Hurtful Words

It was early morning. A cool, bright light shone through the window and I turned my head to escape its glare. Ronnie gave a low, throaty groan as I moved in his arms. His brow furrowed until I lay still again and a softer expression crossed his face. “Ronnie,” I mumbled, touching his arm gently. He ignored me, simply pulling me closer to him as I spoke. “Ronnie,” I repeated a little louder.
“What?” he muttered, burying his nose in my hair. I pushed him away.
“I’m going to be late,” I said and sat up, swinging my legs over the side of Ronnie’s bed. The cool floorboards sent a chill through my body as they touched the soles of my bare feet.
“So?” he growled and wrapped his arms around me once more, pulling me back down onto the bed.
“Ronnie,” I whined, “Ronnie, get off.” I climbed out of bed and found an old t-shirt of his on the floor, pulling it over my head.
“Where are you going?” he asked, sitting up to look at me. His hair was sticking up in odd directions and his eyes, squinting to avoid the sunlight, were rimmed with the smudgy black liner they usually wore.
“Work,” I replied, grabbing my jeans off of the floor and leaving the room. I quickly grabbed my cell phone out of my pocket and began to dial when I saw Max out of the corner of my eye. He was leaning against the kitchen bench with his arms crossed firmly over his chest. He was frowning.
“I know what I’m doing, Max,” I sighed.
“I know.”
“Then stop treating me like I’m making some huge mistake,” I begged. He looked down at his feet, scuffing his black sneakers against the tiled floor.
“I just want you to be happy, Lindsey,” he said quietly.
“I am happy.” Aren’t I?

When Max left for work, I took my cell phone again, dialled and waited for an answer. “Hey, it’s me,” I said, my voice quavering with nervousness as the person on the other end of the line picked up. “Listen, can I meet you somewhere?” I asked, picking at a loose thread at the hem of Ronnie’s shirt, “I think we need to talk.”

I swung the door to the diner open and searched the few people inside for a familiar face. There, toward the back, sitting at a table by himself was Ashlin. He was looking down at a large white mug of coffee sitting on the table in front of him. He looked up as the door closed behind me and waved me over. I bit my lip gently and sat across from him. “Hi,” I said meekly. He smiled sadly.
“It’s not good, is it?” he asked, stirring the black coffee in front of him. The smell of it was enough to make my stomach churn. I rested my hands in my lap.
“I’m so sorry, Ashlin,” I told him. He shook his head slowly and gave a soft laugh and looked toward the window. I reached up behind my neck and unclasped the diamond pendant he had given me for my birthday. I untangled it from my hair and reached across the table and opened Ashlin’s hand, placing it inside.
“No, no,” he said, trying to hand it back, “you keep it.” I shook my head.
“I can’t,” I told him.
“I should have known,” he said, “I should have known from the moment I met you.” My brow furrowed in confusion.
“Should have known what?” I asked. He looked up from his mug at me, his light blue eyes tired and dull.
“That you were too good to be true,” he replied quietly.
“Don’t say that, Ashlin,” I said, feeling a pang of guilt in my stomach.
“You know what, it’s fine,” he mumbled, getting up from his chair and dropping a couple of crumpled dollar bills on the table. I stood up beside him and he wrapped his arms around me in a warm hug.
“I’m really going to miss you,” he laughed softly into my hair. I rubbed his back gently before pulling away from the hug. “Bye Lindsey.”
“Bye Ashlin,” I replied and followed him with my eyes as he left the diner and crossed the street. I flopped down by the table again, letting go of the breath I felt as if I’d been holding since I left the apartment. People came and went, and I reached across the table for Ashlin’s mug. I’d always hated coffee but sitting in that diner, I finished the whole mug full.

When I got back to the apartment, no one was home. I dropped my keys on the sofa and hung my coat up by the door. I went to the bathroom and twisted the tap, filling the small tub with lukewarm water. I pulled my shirt over my head and empty half a bottle of bubble bath into the tub. I tugged my jeans down my legs as the white, foamy bubble rose and, taking off my underwear, I sunk into the tub. I don’t know how long I was in there for but eventually the bubbles began to disappear until there was only a thin, white layer on the surface of the water. I sighed and wiped my cheeks, damp with tears, when the door opened. “Ronnie,” I groaned, “I’ll only be a couple of minutes.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bath. I quickly shifted the few bubbles floating on top of the water to cover myself.
“Ronnie,” I growled, nudging him with my foot, “Get out.” He opened his mouth to say something when the door to the apartment opened and slammed shut.
“Where is everyone?” Max’s voice echoed through into the bathroom. I groaned again and pressed a hand to my forehead.
“In here!” Ronnie replied. Max appeared in the doorway and leant against the frame.
“Looking good, Lindsey,” he joked. I rolled my eyes.
“Yeah, nice to see you too, Max,” I replied sarcastically.
“Now, now,” he said, waggling a finger in my direction, “I come bearing gifts.” He held up an open bottle of champagne and three mugs. He filled them sloppily and handed one to Ronnie and I before flopping down on the toilet seat and drinking straight from the bottle.
“What’s this for?” I asked. Max shrugged.
“Consider it a housewarming,” he replied.
“You know we all moved in just under a year ago, right?” Ronnie laughed, raising an eyebrow at Max.
“Yeah, I know,” he replied, smirking.
“Are you drunk or something, Max?” I asked, holding a washcloth over my chest and wishing they’d both just get out of the bathroom.
“Not yet,” he smiled and motioned at me with the champagne bottle.
“Yeah, Linds,” Ronnie laughed, “Stop being such a downer.” I narrowed my eyes at him as I recognised the looked on his face.
“Ronnie, no,” I protested, holding a finger in the air, “Don’t.” His smile widened as he let himself fall back over the edge of the tub into the bath on top of me. Water splashed over the edge onto the floor and pooled at Max’s feet. “Ronnie,” I whined, squirming beneath him.
“You love me,” he replied, smiling contentedly and making no effort to move. I tried to push him off me but it wouldn’t work and his grin grew wider as he leant over and pressed his lips to mine in a moist, soapy kiss. Max, who had been giggling wildly the entire time, had suddenly gone quiet. I looked over as he bent forward and reached into the water that had collected on the bathroom floor. “What’s this?” he asked and I watched as he pulled a silvery chain from the water. It had been in the pocket of my jeans and must’ve fallen out when I threw them in the hamper.
“That’s Lindsey’s,” Ronnie replied and took the heart-shaped pendant from Max, handing it to me. I wrapped my fingers around it as I sat my mug of champagne on the edge of the bath. When I looked up at Ronnie again, he had a small, hopeful smile on his face. I leant forward again, placing my fingers beneath his chin, and let my lips brush ever so slightly against his. When I pulled away, I gave him a reassuring smile and, holding the washcloth to my chest, I put the pendant around my neck. Ronnie reached his hands to the back of neck and fumbled with the clasp until it finally caught. I sat back against the tub and smiled at Ronnie as he grabbed my fingers. “Oh, please,” Max mumbled, getting up to leave, “get a room.”

It was almost seven o’clock. The three of us were sitting in front of the television watching some sitcom, the open box of pizza on the coffee table in front of us. Max was slumped in the armchair and was drifting off to sleep, the champagne finally having taken effect. Ronnie was sitting beside me with his arms wrapped around my shoulders as he held me close to his chest. His skin was soft and warm, and his hair was still damp from the bath. Even though he was wearing a clean shirt, he still managed to smell like cigarettes. I leant against him as he kissed the top of my head. The up and down movement of his chest began to slow as he started to fall asleep as well. He stirred slightly and rested his head on my shoulder, pressing his nose to the skin of my neck, inches away from the tarnished silver pendant that sat between my collarbones. I thought he was asleep when he murmured against me skin. “You’re not going to leave me, are you Lindsey?” he asked, closing his eyes and burying his face in the space between my neck and my shoulder. I didn’t reply as the credits began to roll across the television screen and, eventually, Ronnie fell asleep. I leant back against the couch, letting my hair fall out of my face and brush against the tip of his nose. He gave a muffled groan, but didn’t wake, and wrapped his arms around me a little tighter. Ronnie Radke finally had me right where he wanted me.