A Many Splintered Thing / Day 33: She fought him, squirming on top of him, seemingly all muscle and sinew.

Here we go. I think I could go for another cuppa today. That picture looks tempting. Might have to give in to temptation...

XOXO
Sommer

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Caleb stiff armed her. Much harder than he anticipated. He had wild, strange images in his mind of films he’d seen where men wrestled alligators. She fought him, squirming on top of him, seemingly all muscle and sinew.
“Jasmine! Fucking knock it off!” he hissed. He changed tactics by shoving his lower body to the side as he levered her to his left. It disconnected them but provoked a sound from her that reminded Caleb of an angry feline.
“Caleb…” She was breathing hard. “Just let me make it better.”
She wouldn’t stop going for him, randomly striking for various parts of his body. He finally shoved her over the edge of the bed. He’d never hit a woman, but he sure as shit wasn’t going to wear kid gloves with her while she was acting like a lunatic.
“There is nothing to make better,” he said into the semi-light of his room. “There is nothing. Nothing between us anymore. You can fuck whoever you want in the gazebo. I don’t care.”
“But I loved you,” she said. He was glad he couldn’t see her face clearly.
“No you didn’t.”
“And you loved me,” she went on undaunted.
“No I didn’t,” I said.
“And now you hate me,” she said, not listening. She was sniffling. He knew this routine. I didn’t get what I want so now I will grind you into dust beneath my shoe with guilt or whatever emotion you have that is close to guilt.
“No, Jas. I don’t hate you. I am indifferent to you. And that, my dear, is the opposite of love. Now you need to go. You can get up and walk out of here on your own or I can get up, carry you out and dump you on the lawn. Up to you.” He was sitting up now. Running his hands through his hair, wondering how he’d ever gotten tangled up with the likes of her.
She sat there unmoving. He assumed she was staring at him but he couldn’t’ tell. The room was lit now but she was in shadows. A darker spot in the purpling light.
“I can fire you,” she said, some heat in her voice.
“Oh, absolutely. Feel free. I’ll figure it out. I’ll find another job.”
“You’ll turn tail and run back east,” she said with an ugly bark of a laugh. Taunting him.
He pulled on the T-shirt that was crumpled on the floor by his nightstand. “Nope. I’ll find a job somewhere local. I have something around here that…intrigues me. I won’t be leaving. So do you worst, Jas. Long gone are the days where you’ll wield anything over me. If anything, the way I see it, I wield something over you. Does Harrison know about the tall, thin drink of infidelity in the gazebo?”
She stood then, brushing down the nightgown she wore. Her hair was a wild tangle around her face and he thought how she looked like some crazy queen in a fairy tale.
“Are you threatening me, Caleb?”
He laughed. “Nope. Just stating the obvious. Now get.”
He shooed her with his hand and he watched her spine go rigid, her eyes narrow. The sun was truly coming up, chasing away more and more of the darkness that lurked at the corners of the room.
“Did you just dismiss me on my own property?”
“Indeed, I did. Now go. Or I will. Either way, one of us is going, Jas.”
She turned on her heels. That trait, more than any, always made Caleb remember her upbringing. Her money. Her idea that she was entitled to whoever and whatever she wanted in life. He couldn’t help but smile.
She turned the knob, opened the door, and walked out without uttering another word.
It was only then that he exhaled. And he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath.
*
She heard him coming. Dahlia dumped grounds into the filter and then filled the coffee pot with water. She poured it into the reservoir and realized her hands were shaking a bit. It annoyed her. Just a few days before she’d been brewing her coffee cup by cup with a French press, but not now. Now there were two of them and, as much as it surprised her given her loathing of any kind of change, she had immediately switched to the coffee pot which was easier to deal with.
The spot in the hallway that creaked when stepped on sounded. She felt energy coming down the hallway. It was odd how, once you lived along for any amount of time, you could actually feel the energy of another person in your domain.
Standing in the doorway. Dahlia could feel it. Waiting.
She plastered a smile on her face, wanting to make whatever that weirdness yesterday was fade, and turned. “Hey, I don’t know what happened last night but—“
Dahlia froze. Jasmine stood there, hand on hip, leaning against the arch that led from hallway to kitchen. “Good morning, Dahlia,” she said.
Dahlia opened her mouth but quickly closed it again. She took in the tousled hair, the nightgown that was sheer in all the right places, the cat-that-ate-the-canary grin. Her stomach tumbled down, down, down even as her head grew light.
“Jas,” she said, with as much calm as she could muster.
Fuck her. Fuck the rich tart and her greedy ways. She’d explode from her emotions before she’d show even a single crack in her armor. Caleb could fuck her all he wanted. Jasmine could have all the men. Who cared, right? It was a day, really. One night and one day, if you really wanted to get technical. The thing between her and Caleb was nothing. A blip on the radar. A single raindrop in a monsoon.
“Feel free to be late to work,” Jasmine said. “I know it might take you a little bit to recover from seeing me here.”
Jasmine turned quickly and walked away. Before her hands could even stop shaking, Dahlia heard the front door shut. She turned to the cabinet, found the French press and got it down. She began to make her cup of coffee for the morning.
photo credit: - luz - via photopin cc