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The taxi drops us off in front of my apartment. I quickly pay the driver and turn to her. I place my hand on her bare back that her stunning dress has. I can feel the touch making her shiver. We’re both slightly tipsy.

With slightly trembling fingers I open the apartment door and let us enter. When I turn on the light switch, it suddenly becomes clear that I didn’t expect to go home with someone tonight. There’s still a glass on the table and last night’s pizza box. On the couch are the clothes from the day before, which I only took off after work and threw over it. It’s not dirty but messy.
When the separation was fresh, I made sure that the apartment looked tidy all the time. But the more time passed, the less crucial it became to me. She surveyed the room. A little embarrassed, I say, “I didn’t expect you to come to the wedding. And certainly not that you would going home with me.”

She walks to the couch and lifts my clothes before adding, “And you definitely didn’t plan on taking anyone else home, either.” There was a touch of satisfaction in her voice. Happy that I didn’t consider anyone else at the moment and a little disappointed in the clutter in my apartment. She grabs the bundle of clothes from the sofa and puts them on a chair at the table.

My gaze follows her. Her tone and coolness are piercing. And immediately the memories of the argument shoot up again. My lust has completely disappeared. At the wedding I would have loved to follow her to the ladies’ room and fuck her right there and now that we’re undisturbed I realize how complicated it has become.

I take a deep breath. “Would you like something to drink darling?” She turns to me and her face turns serious when she sees my expression. “I hope you’re just in a bad mood because your bedroom is as messy as your living room”
I walk past her, grab a glass from a cupboard and a bottle of whiskey and pour myself a glass. I sip it and take another deep breath before I start.
“No, the bedroom is tidy. But I don’t want to sleep with you. Not yet. First I want to know what this is. Is that an apology? Will you disappear from my life again tomorrow? I don’t understand the point of this action.”

Her gaze catches fire. “An apology? What am I supposed to apologize for?” For not being in control of yourself and immediately taking things personally that have nothing to do with you?”

My stomach cramps. The argument picks up right where it left off last time. I finish my glass as she continues to explain that it’s my own fault and that I’m imagining things. Her words are exactly the same as a month ago.

Her reasoning is again absolutely rational and if I’m honest I cannot contradict her rationally, even if every part of my body tells me that I have to do it.
My anger literally burns me inside before I feel like I’m numb. I interrupt her. “You’ve already said all that. Also how awful and disrespectful I am. And yet you’re here. Why did you come to my friends wedding?”

She pauses for a moment, surprised that I interrupted her while she was about to complain instead of balancing on eggshells as usual. She shakes her head while trying to come up with an argument before saying “I honestly don’t know. I don’t know why I’m even talking to you anymore.”

I stare at her. Then I begin to grin and shake my head and say in a barely audible voice, “You don’t know. Can’t you stop your stupid little games for once? Just once?”

When she hears the word “games” she regains her composure. She replies confidently, “I’m not playing games with you. I’ll be honest with you. But you’re reading something into it again and then you blame me. Just because you…”

Another argument she brings up at every opportunity. In a calm and firm voice I say “shut up” without looking at her. Her eyes widen as she realizes what I just said to her. Then she asks in a tense calm voice “Excuse me? What did you just say to me?”

I look down at my empty glass in my hand like it’s something exciting. In fact, I am surprised myself by my words. I feel my glass with another shot and reply, “I told you to shut up. Now before you throw your tantrum and accuse me of being an asshole, I don’t care. You don’t care how I’m doing, so Why should I care how you are?”

She opens her mouth several times, ready to yell at me before replying “We’re done. This conversation is over now. I’m sleeping on the couch and I’ll be gone in the morning and I never want to see you again.”

I take a sip of my drink and answer “no”. She flares up. “You have nothing more to say, I’ve made my decision.”
I laugh before I finish my whiskey and walk towards her. “I didn’t mean no, this conversation isn’t over, I meant no, you don’t sleep on my couch if you don’t care how I feel. Get your shit together and leave my apartment. You say there’s no reason anymore talk to me? Then go now too.”

With my last words, I stand right in front of her and look her straight in the eyes full of anger.
She angrily replies, “It’s 3 a.m. I’ve only got enough money for the bus home tomorrow morning! You can’t just throw me out on the street like that!”

Through clenched teeth, I reply, “I don’t care. You’re leaving now. And I won’t give you money for a cab either. You want to get out of my life? Then do it now. There’s the door.” I point my finger at the door without breaking contact for a moment.

She understands that I’m obviously serious and won’t discuss it much longer. With a trembling voice she begins “Babe let’s talk about it again tomorrow we both had a little drink and that maybe wasn’t the right way to get in touch again today”

I interrupt her again. “No. I’m still clear enough in my head to know that you don’t care about me right now. I don’t care how you get home. You can try to pay the taxi driver with sexual favors. That’s your way if you do something you want to have right? You act like a slut and you get what you want and if you don’t then you just turn the tables.” With each sentence, my anger rises as I watch her eyes fill with tears.

In a sob, she lets out “papaya.” In a reflex, I raise my hand to slap her face. I stop moving and yell at her, “This isn’t a game that stops when you use a safe word. But if it’s a game to you, then you shall have a game. You can stay here tonight if you work for it like a slut. Get naked and get on your knees and then we’ll see!”

NSFW: yes

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