Cruel Summer

Trying to save a failing relationship was like watering a dying plant. You know it's a futile attempt but you still do it anyway, hoping for an overnight miracle to restore it back to health. You change the soil in the flower pot, add fresh manure, cut off the dying parts, water and tend for it continuously, day-in-day-out. When it sprouts a fresh leaf, you're happy - thinking your efforts are bearing fruits. But with each new leaf it brings, other vital parts like the root withers and if the root is dead so are the new fresh leaves sprouted.

Slowly, inevitably, the plant dies at last and you're left with its shriveled remains.

Looking back I'd be kidding myself if I said I didn't know for months that Alex was drifting away from me. It all started a few weeks after the engagement ceremony. He was always out working late, and when he eventually came home he feigned tired to even eat my food, bringing more work with him and shut himself away in the dining room which he often used as his study. We didn't indulge anymore in those couple banters like we often used to, and for weeks we wouldn't even touch each other, let alone make love.

At first, I was sympathetic, knowing that his job was difficult and demanding. He handled high-powered financial shit that didn't make much sense to me no matter how many times he tried explaining it to me. But I grew accustomed to it and gave him space whenever I noticed he was in a Back-off mode. He'd insisted I moved into his swanky penthouse a few months after we met to further strengthen our relationship, and I'd been living there for three years. My friends had teased me endlessly about having a sugar daddy given the ten-year age difference between us, but that was only because they were jealous. Alex was a hottie, one of England's most eligible bachelors, known famously for nanosecond affairs before he met me. I changed him to become the good man he was today - or so I believed.

The night it all came down to ruin I'd taken my best friend Lyon's advice to make the first move at rekindling our dying relationship. It was a Friday, and Alex had texted me that he'd be home early for once so I'd stopped at the mall on my way home from work to purchase the condiments I'd use in making one of his favorite meals, and a bottle of his favorite red label. I even got flowers and scented candles for the table - to give the evening a romantic atmosphere. I planned to make light conversation and flirt - like in the old days - and then I was going to lead him up to the bed and have him make mad, passionate love to me and remind him how good it could be between us when we actually spend some time together.

But the minute he opened the door, saw the skimpy short dress I was wearing, and looked over my shoulder at the laid-out table his face gave him away.

"Oh, Sasha." His concerned expression was gut-wrenching, ripping my heart into shreds. It wasn't the reaction I'd anticipated. And what was worse was that his next words set the signals off that something was terribly wrong.

"Can we talk?"

Trying to play down the tension while ignoring the car crash unfolding in slow motion, I pulled him closer to kiss him softly on the lips like I always did. "Hey, dear. How was your day? It feels good to have you home on time for once. I've made Chicken Divan, just the way you like it. Why don't you go up and shower and we can have it together..." I droned on, babbling and fighting back tears at the reality of what was about to happen. I didn't want to listen to whatever it was he wanted to say because I knew what he wanted to say. I could tell by the blank, grim expression on his face that he knew I wasn't going to like it. "The oven timer will go off in about five min - "

"Sasha." His voice cut through my bullshit. My shoulders sagged in resignation. "Come sit down please."

Shit. If I needed to be sitting down it really wasn't going to be good. Could he be ill? Contracted HIV or some deadly sexually-transmitted disease that he'd unknowingly passed on to me and wanted to tell me about it? My stomach roiled, the sweet scent of dinner suddenly making me sick. Oh God, please let him not have AIDS.

I let him take my hand and lead me to the dining table, and kept hold of his hand as we sat across from each other. "What's the matter, dear?"

He pulled his hand away from mine, folded his arms, and leaned closer towards the table. I sat still, bracing myself for the blow as he swallowed, jaw set, and then said the last words I was expecting to hear.

"I've met someone else."

The silence that followed was enough to make the whole world tilt as I struggled to process what I'd just heard. "You...what? How? For how long have you been meaning to tell me?"

"Her name's Tessa. She's the new intern I've been working with for months now. We got together for a drink five weeks ago and now she wants more. And I want more too. With her, of course." He didn't even have the decency to look guilty as he laid bare the facts of his infidelity.

Head spinning, I stared at him, at a man who once seemed so familiar to me but was now a stranger, someone I didn't know at all. "So...what you're saying is... we're over? You're gonna throw away these three past years for some girl?"

"She's not some girl." I caught a flicker of affront in his eyes as he leaned back in his seat, broad shoulders lifting in his perfectly polished suit. "And yes we're over. This thing with Tessa, it started off as just casual sex - a no-strings-attached relationship. But I want to be with her now, not you."

'Not you'. The words boinged from one part of my brain to the other as rage coursed through me, drowning out the hurt. "I can't believe this." I stood up, scooting the chair back on the tiled floor. "You cheated on me? And you're not even sorry for it. Well then fuck you. Fuck you for sticking your dick down some whore while I was feeling sorry for you being tired and stressed about your job. I bet she's the reason you looked worn out when you come home every evening because you fuck her after office hours. Did you ever think about how I'd feel? What did I ever do to you? Was I a bitch to your business associates and they told you to cut me off? Am I getting too old for you now? Did Daddy need a new whore?"

He adjusted himself in discomfort which told me I'd hit a spot. I should have known. It was always my youth that'd attracted him, he preferred me to eat less to avoid growing overweight, and when I'd stopped using my waist trainer he'd complained my waist was filling out. But I didn't want to look like a sexy vixen forever. I was nearly thirty for Christ's sake; no amount of make-up and brush-ups was going to hide the fact that I was aging.

I tugged at the gold band he'd given me. Funnily enough, we still hadn't picked a date for the wedding. I guess he'd had other priorities.

Jerk.

I flung the ring at him in annoyance, watching it bounce off his chest and skittered on the kitchen floor, spinning and catching the sunlight before it slowly settled.

"I'll go pack my things."

"Where will you go? You've got nobody."

"That's not any of your business anymore is it?" I retorted icily, feeling the pain in my chest seep the last drop of life in my heart, replacing it with ash and stone. I needed to cling to my anger until I was somewhere safe. Someplace I wouldn't have Alex's betrayal haunt me.

I hurried out of the kitchen, slamming the door so loudly that it rattled the glass windows.

In our bedroom, I frantically threw the things I needed for a few days into a small bag. I'd come back for the rest once I decided the next step to take for my life. But for now, I just needed to get away from there, away from Alex, away from the place I'd called home for the past three years.

As soon as my bag was ready, I called an Uber.

Alex was still sitting at the kitchen table when I left. He was whispering over the phone. I wondered if he was inviting his new girlfriend to come over with her belongings now that the coast was clear.

"I'll call you when I'm ready to come to take the rest of my stuff."

He hung up on the phone and gave me a curt nod. "Okay. Stay safe."

And that was it. That was the only thing the guilty fucker could say.

I left without saying goodbye and as I made my way downstairs, I wished for some sort of miracle to make him realize what he was about to lose and come after me but no such thing happened.

It was only when I was waiting out in the rain for my Uber to arrive that I realized he never even apologized. It was mid-autumn and a bit chilly tonight and dressed in a rapidly dampening threadbare dress I'd worn to turn him on, I shivered as I waited, trying to keep myself going on the surge of adrenaline for just a while longer. I didn't even have the patience to change. I was fleeing after all.

When the Uber pulled up, I tossed my bag in the back and climbed in after it. Hunched in the back seat, I willed myself to hold my tears in a little longer.

"Where to, ma'am?" asked the driver who looked advanced.

I told him the address of the one place I wouldn't be thrown out of, where I'd always be welcomed, where I knew I'd get all the comfort I needed and be safe to fall apart.

Lyon's place.

It was a fucking bad hair day. Not only had I lost my job and my account was frozen, my date blew me off the last minute with a lame excuse. Add to that the pain Sasha was going through in the hands of her sugar daddy and I'd curse this fucking Monday all the ways to Sunday.

So, instead of being out drinking and maybe getting laid to wear off my sour mood, I was curled up alone on the sofa with a big bowl of chocolate ice cream for comfort. I wasn't expecting anyone so when my doorbell rang, I ignored it at first, and struggled to focus on Slow Dancing - which was a therapy whenever I was feeling down - and didn't want to move.

When the bell rang a second, third and fourth time, I grudgingly lifted myself off the sofa. Dressed only in tight boxer briefs, I didn't bother to put on more clothes, hoping to dismiss whoever was disturbing my peace quickly. If it was my naughty neighbour's kid, I sure won't like it if he had to deal with my semi from watching Cardi B's huge tits and tight arse. Perhaps it would get me on some prank backlist and maybe he'd leave me alone in the future.

Kids these days were so out of control.

I padded across the communal hall, past the hangers filled with baby clothes of the couple that lived upstairs and put on my least friendly face as I pulled the door open. Sasha was the last person I was expecting. We talked at length in the morning about her relationship problems and I'd suggested she made the first move to rekindle the dying fire between her and Alex. She'd gotten off the phone more optimistic than when she'd gotten on and I was positive whatever she'd planned must've been a success, but here she was out of the blue, shivering from the rain like a whippet which only meant one thing.

It hadn't gone well.

"Oh, hey babe. What happened?" I pulled her in for a hug and she clung onto me like a lifeline, breaking into great sobs that made my heart ache. I released her and carefully wiped off her tears. "It's okay. He doesn't deserve your tears."

She nodded, staring at me with dark, haunty eyes. "I...uh. I need somewhere to stay till I get back on my feet. Can you put me up for a while?"

It was only then that I looked down and realized she had a bag in hand. "Fuck. He threw you out too?"

She nodded.

Shit.

"Yes of course. Come in." I took the bag and pulled her in, shutting the door carefully and turned to drape an arm over her shoulders as I led her down the corridor to my flat. I dumped her bag in my closet, watching her walk straight into the living room and throw herself down of the sofa. When she saw the ice cream, she managed a small smile. "I suppose that's appropriate. Are you having a shitty day too? Do you have enough ice cream for me to drown myself in as well?"

I plopped down on the sofa next to her. "Well if you count the job loss and frozen account, I guess it's just as bad a day as yours."

"Fuck, you lost your job?" her eyes widened. "Why, what did you do?"

I shrugged. "Something about my boss being a bitch cause I won't fuck her." She laughed and it was genuine.

"Wow. Guess she was really into your dick to fire you."

"It comes with a crown, princess."

"Like all dicks do. Give it up, there's nothing special about yours." She rolled her eyes.

"Alex included?" I cocked my head, smirking.

"Well of course." She flipped me off. "I don't know...I never thought I'd live to see the day Alex and I...would break up. We were so close to getting married." Tension and anger coated her features, but I could see the fragility under the surface, as if she was ready to crack. I scooted close so she could rest her head on my shoulder. She was still shivering, prompting me to put the blanket around her shoulder. "Sasha. What the hell happened?"

She sniffled and looked down at her hands as she replied. "Alex found another girl. She's his new intern whom he fucks after office hours. I can't believe it's all over. He threw away all these years and everything we've built together for some whore."

Fuck. I mean, it was obvious it was a relationship crisis with the bag and all...but I still hadn't been expecting Alex to treat her that way. And the awful part about hearing those words was that a tiny, selfish part of me was glad they'd broken up because let's be honest...I never liked Alex.

He seemed like the perfect guy from afar and Sasha had talked about him nonstop after they went on their first date - perhaps that's why I hated him, having to hear my best friend sing his praises like he was some god. Before she met Alex, I'd been hoping that maybe one day I'd have a chance with Sasha because I'd always had a crush on her. But no. Alex had walked into the picture and put a painful stop to those dreams.

Right now, Sasha was hurting, and I needed to put my own feelings aside and be the best friend she needed. "Are you sure?" I asked. Maybe Alex was under the influence of something to say those words. "I don't believe he'd cheat on you, I mean he adored you."

But not as much as I do.

"Yes of course. You needed to be there to see the way he told me it's over. Like he was getting rid of a trash he no longer needed. I wouldn't want him back even though he came after me crawling through mud in the rain or buried himself in snow."

"Shit. I'm so sorry."

She scoffed. "Aren't you going to start jumping and thumping? You never liked him."

I didn't bother denying it. That was why we always kept our friendship a secret from Alex. Alex and I had no common interests apart from Sasha. The few times Alex and I shared each other's company, it had been weird and stilted - I tried to avoid such occasions as much as possible in a bid not to upset Sasha by getting into a row with her lover. Alex liked to talk about finance, politics, blockbuster movies and war books that sounded boring. I liked to talk about fitness, sports and romance novels. Sasha knew just about everything, but being with Alex made her dull. I missed the Sasha who'd always be thrilled by the prospect of going to the park and staying up all night gaming, or binge watching Slow Dancing - a personal favourite of ours.

"No," I said firmly. "I'd never jump and thump because I don't like him and you finally realized what an idiot he is. He doesn't deserve you, that's all. I won't mind going over there and beat him up for you." I was mostly joking. Much as I'd love to punch him in the face for being a dick, I wasn't really a supporter of violence unless you counted my boxing routine where I kicked the hell out of a punching bag.

"Thanks, Lyons," She said with a feeble attempt at a smile. "I know you're right, but it...it hurts." She bent over, burying her face between her palms.

I tightened my arm around her, rubbing softly and she sat up, melting into my embrace. A faint sob escaped her, and the dam burst. I held her close while she cried and my heart twisted as protective anger blazed through me.

Fucking Alex.

She cried for hours, and by the time the tears had dried up, she was a sullen, snotty mess. She finally disentangled herself. "Ugh, I look gross. Sorry I got snot all over you." She sniffled, wiping the nose with the bag of her hand. "Got any tissues?"

"They're in my bedroom. Be back in a minute." I went to the bedroom and got my wanking tissues from the cabinet beside my bed. Then I made a beeline for the kitchen to get some wine. We could drink all night and forget about everything Alex, even if it was for a little while. Her distress tore me. I hated seeing her that way.

When I got back, she was stirring the ice-cream sulkily. "I can't even have this anymore. It's melted and doesn't look appetizing now. Have you got any more?"

"Nope." I smiled then held up the bottle in my hand. "But I've got chardonnay. Brighten up."

She gave me a small smile, much better than the last. "Thanks. That'll do."

I handed the tissues over and popped the bottle open while she blew her nose. I forgot to get some wineglasses, but remembered that we'd always drank wine out of a bottle together. The first night I met her, we'd stayed up till five sloshing back wine and flirting like crazy, and I'd been hoping on having great sex with her but we'd ended up passing out on the sofa. That cemented our friendship and we've been best friends ever since.

After I'd taken the first swing, I passed her the bottle, grimacing as the burning liquid coursed down to my stomach.

She took a glug and I chuckled at her gagging expression. "Yikes. This shit burns."

I laughed as she took another sip before handing it back. "Want something to mix it up with? I've got some Sprite."

"Nah, I'll manage." She affirmed. We sat in silence for a few minutes, passing the bottle back and forth until I became fuzzy from all the alcohol in my system. When she handed the bottle back my way, I held up a hand. "I'm okay."

"If you say so." She placed the bottle down with a clunk and leaned back with a sigh, staring into space forlornly. I hated seeing her like this, sad and downcast. She' always been a buzzy girl, full of life and fun when we were college students. She'd been a perfect wingman, always up for a challenge, or party.

"You know what really sucks?" Sasha asked, wringing her fingers quietly. Assuming the question was rhetorical, I waited for her to say more and she continued, her tone soft and edgy. "He was the one who wanted us to get married, to spend the rest of our lives together. I wasn't really a big fan of putting a ring on it and all that jazz but it seemed important to him. I thought that he just wanted it to keep me with him, to show how much he truly loves and wouldn't want to lose me. Thank goodness I found out about his cheating arse before we got married otherwise I wouldn't have known my way around getting a divorce." Then she groaned, recollecting something. "Fuck. I better get to the sexual health clinic ASAP. Not that we've had sex in a while but I haven't seen my monthly period. It was supposed to come last week but so far nothing. I don't want to find out I'm pregnant with that bastard's baby."

"Yeah, that'd be bad." I'd never had a relationship that serious with anyone. I'd never known how it feels to have trusted someone so much and then have your trust abused? Without thinking I reached for her hand and squeezed. "I'm sorry he wasn't what you expected."

She squeezed back. "There's no reason for you to be sorry."

"Yeah, I know." I held her hand for a while longer and she let me. I wished I could absorb all her pain through some sort of osmosis. "But I hate seeing you this way. I wish there was something I could do to make you feel better."

"Well, chardonnay and company. I'm okay with that."

"Want to watch TV too? It's a good distraction to keep you from thinking too much."

"Sure. Slow Dancing will do. Suites my mood." She grinned.

"Alright. Coming right up."

I watched Lyons reach out for the remote control, and wiped away the last spools of tears. He leaned back and pulled me closer. The contact of his hands around the small of my back felt good as I clung to his side, though this wasn't a position we'd always adopted every movie night. We'd always sit on each sides of the sofa with my legs up on his thighs as he stroked my toes for example, or I'd lay with my head on his thighs and he stroked my hair as we made small talk while watching our favourite rom-coms. But this was new. Perhaps he sensed how much I needed it.

I was cutting up inside and I needed him to glue the pieces together.

He'd always been an immense support to me. Best friends since college days, we'd seen each other through mathematical crises, relationship issues, family dramas, and the loss of loved ones. He'd been there for me when I lost my mother and had no one to support me in the hospital because my father had ran away and my brother was terribly sick. I'd gone to him when he lost his gran and the family's dog. He was the one person I trusted, who was always there for me to count on. Even when he'd been living at the other side of the world before he finally returned to Bristol City for good, he was my go-to person. The one I called when a blind date flopped and I was feeling down, or had exciting news to share.

He blew my hair apart to kiss me on the forehead, scrolling through Netflix. "Okay, how about episode twenty? My favourite."

"Sounds perfect." I said in a sleepy voice, enjoying the warmth that wafted off his skin. I noticed the trail of hair that ran down his stomach for the first time since I arrived. I'd been too wrapped up in grief to check him out closely, and looking back to past years I realized I'd never paid his looks much closer attention. He was only wearing black boxer briefs and I didn't want him to catch a cold. I'd warmed up now and my clothes had dried with the heat coming off his body but still felt he needed to have something on. Sitting up to pull the comfy blanket off my shoulders. "Here." I draped it over both our laps and then reached for the wine bottle again.

We watched a full season as we passed the bottle back and forth. Slow Dancing had always been our favourite movie since uni. It had quite an exquisite plot with a deceptive female lead and a gorgeous male lead who'd gotten blind from an accident. Lyons and I loved the steam and the emotions the love between these two left us with, which was why we never got tired of watching it multiple times - and it was exactly what I needed tonight. A temporary escape from my petty reality. I wasn't ready to wallow in the impact Alex's betrayal left me with nor how it'd wreck my life onwards. The alcohol helped a great deal and by the time we'd gone half the second season, I was giggling at nothing at all - too drunk to care about anything.

I blinked as the new episode began, feeling like I was floating upwards. Lyons lay sprawled beside me, his breathing deep as he slept and his feet up on the coffee table. At some point I'd slumped sideways with my head on his laps like we normally did and he put his arms around my bosom, his skin warm and solid, and I felt weird from the contact. It made me realize how long it'd been when Alex last showed me such physical affection. This should have been some sort of clue to me that something was wrong somewhere - something other than being overworked and tired.

"You still up, Sash?" I felt him adjust as he rubbed at his bleary eyes with the back of his palm.

"Y-Yeah." I slurred, too lazy to move and in no mood to talk. I was warm and cozy, and having Lyons close helped to dissipate the ache in my heart. Not talking helped me not to think about anything other than the present.

He yawned and stretched out his arms, ribs lifting as he mistakenly tipped the empty bottle with his foot. "You're gonna feel like shit in the morning."

"How long have we been watching this movie?" I asked, head spinning and eyes blurry.

"Been an hour. Sorry Sash, mind if I use the restroom for a minute?"

"Oh yes. Of course." I sat up, scooting closer to my original position that evening so he could stand and collapsed on the arm rest so I was lying on the sofa. The room tilted a bit with the movement. "Ugh. My head hurts."

I drifted off for a few minutes before Lyons returned, the sofa dipping as he sat on the other edge. He patted my cheek softly. "Sash? Get up and drink this, and then we should turn in for the night." He was holding out a glass of water and reeked of toothpaste.

I took the glass from him and gulped down its contents, the cool droplets coursing through my bloodstream, diluting the alcohol and restoring some sanity. "Thanks." I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

He took the glass and put it down for me. "Go wash up your teeth and stuff. I'll make the sofa bed up."

Standing up was a challenge, but I managed it. I rummaged through my bag for my toothbrush and other bathing essentials and went to the bathroom. After easing myself a bit of all the alcohol and water in my system, I brushed my teeth, then rinsed and spat. As I straightened up to stare at my sullen reflection in the mirror, the room spun around me. I gripped the edge of the sink to keep steady and gasped at the stranger that stared back at me. The skin around my eyes that was normally fair was ghostly pale in the bright light of the bathroom and my flaxen hair was the only splash of colour against the utilitarian white tiles and walls. The large bags underneath my eyes looked as though they'd been stitched in place by a sewing machine. I felt weak too, fighting down a wave of pain as thoughts about Alex pushed out from the alcohol recesses of my brain. I shoved them back, not wanting to deal with that now and turned on the shower.

Back in the room, Lyons had unfolded the sofa into a bed which I knew from experience wouldn't qualify as the most comfy thing in the world, having lounged on it the few times Alex and I had our mini fights and I was too angry to sleep under the same roof with him. But I was too hurt to care about feeling comfortable - too hurt to feel anything at all.

He spread out a sheet, bending over to tuck it in and I stood by, admiring the tight curvature of his arse. I ripped my gaze away as he straightened back up and turned to face me. "Ugh, I feel so woozy. You'll need to help with the duvet cover. I'll never be able to do it alone with this much booze."

I laughed and poked his stomach before we got the duvet under the cover. Once it was on the sofa bed, he flopped onto it with a groan, face down and his arms out sideways. "God, I feel beyond shitty. You're the cause of this Sasha. You tempted me to drink."

I giggled. "I thought this was supposed to be my bed."

He held up a finger. "Yup, be out in a minute."

Shrugging, I pulled on my nightdress and got into the bed. There was just enough space for me on one side with him curled up in a heap on top of the covers. I rubbed at my eyelids which were beginning to drop almost as soon as I laid down, the heavy exhaustion of alcohol and too much emotion weighing down on me. I was just about to drift off when he began to snore.

"Lyons." I patted his cheeks softly. "Go to your bed, or at least get under the covers if you're too tired to move so much."

He groaned, but heaved himself up. "I'm going. Nighty Night."

"Nighty Night." I mumbled.

He turned off the lights on his way out, plunging me into inky darkness with the moon filtering in through the windows that were slightly drawn apart to let in some air. The last thing I heard was the click of his bedroom door before I sunk into a dreamless abyss.