For the barest moment after waking, Cole lay in bed unable to process anything but sensation. Restfulness. Satiation. Peace. Comfortable. Soft body against him felt good. Then rational thought jumped into full action. His chest felt like it locked as he realized what he was doing, had done. He was still there. He had thought and felt and said…oh God, all of it, no, he hadn't, oh God, he had. Hell, he was so entangled with Janice, it wasn't just her being clingy, it was him wrapping around her body.
He carefully unwrapped himself from her, getting out of bed quickly as he cursed himself over and over. Janice muttered a bit as she stretched out in bed, one hand reaching out to where he had just been. The urge to get back into bed with her was overwhelming. He grit his teeth and grabbed his pants and shoes from where they had been discarded earlier.
Liar! A voice full of righteous fury screamed at him in his head. Betrayer! Liar! You swore, you lying bastard! You swore! Self-disgust made his stomach clinch and for a moment Cole thought he was going to throw up. It was just once, he thought weakly. Once is more than enough that voice, the voice of his conscience, raged at him. You lied. You made a promise…you swore to HER, and you betrayed it.
Oh God, it was right. He had promised…and now…and now he had to get out of there quickly. He moved fast to the living room, the mental rant becoming stronger and stronger. He had known what he was doing, and he did it anyways. Liar! The scream was getting more insistent, building in intensity, echoing in every chamber of his mind.
Cole grabbed the edge of the couch, doubling over as he bit back a scream. He was gasping hard, trying to not shout back that he hadn't meant to. It didn't matter. He had done it, and there was no going back. He had made a promise, the promise that had kept him alive, and he broke it. Plain and simple. He had never in his life felt so loathsome as he did at that moment.
He glanced up the hallways as he got a little more control over himself. He wanted to hate her for doing this to him, making him forget for even a moment. It wasn't her fault though. She had simply been…incredible, and he didn't want to turn that away. She didn't know. He did, and that was what counted in the end. He had failed the one person who had never once thought he would, and in doing so, failed himself.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "Oh God, I am so sorry."
There was no reply. The screaming of his conscience had even stopped as if it too was too disgusted to even want to castigate him further. It deserved to be. He had down some horrific things in his life, but this…this was the worst of them all. Cole threw on his pants and grabbed his shirt from where it was laying beside the couch, sliding the undershirt on, not even bothering to button his shirt. His jacket was still on the hanger in the kitchen. Amazingly, it looked fine despite the fact they forgot to sponge the cleaning agent off twenty minutes after applying. He shoved his arms into it, forcing his feet into his shoes.
Cole paused once as he opened the door, looking back to where Janice was still sleeping peacefully. The memory of being with her, how incredibly intimate the whole encounter had been flooded his mind. She had let him see so much, things she might not even know herself, and she didn't care. And he was going to just walk out on her. Maybe you should just go back to her, a tiny voice whispered. What does it matter now? You liked it. You know you did. You like her.
He shook his head, cutting off those thoughts. It was too tempting. But what would she want with him anyways? If she knew…no, she would never know, and it didn't matter anyways. He was the screw-up, the one that had brought it all on himself. He knew better, but he had pushed and pushed, and here he was. God, he wanted to hit something, break something, anything to get out this fury, but the only thing he could destroy to really punish the cause was himself.
He whipped around quickly and moved fast for the elevator.
******
Janice woke up feeling absolutely wonderful. Granted, it had been a while since she'd had sex, but this was so much more than physical satiation. She rolled over; smiling as she thought that if the night before had been sweet, the coming day would be better still. Her smile faded as she realized she was alone in her bed. She blinked, not wanting to believe it. She listened for a moment, but all she could hear was outside noises from the streets below and the other apartments around her. Her hand traced along the sheets where Cole had been just a few hours before. They were cool as if his body heat had never warmed them at all.
She sat up, confusion filling her mind, echoing in her expression. "Cole?" she called out, hoping that she was wrong, that he had just gone into the kitchen to get something to drink or something like that. Maybe he had just been hungry. He had certainly expended a lot of energy, and he did tend to eat a lot, and he had to be in the bathroom or kitchen because there was just no way that he was gone.
Silence answered her call. She slipped out of bed, grabbing her robe from the back of the door, and moved out into her apartment. The silence said everything for her. Maybe he had gotten paged, and had been needed at work. The pad of paper by her phone was empty. No note on the fridge or the table or the door. Not a green zinnia to be found, she thought bitterly. This was not happening. Last night wasn't just a fling. She'd had a couple of those before. No fling could match the intensity of last night, not the sex, but how incredibly close they had been right then. For the briefest second, she would have sworn she could read his mind as well. That was not a fling. Oh God, please don't let have been a fling.
We made love and then he left, she thought as she moved into the living room, trying to force her mind to accept the course of events. He didn't say anything, just got up and left. We made love. He left. No note. No "I'll call you later". Just…nothing. No, she thought, fury rising up in her. We didn't make love; he fucked me then walked out. That…that…
"Bastard!" she screamed, grabbing the nearest thing to her hand, a glass still half-filled with grape juice, and hurled it into the door. Old juice saturated her door and carpet as the shards of glass flew in all directions. A single sob escaped her as she slid to her knees, the tears already sliding down her cheeks.
