Through the Light of the Bottle

“You didn’t have to leave,” her voice crackles softly over the clunky hotel receiver, her smile plain to my ears.

I bite my lip, snapping my eyes shut as she speaks calmly, my heart still racing, the events that had unfolding a half an hour ago running through my head and hitting my heart going ninety five.

“Yes, I did,” my voice cracks slightly and my whole body cringes at the imperfections lying on the surface for Jamia.

“Why?” she asks softly and carefully.

“I just had a bad break-up,” I choke out a lie, clearing my throat violently.

“I’m sorry,” the sympathy drips from her voice and I can picture the pity smile that adorns her face currently.

Silence sets in and I feel my eyes begin to sting, the pools of memories forming, blurring my current situation.

“Come out to the bar with us,” she suddenly speaks up, her voice filled with pride.

“Invite the lonely, sad girl out for a couple of shots, what are you, on a fucking service project?” I mock her cynically, slamming the receiver back to the body of the phone.

“Fuck her,” I whisper to myself, sitting on the edge of the bed, holding my head in my hands.

My cell buzzes across the bedside table and falls to the floor in seizures. I grab it, the vibrations shaking my hands and moving through my whole body as I stare at the caller ID.

“Michael Keynes,” little blue letters flash innocently at me. I freeze.

Fuck.

I click the talk button and put the phone up to my ear hesitantly and clear my voice.

“Hey you,” a synthetic smile forms seamlessly across my face.

“Miss me?” his deep voice fills the corners of the room, looming over my figure, hunched over on the bed.

“Course,” the sugar sweetness in my voice makes me physically cringe. My head shoots up as I hear a soft tap on the door.

“Knew it,” arrogance takes over his tone, and I roll my eyes, walking to the door and opening it leisurely.

Gerard walks in quickly, grabbing my waist and pressing his figure into the grooves of mine.

“How about you,” I bite my lip teasingly, staring into his eyes, “you miss me?”

His head nods, as his free hand grabs the back of my head and he places a quiet kiss on my lips.

“Well, you know, it’s been fucking hectic over here,” his ego filling my ears. Gerard moves down to my neck, attacking the skin gently, making me have to bite my lip to keep from moaning. He pushes me backwards, and my knees buckle against the corner of the bed.

“The firm has been swamped lately, all these fucking charges against our clients, suing them left and right,” I hear him move around, a refrigerator door opens and I hear the clinks of his nightly bottle. Gerard’s hand creeps to the hem of my shirt, slowly lifting it up and over my head and I miss the last sentence that Michael spoke.

“Oh, yea, too bad,” I feign interest as my hand runs down Gerard’s cheek and to his chest, tugging at he shirt until he gets to message to take it off.

“Seriously, I mean,” he takes a long gulp of his beer and continues droning on, “you’d have to be retarded to not think that smoking kills,”

“Definitely,” my head falls back on to the pillow as Gerard slowly slips my jeans off me.

“So they feel the need to sue just because they can’t read a fucking label?” he laughs, the sound dripping with his expectation for me to join in at any time, “who do they think they are?”

I accomplish the almost impossible task of steadying my voice as I feel Gerard move inside of me. I bite my lip hard, willing a laugh to come from my mouth.

“But yeah,” he continues after he is satisfied with my amusement, “me and a couple of guys were going to go downtown for a beer or two,” his voice trails off and I hear him down the last of the bottle.

“Oh,” I try to make the statement sound as innocent as possible, but a small sigh escapes as Gerard picks up speed.

“Don’t be disappointed babe;” he laughs egotistically, “You’ll see us all in a couple of days.”

“Right,” my voice is slightly shaking as Gerard kisses my shoulder, biting it every so often and I hit my high quickly. I feel the metal taste of blood on my tongue from biting my lip to restrain the cries from leaking from my mouth.

Michael laughs suddenly and launches into a story involving Doug Nelson and three baskets of bar peanuts that happened last night.

I pull the phone away from my ear for a second and whisper Gerard’s name into his ear as he hits his climax, and I feel him shudder slightly over me.

I laugh awkwardly as I see his eyes travel from my body to the nightstand and catch on the small ring sitting on the wooden surface, the diamonds shining tentatively under the yellowed light.

“Bye babe, I love you,” his voice floats through the phone and it seems too loud suddenly, as I feel Gerard quickly slide off the bed. He pulls on his boxers and jeans, refusing to look me in the eye as he tugs his tee shirt over his head.

“Love you too,” I quietly reply, the click of his phone and the slam of the door reaching my ears simultaneously.