she reached for it like a thirsty man would a bottle of water in the desert. She pushed in one, two, four mouthfuls of air from the inhaler. She gasped, breathing, raggedly, but on her own.

I pulled her to my chest and she settled into it, breathing with more easiness as the minutes went by. If five, ten, thirty minutes passed, I wasn't able to tell. I just held her, burying my nose in her curls, feeling as the risings and fallings of her chest came to a normal rhythm.

Somehow I knew that was the last time I'd touch her in a while. I clung to her desperately. I couldn't let her go. She was the best thing in my life.

She squirmed in my arms, then jerked away so unexpectedly her back hit the wall behind her with an audible thud. I flinched, feeling like a limb was removed from my body.

"Morena, please."

She finally looked at me and I felt a kick in my chest. Was I the reason for that? She didn't even seem like herself. She looked broken. Her lips quivered, her eyes that I loved so much were swollen and red, full of hurt. There was nothing there of the woman I was so crazy about.

I'm going to lose her. Fuck. I'm going to lose her.

Something hard settled on her eyes, changing her whole expression. A fierce determination that puffed her chest.

"You said you wouldn't hurt me. You promised you wouldn't hurt me, Travis." The weakness of her voice did nothing to diminish the harsh accusation in it.

"Morena, listen to me. I-" I could fix this. If she would only let me explain myself. I could fix it.

"Go away, Travis." She snapped with a violence that startled me.

Shit. I couldn't leave her. I wouldn't. Not like this. Not before I fixed everything.

"Morena, please, don't do this." I tried to touch her yet again, but she grimaced, recoiling from me as if I were contagious.

"NO!" She cried out, wrapping her arms around herself.

What the fuck had I done? How the fuck had any of this happened? How was I going to fix this? She was only beginning to trust me. I almost had her...

"Just fucking leave, mate." George was back.

The last thing I wanted to do was leave her. "Please." I whispered so lowly, even I couldn't hear my own voice.

She shook her head, turning it from side to the side. I knew there was no point in staying. It was obvious she couldn't bear my presence. I knew her wl enough to understand that insistence wouldn't do me any good. George would punch me any time in the near future. Maybe the best thing to do was to give her time. Eventually she would have to talk to me. I hoped.

"Please, call me when you're ready to talk." I said to her as I got to my feet.

"Here." I handed her inhaler to George, heading for the door.

"Hey," He called. "Carla told me what happened. She saw Annisa throw herself at you. I'll tell Mo when she's better."

Thank fuck!

If she didn't want to hear it from me, maybe she'd listen to George.

"Oh, thank you, George! Tell her I-" I was so grateful, I could've kissed his feet.

"Look," He interrupted me. "You hurt the person I love most in the world, Travis. I'll tell her what really happened here, but you have better fix this. Mo is racional. She'll talk to you eventually. You'll crawl at her feet if you have to, but do something about this."

"I'll do everything I can." I promised.

And I would. Fucking anything.

George just nodded and went towards her, picking her up in his arms. He was probably the only person in the world who could comfort her now. How I envied him that. She looked like a ragged doll. What I wouldn't give to be the one to take care of her.