Based on the song "9 Crimes" by Damien Rice.
Enjoy.
He groggily turned his head, his eyes still closed, and his body still weak. He breathed a heavy sigh before opening his eyes and checking his watch. It was 5am. He could see the sun rising far off in the East—he was supposed to be home ten hours ago.
He quickly jumped out of bed. Picking his scattered belongings of clothes up off the ground and trying without tripping and falling onto the cold hardwood floor to get his pants on. One foot at a time he hopped around the room, finding his shirt and throwing it over his shoulder. Stuffing his socks in his pockets and trying to button up his pants while slipping his shoes onto the wrong feet.
"Hmmm," she rolled over, feeling the cold empty gap next to her. She opened her eyes to catch him mid flurry, racing around the room roughly trying to pull himself together, "What are you doing?" she questioned.
He stopped, with his eyes wide open and looked at her. "I was supposed to be home ten hours ago, I have to go, the excuses are getting harder and harder to make believable."
"Don't go," she reached out for him and tugged on his arm.
He smiled down at her, "I wish I didn't have to." He sat down on the bed next to her, taking her head in his hands and leaning down to kiss her passionately.
"Mmmm," she mumbled mid kiss. He pulled away from her and with her eyes still closed she smiled in his direction, "Just imagine that all the time, guilt free." She opened her eyes to look at him.
His head fell when she said that, he switched his shoes to the right feet and tide them quickly and tightly, "I can't… leave her," he shook his head.
She fell lightly back onto the bed, the thin white sheet the only thing between him and the beauty of her naked body.
He stood up from the bed and turned to face her. He looked down at her, admiring her features and how much they looked like the ones waiting for him at home. He opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn't get a word out. Instead he just nodded in her direction and left the room without saying a word.
Walking down the hallway of her apartment he slipped his shirt on over his head, he shook it loose, and tried to flatten out the wrinkles, soon giving up, they were there to stay.
He made his way into the elevator and leaned his backside up against the rear wall. He rested his head back and let out a heavy sigh. He was a horrible person. Here he was with a woman he loved, stringing her along while there was another woman at home who loved him.
He made his way out onto the heavy street outside. Passing by alleyways he imagined himself as just part of the waste. Because that it what he was. He was not this kind of person. He did not cheat. He did not lie. He did not love. But it was happening.
He thought back to just moments ago when he was upstairs. He looked down at the woman in bed and compared and contrasted her to the woman at home. It was the wrong kind of place to be thinking of her, just as it was the wrong time for somebody new. Because it was a small crime and he had no excuse.
He made it home in what felt like no time. He quietly and slowly unlocked the door preparing for what was coming next. He closed the door behind him and turned to find her staring up at him from the couch.
She looked down at her wrist, checking the time to obviously make a point and then she looked up at him again. This time she stood up and walked towards him.
"Before you say anything—" he put his hand up in defense but was quickly cut-off.
"Really? Really Tom?" she shook her head at him, she was trying to restrain the tears burning behind her eyes, "Its 5:30 in the fucking MORNING!" she nearly jumped towards him, "What's your excuse this time? A flat tire? Wait that's right, you don't have a fucking car. Work overload? Oh wait… no… I called your work and you left 12 fucking hours ago. Had to stop and save the world? Oh wait, that's right, you're not a fucking superhero."
She stopped only to catch her breath but the tears starting streaming down her face and suddenly she couldn't contain them anymore.
He lurched forward and wrapped her up in his embrace. He held her as she cried into him. He was done making excuses. There was nothing left for him to say.
He let go and stepped back from her. He looked down at her just as she looked up at him and their eyes met.
"I know its wrong and I know it makes me a horrible person, but I don't feel guilty."
She took a step away from him, her eyes red and puffy, tears were once again resting on the rim.
He watched her and he wanted nothing but to scream and yell at her. He could feel the anger rising within him. He just wanted to shout at the top of his lungs 'Is that alright? Is that fucking okay with you? Its my heart, I gave it to you expecting you to do something with it, but you just took it and ran, so I gave it to someone else. Is that alright?' But he restrained. He looked at her angelic face and he couldn't bring himself to cause her anymore pain.
"I'm gonna go to bed…" he trailed off as he deposited his jacket on the back of the couch and walked down the lengthy dim hallway, not once turning to back to see if she was following.
He woke up in the morning to bareness. The right side of the bed was still unscathed, as was the couch. He couldn't find her anywhere.
There was a tap on the door and he was quick to answer, he swung the door open with full vigor expecting to see one woman, but instead saw the other.
"What are you doing here?" he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her into the apartment, promptly thrusting his head out the door and examining the hallway to make sure no one else saw, before retracting himself and closing the door behind him.
He curved to look at her and she stepped towards him, running her hands up his torso, she kissed him, while her hands found the top of his pajama pants. She tugged on the elastic, leading him down the corridor, he couldn't help but follow after her.
By the time they were done, all the sheets had found their way to the floor. She leaned into him, kissing his jaw line.
"Tommy," she whispered.
"Hmm," he was in a daze, staring at the ceiling. Thoughts crowded around in his head, this was the wrong place to be cheating on her, in her house, in her bed. But he couldn't help himself, because the woman in bed next to him was pulling him through, it was a small crime and he had no excuse, but he was done making excuses now. In the end they would all be hurt, but it was for the best.
"I'm leaving her…" he blurted out before he knew what he was saying.
"What?" she shot up, looking down at him.
"I'm leaving her, I can't do this anymore."
There was an extensive stillness between the two of them, neither of them spoke, he continued to gaze at the ceiling while she continued to stare down at him.
"Tommy?"
"Yeah," he broke his fix and skewed his head to look at her.
"You can't leave her…"
"Excuse me?" he shot up, now staring at her face to face.
"You can't, it will destroy her, it will destroy me and it will destroy us."
"But you always said…" he defended.
"I never thought you would actually do it."
"So you were just teasing me?"
She looked away from him for the first time.
"Does she know it's me? Did you tell her?"
"God no, of course not! But I love you and I am ready to give us a try," he took her hand in his own and gripped it tightly.
"Where is she? Where did she go?" She leaned over the edge of the bed and lifted the crisp white sheet from the floor and wrapped it around her body, shielding herself from his eyes.
"I have no idea. She wasn't here when I woke up this morning, she didn't tell me, she didn't leave a note and we weren't on best terms when I went to bed last night."
"I left early this morning, I was quiet and I went to your house…" there was a third voice from the doorway.
They both looked towards the door, "Sadie…" Tommy whispered and trailed off.
"Jude…" Sadie whispered from the doorway.
Is that alright?
I give my gun away when it's loaded
Is that alright?
If you don't shoot it, how am I supposed to hold it
Is that alright?
If I give my gun away when it's loaded
Is that alright
Is that alright with you?