Okay…this next update is part of where this story earns its explicit rating! Hope you enjoy and comments/Kudos are always appreciated :)
The rain is pounding on the windshield of the cab thatI was lucky enough to wave down outside of CJ's apartment. I rarely make small talk with my drivers, because usually I'm working and too focused on trying to get in contact with someone or finish some notes but today, I wish the driver would say something to pull me out of my own head. He doesn't and I'm sure it's because he is used to the hustle and bustle of Washington. Today, I wish he was a talker because when I am alone with my thoughts right now, I usually cry or go down the road of trying to relive every moment with Josh. The good, the bad and the ugly. I'm incredibly aware of how much I miss him. I wasn't thinking when I tossed clothes into a bag to leave our apartment last week. I didn't go to Harvard, but he did. I feel like wearing your boyfriend's things is just a right of passage and anything that smells or feels like him always makes me feel just a little safer. At some point, they just become our things, right?
The cab stops right outside of the apartment and I feel an instant pounding in my head as I hand the driver money and get outside. CJ is coming in a little while to help me pack some more things and I will stay at her place for a while. She and Danny are primarily in LA so I'll have the place to myself the majority of the time. I'm sure at some point I will get my own place, but for the moment this will work. I run up the steps of the apartment to avoid getting wet, despite the fact that I have no makeup on and my hair is laying flat. I'm returning to work tomorrow and I need to get things to try and find a bit of normalcy. I told myself I could sulk and be sad for the week, but when work returned, I would snap out of it. I am going to throw myself into my career, because it's what I have and it is pretty great. Except, Josh will be in the other wing. I can avoid him as much as possible.
Speaking of Josh, according to Danny and CJ he's not even staying in the apartment. Maybe by packing a lot of my clothes, he'll feel less surrounded by my things and come back to his home. His. Not mine. When I get to the apartment door, I feel another wave of nausea and dread. It feels like I've just been traveling with Helen for a week and that I should be relieved to be walking through the door. Stepping inside, it's dark, but there is enough light when I walk into the living area from the gray skies outside of the door. Rain be damned.
"Hello?" Damn. I hear Josh from the other room and my plan to be in and out without seeing him is quickly crumbling. As he steps out of the bedroom, I can see he hasn't shaken. Is it bad that I have a little bit of relief that just maybe he feels like shit too? "Hi."
"Hi." I breathe, tightening my hand on my L.L Bean tote bag. If I squeezed it any tighter, I think I would permanently bend the straps. "I was just going to come get some of my things so I can work this week. CJ is going to be here soon. She thought maybe you would be out. Not here. I can leave…"
"No…I'll leave in a few." He puts his hand up, looking down to the remote he's holding in his hand. If I know Josh, he was probably getting some things or hanging out and ready to turn on some game or other sporting event to pass some time. He sits the remote on a nearby table and leans against the wall before sliding his hands in his pockets. "Donna, I wanted to be here."
"You did?" I don't know what to say, I feel small right now.
"Yeah, I did." He doesn't look at me, but I have already seen his face. He looks terrible and there are moments where I hoped he did. Right now, is not one of them, because it makes me feel weak. I am not a weak woman and I don't like feeling like I want to crumble to him. Except, I do want to crumble to him. I'm not taking this well and I am very aware of how I've never been this upset over anything in my life. Why does he have to look this terrible? Why do I want to wrap my arms around him and cry? I am pulled from my thoughts as he starts to speak again. "I just thought maybe if we could talk without fighting then we could try and get some closure or decide if this is what we really want."
"What do we really want?" I narrow my eyes as I immediately feel them water. He's not being mean or yelling. Yet. Except, I feel like he's trying to find whatever the next logical step is. "You broke up with me."
"We broke up with each other." He counters.
"No." I shake my head and immediately recall that I didn't object and I agreed when I felt like I was so angry that he said it. "You suggested it and I was angry and so of course I said we should. I was hurting, Josh and you decided that you didn't want to be with me anymore."
"I did want to be with you, but we were fighting." Josh responds. "What was I supposed to feel?"
"It was one fight, Josh!" I raise my voice, choking slightly as he shakes his head like I'm some republican counterpart. "My God. You told me my job was the preschool version of yours!"
"I shouldn't have said that. That was wrong." He admits, his eyes filled with sadness. "We both said a lot of things."
"Yeah." I breathe, sitting down on the arm of his couch. I wonder how much of what I said cut him too deep. "We did and when I said…"
"Donna, we can't do this right now.." Josh hesitates, but steps forward. He's still several steps away from me, but the air between us feels thick and uncertain. "I don't know if we can come back from this."
"Maybe we can't." I surprised myself with that statement. I would give anything for us to fix this. "I don't know."
"We've never fought like that before." He signs, running a hand over his face. "We don't fight. We bicker, but we've never ever fought like that."
"I know." I breathe, my eyes filled with tears as he puts his hand on his waist. I'm on the verge of crying and he knows it. At least I think he does. I think it's why he says we can't do this right now. Maybe he can't take it and maybe I want him to have to take it. I don't put all the blame on him, but I can't help feeling like it happened because of him. Maybe it's the anger right now, but it felt like it was out of nowhere. That somehow we ended up here on a whim. He steps closer and for the first time I can see his eyes turning red. I only know for sure when he's right in front of me and he wipes his knuckle at his eyes. "Josh…"
"I'm so sorry." He speaks and I hear a light choke in his voice. It's enough to break me and now I'm crying. "I don't...if I could do it differently I would. I don't know if we're making the right choice, Donna. Maybe we're wrong, but for right now I think we need some time apart. I need time to figure out why I came home guns blazing and you need time to figure out…we just might need time or maybe we need to be done. I don't know which, but we need to take the time to sort it out."
"Yeah." I swallow the lump in my throat, wiping my tears with my fingers and as soon as I do, his hands are on each side of my face with his fingers in my hair. Something about it makes a sob escape from my lips and he presses a soft kiss to my forehead. My hand moved to his arm as he rains the kisses across my face.
"I love you so much." He sniffs, before pressing another kiss in the center of her head, he wraps his arms around her and I think I might actually start dying in his arms. "I will never in my life love someone as much as I love you. I love you."
"I love you too." I cry, and his arms fall to my are a million things I want to say and I want to ask him to just try to work this out with me, but I can't speak much else. I feel paralyzed, but a moment later, all I do is press my lips into his and for a second, he pulls away. We just look at each other, both of us paralyzed by what is happening. Then I act. I reach for the hem of his Harvard sweatshirt and pull it over my head, tossing it onto the takes a deep breath and then pulls the sweater he's wearing over his head, before his hand immediately goes to his belt. I know what we're about to do is dangerous. It's taboo in the world of breakups. I don't care. He pushes his pants off, before pulling me off the couch and moving his hands to my leggings. He slides his hand to my ass before slipping his hand in and squeezing my butt. I don't giggle like I normally do, I just reach out and touch his length and I'm convinced I've never noticed how perfect it is. He shivers and presses his lips into mine. "I love you."
"Donna…" He groans, before pushing my leggings down and I break the kiss for a moment, just to finish taking them off. Suddenly I'm glad I didn't wear a bra or underwear. If I'm going to have sex with him one last time, the only details I care about are the ones that I need to memorize. We're kissing and he dips his tongue into my mouth. I can hear CJ and Helen in my head telling me to stop, but I just tell that voice to shut up. I need him more right now than I need air. Fuck breathing. He is my air.
"Shit. Lay down." He demands, pushing me onto the couch and climbing over me. The way he says it, there is a needy aggression that makes me feel like he isn't sure he wants to give this up and frankly neither am I. Slamming his lips into mine again, his other hand roams over my body, his fingers grazing my nipple before he lowers his mouth onto it.
"Josh." I gasp quietly as he lightly bites down, and looks up at me. I swallow my tears, just trying to memorize his face when he's looking at me but as soon as our eyes meet, he just looks away, before moving his hand to my center. It's how I know this isn't making love. We're not just having a surprise quickie or passionate and raw sex. It's different. This is something he needs out of his system and maybe I do too. His hand goes to my center and runs his finger along my folds, teasing me a bit. Dipping it in and out, finding my clit and lightly rubbing. Just enough to get me a little wetter for him. Maybe it feels more dirty than rewarding.
"Shh…" He warns, working in circular motions until my back arches. Just enough to know that I'm somewhat ready. He moves his lips back to mind as he pulls himself to his arms and positions himself over me. I feel his hardened length against my stomach and I feel the goosebumps form. I want to trap him here with me and take what he's willing to give. Except now, the thought is leaving my head because he's slipping himself into me and my body is bracing. Every bit of my center is stretching to fit him and I'm reminded that we had sex the night before he left for Europe. Somehow, my body feels like it's been even longer only because it wasn't fully ready to accept him now. As he hits my back wall, I let out a loud moan both in a little pain and pleasure. "Like that?"
"Fuck yes."I whine as he begins to pump himself into me and my hands move to his ass, pushing him as deep as he can possibly go. I want all of him. I want to see how much pleasure he's feeling as he fucks me, because I need him to realize how much he loves it. In the midst of my sadness, I find myself moaning with each movement into my body as I realize he has no intention of working harder to make me cum. Our sex is purely selfish for the both of us. I move my hand down between us as my tongue dives into his mouth and he groans so loud I can feel the vibrations in my chest. I work feverishly to massage my clit as he begins to push harder, slamming his dick into me. "Josh…"
"Baby…" He pants as I feel my walls tightening around him. The friction isn't ideal, but the sounds he's making are worth it. I gasp against his lips as I feel myself begin to shake, not quite there yet. His movements get harder and faster before he screams out and spills himself into me. As the warmth begins to fill me up, I pull my hand away from my center, moaning as his pace slows and I begin to shake. Our kisses are hard as my tongue battles with his, little cries escaping into his mouth as our orgasms wash over us. A second later his head falls into my neck. "I…"
"Josh." I breathe, closing my eyes as I shiver beneath him. When he slips out of me, I let out a little cry but quickly recover. I feel empty as he pulls himself off of me and runs a hand through his hair. I'm not used to the instant shift in temperature. The coldness that starts to fill the room is starting to feel like ice.
"I need…I'm sorry." He breathes, quickly jumping up from the couch. I feel my heart sink into my stomach as he reaches for his clothes and puts his boxes on quickly.
"Josh…what if we try to talk about this?." I offer, wanting for him to just come and sit by me. I have no idea if we can fix this, but I just want him near me. I soak up every bit of him in hopes he'll see how broken I am and maybe it will make us both ready to fight. I want him to fight for me and refuse to give up so easily. I want to know why this happened. "Maybe there is a better way to…"
"Donna, you're right. There probably are better ways to handle this." He responds, pulling his jeans on. He won't look at me now and I'm not sure if that means I should feel ashamed of what we just did. "But what we need right now is space and what we just did can't happen. Not while we try to get a handle on what's going on. It can't."
"I…okay…" I sit up, stunned as I watch him work quickly to finish dressing. I wish I understood why we fought that day, because then I would know where his head was. I don't think it's cold feet about the wedding, but I'm starting to feel like it's a realization he doesn't want to marry me. That he went to Europe and his time away made him realize he was happier without me. That he feels like he's doing something heroic by ending it. And now I am the pathetic one, because he takes one look at me, grabs his keys and phone before leaving the apartment. Leaving me alone in the apartment where we were once much happier.
I look down at my body and decide it's time to go to the restroom, but my head is spinning. I want him so bad to come back. I feel like I am grasping at straws, hoping that I can figure out what changed and solve the puzzle so we can just resume our lives. I want to have the kind of sex where I feel like I'm on top of the world, not the kind that just feels like we needed to get the last bit remaining in our system. Not the kind that is robotic and meaningless. Not the kind that leaves me feeling utterly broken.
As I use the restroom and change into a tank top and leggings, I notice in the mirror just what this week has done to my body so far. I've barely eaten, my eyes are puffy and i have no glow for someone that was just fucked even pathetically. I'm pale even by my normal standards and I'm exhausted. I run my hand over where Josh's head was nestled in my neck and I find myself fighting the urge to break down again. Yes, we fought. Yes, we said things, but normal people say things and fight for each other and they figure it out.
There is something about seeing my now crying face in the bathroom that is in the apartment that I shared with the man I loved. No, I love. It's been a week and I told myself we were done crying. That I was going to be better than that. I wasn't going to be a pathetic woman who waited on a man. No matter how well that man was made for me. I know realistically, I can't just pick and choose when the emotions are felt. Given how much I love Josh, this hurts. But one thing is for sure, I am returning to work tomorrow and I am going to do my job and I'm going to do it well. I will restart and live my life in the best way I can until he is ready to work through this. I'm going to let Josh do what he needs to do to sort this out and then when he's ready he can come to me and we'll work on it. In the meantime, I'm going to be me and I'm going to be me so well, that if he loves me, he'll fight. If he doesn't, then I'll know the truth. I'm going to be Donna Fucking Moss.