TOGETHER FOR A NIGHT

It felt as though a weighty boulder rested upon my heart. The ache, dear heavens, the agony was akin to a slow-spreading cancer. Heartbreak, that's what it mirrored. Initially, there was the excruciating pain, followed by a numbing hollowness.

To be honest with myself, the numbness had set in long before just five days ago. Daniel and I hadn't been intimate for weeks, and well before that, my orgasms had ceased. My once joyful experiences had withered away like an aged prune, defying all attempts to rekindle them.

I found myself in a state of frigidity, an unexpected and unwelcome development. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. I was in my prime and should have been enjoying mind-blowing sex at least four times a week, but it had dwindled to a mere quarterly occurrence. Moreover, I had to initiate every single time.

Taking a seat on a stool at the kitchen bar, I stared at a cup of steaming tea in front of me. It was well past dinner time, but my appetite had deserted me. I clutched the cup, hoping to still my trembling hands. Never before had I felt such a profound sense of betrayal and embarrassment in my life.

"I still can't believe you cheated on me," I said, more to myself than anyone else.

Daniel and I weren't exactly on speaking terms ever since I found out that he'd been cheating on me about five days ago. That's when my world had come crashing down, the pain almost unbearable.

Despite the urge telling me not to look, I glanced over at Daniel sitting on the couch - his favorite spot in the small apartment we rented together - and I wanted to bash him across the head with something hard.

Just as the thought crossed my mind, he turned his head to look at me, his brown eyes filled with pity for me. There was a time when I used to look into his eyes only to see love and affection staring back at me.

But those days were over now. Gone. Adios. Now he pitied me.

"I don't know what else to say to you, Lauren. Anna was there for me when you weren't." He shrugged his shoulders and went back to staring at the TV, totally engrossed in his episode of Friends.

His answer caught me by surprise. Had I spoken that loudly?

"Here for you how?" I whispered.

He tore his eyes from the TV once more, his eyebrows dipping low and slanting as if I was harassing the hell out of him.

"Sexually."

One word.

That's all it took for me to feel like I'd been sucker-punched in the gut. Five days ago when I'd asked why he cheated his answer had been different. He said it had to do with me being busy and always so focused on my art, but now I got to hear the truth. It was ugly.

"You never complained about sex." My voice came out harsher than intended, the edges dripping with unconcealed pain. Why did my throat feel like I'd had cactus for breakfast?

Daniel reached over for the remote control on the coffee table and muted the tv. "I don't know, Lauren. The whole you not coming thing kind of freaked me out. There was nothing I could do to make you come. Do you know what something like that does to a man's ego? I started thinking maybe you were cheating on me or that you were no longer attracted to me. I couldn't think of a logical reason why you would just stop coming after so many years."

Alright. He was talking. This was good. Maybe I would get the closure I needed.

I wrapped my hand around the warm teacup and cleared my throat. "I told you I don't know why it happened. We talked about this, and we agreed that if I didn't come within six months I was going to see a sex therapist, but it's only been like four months?"

"And in those four months we had sex like what? About seven times, maybe eight? Most of it was in the first week after we found out about your little problem. You pulled away from me, Lauren. You didn't want to make love like before."

"I didn't, but I was always the one to initiate sex, and yes, when I found out I wasn't getting off I stopped, but you never made a move. The seven or eight times we did it was because of me. I told you I didn't have to come to enjoy sex. So stop pretending like my orgasm problem is the reason our sex life died!"

I slammed my hand on the tiled surface of the counter. The teacup rattled, but didn't fall over. This was stupid. I felt stupid as shit. Talking to Daniel was like talking to a three year old. Nothing was ever his fault.

Breathe in. Breath out. Daniel would not derail me this day... and he had better do something about those eyebrows before I went over there and plucked them out, one by one.

"Look, I get all of that. There is no valid explanation for what I did. I didn't approach you because I didn't see the point if you were getting nothing out of it. I needed to feel like a man. I needed to feel wanted and I needed to know that I could still make a woman come and that the problem wasn't me." Again, his eyebrows slashed inward and then he shrugged.

I ignored the tremor of my hand as I lifted the teacup to my lips. The burn was instant. I clamped my jaw shut, all the while rubbing my tongue along the upper ceiling of my mouth as my taste-buds shriveled up like sandpaper.

The hot liquid rushed down my throat, leaving a wake of fire on its way down to my gut. I held back tears.

The tea tasted like crap anyways. Chamomile, bland, no sugar. Just how I liked it, normally.

But today, today was different. I was tired of hearing Anna's name come out of my ex-boyfriend's mouth. The tea was supposed to help tone down the foul mood I'd been in the last past days, but it clearly wasn't working.

To top it off, I hadn't expected him to answer my quiet query, and now that he had, I felt a sharp tinge of anger course through my blood.

He blamed my non existent orgasms on me. Whatever had caused my orgasms to disappear had also lowered my libido, hence my lack of interest. So instead of helping me, he had gone out of his way to find out if he could make another woman come, and it appeared that he could. Now we were broken up and I had heard enough.

"When will you get your stuff out of my apartment?" I asked.

Daniel was sitting across from me with his arms crossed defensively. I wanted to reach out and slap the smug look off his face. Or throw the hot tea at him. Instead I strolled over to the sink, emptied the teacup, and then rinsed it out before putting it on the dish rack to drip.

"I need time." He got up from the sofa, stretching his arms above his head as he walked toward me. "At least a month."

"No, I want you gone by next week or I'm changing the locks".

He stopped less than a foot in front of me, his masculine frame towering over me. His brown eyes darkened as he reached out to tuck my hair behind my ears. I slapped his hand away, disgusted by who he had become.

"Come on, Lauren, don't be like that," he said.

"Like what? Like I should have been all along. I've had it up to here with your bullshit." I pointed at my throat to drive my point home. "I let you treat me like crap. It's time for you to go. You cheated on me not just once, but for almost two months. I had sex with you at least once in these two months. You could have given me a STD, or even worse, HIV."

He was getting on my nerves. I needed him out of my hair as soon as possible. His presence was stifling me. Every time he touched me images of those same hands touching another woman would pop up in my mind. I was so done with him.

Now that he was leaving I could stop overdosing my ovaries on the pill. Those hormones couldn't possibly be all good, but I was elated that I'd never gotten pregnant by him.

"You know what," he sneered, "I'll be gone by tonight. Good luck paying for this apartment on your own. Don't come crying to me to help you with anything. We both know you suck as an artist. Nobody wants to buy your crappy art anyway." His voice was laced with venom, his eyes filled with animosity.

"Fuck you," I said, my anger getting the best of me. "I'll be better off without you."

I couldn't believe his audacity. I paid half of the bills and I had my savings, so his absence wouldn't necessarily cripple me financially. I did have a strict budget though, and I needed the extra money to pay for my art supplies and other important stuff.

His words didn't surprise me. He had never supported my work, but he had also never been this mean to me. It was funny how a breakup could bring out the bitter in a person. Daniel rarely showed emotion, nothing fazed him. He lived a laid back life that enabled me to keep going down the path that had finally led to our destruction.

Daniel and Lauren were no more. May they rest in peace.

"I'm sure you'll be better off without me," he said. "I don't doubt that for a minute. It can't be that hard to find a guy who's willing to put up with all your crazy tendencies. I can't believe you put your art before our relationship. Three damn years down the drain, because you let a little bit of fame get to your head." He shook his head in disdain, the muscles of his jaw clenching. "I loved you. I fucking loved you."

"Blame it all on me if you must, but you're the one who went and stick your filthy dick up another woman's vagina, Daniel. Not me. Yes, I neglected our relationship, but that was reparable. What you did? Unforgivable."

I wanted to scream at him until I turned blue in the face, but what good would that do? We'd had this conversation before.

He stormed off into our shared bedroom and I followed him. I stood at the door and watched him pull the biggest suitcase we owned from on top of the dresser and slammed it down on the bed, sending a fine coat of dust up into the air.

Memories of us making love on the bed came rushing at me. He'd been my first. My first love, my first everything. The first time I'd ever gotten drunk was with him. After that, we'd hunted for my first apartment together. Later that year I'd gone on my first vacation in Paris without my mother with him at my side. We'd done so much together that I couldn't imagine doing any of those things without him.

"Where did you put my Manchester sweater?" he asked, bringing my focus back to him.

I eyed him warily and pointed at the hamper where we kept our dirty clothes. He lifted the hamper and emptied all its contents onto the carpet. After he'd sorted out his clothes he left the remaining pile on the floor and went into the bathroom to get more stuff.

Back at the bed he took out his iPhone and dialed. "I need you to pick me up in 20 mins. I'll text you the address." He hung up and pocketed the phone.

"Where will you go?" I asked.

Why did I even care? Really? Why?

"What does it matter to you?" Again there was disdain in his tone.

Another heap of stuff was added to the suitcase. He stopped and ran his hand back and forth through his dark curls and sighed. Standing at the foot of the bed he looked around the room as if he too was reminiscing on days gone by.

Was that sadness I sensed? Probably not. He was most likely relieved to be rid of me.

"Don't forget your watch," I said.

I ignored his previous question because it did matter and I still cared. The watch was a much safer topic to talk about considering the anger I felt simmering beneath the surface. I'd gotten it for him two years ago for his birthday. It was an expensive G-shock with an army pattern on it. He loved that watch.

"You can keep it. I don't want it." He forcefully shut his suitcase, sliding the zippers across the top.

That hurt.

Moving away from the doorway I took up my dirty clothes and put them back into the hamper.

So this was goodbye then.

I was going to miss him, but I'd never let him know that. I eyed him from the corner of my eyes, taking in his profile. His jaw muscles clenched and unclenched as he took one last look around the room. He had what I considered to be above average manly features. A squared jaw, broad forehead and a strong nose. All complemented by dark burnish skin that was mesmerizing to look at. He also stood quite tall and I was going to miss putting my head on his chest.

The muscles of his arms bunched under the weight of the suitcase as he lifted it to the floor. I looked away, not wanting to remember his arms wrapped around me.

He coughed and I glanced up at him. Our eyes met awkwardly. Unspoken words floated in the air between us. Unsaid. Unheard. I hated him for cheating on me. Hated that I had to feel this way. I felt helpless and dejected. Where did I go from here without him?

"Lauren ..."

I shook my head at him. "Don't say it."

"We had something good."

A clump of bile threatened to clog up my throat. I swallowed. "Please, there is no need for niceties. Just let it go. It's over."

The doorbell rang, the shrill sound filling up the stale air between us.

"I'll get the door," I said before running away and curving the corner like that guy in Get Out.

I would have done anything to get away from him right now. I didn't want to say goodbye. Didn't want to accept the fact that it was really over.

I pulled the door open and came face to face with a young woman. A stunningly beautiful young woman. For a second or two I couldn't breathe.

"Hi, I'm Olga. I'm here to pick up Daniel?"

I couldn't believe my eyes or my ears. The infamous Anna was standing at my door. The girl didn't look a day over nineteen. I'd imagine Anna to be so many things, and none of them came close to the spectacle standing before me.

Anna had apparently just gotten out of the shower. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, her tinted face scrubbed clean, no trace of makeup detectable. Big, round, doe eyes with the longest set of eyelashes that I had ever seen stared back at me.

"Hello, Is Daniel here?" Even her voice sounded young and I couldn't help but cringe.

I opened my mouth to answer her, but the words wouldn't come out. All I could think about was how Anna could have an orgasm and I couldn't.

Lucky bitch.

She was not only strikingly pretty, but she now had a man who could make her come during sex. Life didn't get any better than that, did it?

Well, just maybe, because Anna was most probably a model or something in show business, or her father was rich and she hadn't worked a day in her life.

I heard Daniel approaching behind me, but I couldn't take my eyes off of Anna, who was dressed in a white sheer top and a flared polka dot skirt. She didn't have much going on curve wise, but she definitely had an America's-next-top-model face and legs as long as a giraffe's.

Daniel showed up at the door, his wide shoulders pushing me aside so he could talk to Anna. "Give me a minute, Anna. I need to grab my suitcase," he said, before disappearing into the bedroom again.

"How do you know Daniel?" I finally asked after I found my voice.

"We met at the gym. Are you his sister? He said he lived with his younger sister." Anna's large eyes bounced back and forth between me and whatever Daniel was doing in the background.

"He said that?" That bastard. That rat-ass bastard. His sister? Really? I laughed at the thought. "I was actually his girlfriend up until five days ago."

I did my best to make it sound like I didn't give a fuck. When in fact I wanted to jump this girl and pull out all of her hair and maybe, just maybe scratch her eyeballs out too.

"No way," Anna said, her already large eyes bulging out of their sockets. "No way," she repeated. The poor girl looked like she was about to pass out or vomit. She could empty her guts if she so wished, but not on this porch. I took a lot of pride in the little apartment I'd gotten together with Daniel.

"Yup, he played us both." I kept my voice neutral as if none of this fazed me.

"You knew about me? Omg! I feel horrible. I seriously had no idea."

Just then, Daniel came out into the hall dragging his suitcase behind him. "What's going on?" A guilty look scurried across his face and was gone a second later. "Don't believe anything she's telling you, Anna. I will explain everything later." He then turned to me and said, "I left the keys on the table."

"What's with the suitcase?" Anna asked, pointing at the luggage standing at Daniel's feet. Her voice sounded shrill, panicked.

"I need a place to crash, just for a few days," he said.

For a minute Anna looked uncertain. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Come on, Anna. Don't be like that," Daniel said, reaching out to touch Anna on her shoulders. She shrugged him off and shook her head vehemently.

I smirked and quietly closed the door, locking it in the process. I leaned my head against the smooth wood and sighed. Daniel and Anna were still discussing outside, their voices coming in and out like a radio station going bad. He was begging her to give him a chance and telling her that she didn't know the real Daniel. "I will not mess this up, Anna. I love you. Our relationship was over long before I met you, believe me."

But I knew the real Daniel. The one who was too lazy to take initiative about anything in his life. The one who could watch TV for hours on end. A cheating bastard. But he was also the same man who had helped me through my mom's alcohol problem and verbal abuse. He was gentle and kind, even in the way he made love. He was boring. Predictable. At the same time, a total romantic.

"But you lied to me, said she was your sister. I can't trust you," Anna said, her voice fading as they walked further away from the door.

I waited for them to disappear before going back outside to retrieve the spare key I had hidden in a fake rock in the case that one of us had lost the key to the apartment. I had to find a new hiding spot for it.

Once back inside a feeling of weariness came over me and I choked up trying to hold back tears. My legs gave up on me and the next thing I knew I was sitting on the floor sobbing like a spoiled toddler whose parents refused to buy her chocolate at Walmart.

I didn't want to cry for him. It was stupid, but the tears wouldn't stop.

I needed a drink. Something strong, but of course we didn't have any at the apartment. My mom was an alcoholic so I avoided drinking at any cost. But not tonight.

Getting up, I grabbed the car keys hanging next to the door in the small entry space. Three minutes later, dressed in a dark grey hoody and jeans, I fired up the engine of my most prized possession; my yellow Volkswagen Beetle.

While cruising into traffic, I thought of calling my best friend, Eva, but decided against it. I'd rather drown my sorrows on my own. I was not interested in hearing Eva's version of "I knew there was something sleazy about Daniel all along." Besides, we were having brunch tomorrow, so I would hear all about it then.

Good music and some wine. That's all I was interested in right now. I turned on the radio and the low, sultry voice of Toni Braxton singing 'unbreak my heart' came wafting out the speakers.

"No, no, I don't need this shit right now," I muttered.

I flipped the station and the music there wasn't any better. Why was everyone so damn heartbroken? Finally, I settled on a station playing Meghan Trainors 'I'm All About That Bass'. Now, that was more like it.

It started to rain and a fine sheet of water eventually coated the streets of downtown New Orleans. I loved this city. The vibes were beyond magical, almost surreal.

The laid back atmosphere brought out the creative side of me, and the strove of other youngsters like myself, all chasing the same dream, made it possible for me to believe in my art. Currently I was working on a series of paintings called 'blood red tears' for my next exhibition. At least I still had that to be excited about.

After driving around aimlessly for fifteen minutes I decided to settle for a bar where I was certain I would not come across any acquaintances or fellow painters.

Even though it was a Tuesday night, the streets were crawling with rowdy teenagers, tourists, desperate men, and the occasional stripper. I even spotted a few drug dealers here and there. Not that I knew anything about drugs, but Daniel used to smoke an occasional blunt now and again.

Patrick's Bar Vin was a quiet bar located just a few steps away from the corner of Bourbon Street. I entered the courtyard and made a beeline straight to the bar.

I was normally a white wine kind of girl, but instead I ordered an entire bottle of a random red wine off the very diverse menu. Red wine seemed more fitting for this occasion. The bloody metallic taste always reminded me of heartbreak.

Lifting the glass to my lips, I took my first sip. Mm mm, this was some good shit. The kind my mother used to get drunk on.

I looked around the cozy bar, taking in the charming, brown interior, the group of couches off to my left, and the lonely man sitting at a table for two next to a pair of giant windows. Something about this bar screamed class. The decor was very grown-up, dark and sexy.

How ironic, up until tonight I'd never really thought of myself as an adult. I was twenty-six, but in a lot of ways I still felt like a child.

I'd never really truly been on my own. I'd stayed at home through college and studied fine arts at Columbia University. Rent in New York was just ridiculous, and living at home with my mother had been hell, but I suffered through it.

When I was twenty-two I met Daniel at a cancer fundraiser. I'd gone there to support Addison, whose mom was then fighting breast cancer at the time. Daniel was there because his grandpa had prostate cancer. And ever since, Drake and I had been inseparable.

Fuck, don't think of him. No more Daniel from now on.