Sugar Baby Âœ”ϸ twenty-second: falling

I gazed at the unfamiliar ceiling as Rosalie sidled closer to me, my mind wandering again and again to the previous night. The way he had touched me. The way he had kissed me. Had he almost confessed? I wasn’t sure. Did he have anything to confess at all?

“Mason,” she spoke. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, I’ll be going out for a few days next week. Just for relaxing”

I was quiet, waiting for her to continue. When she didn’t however, I prompted, “When will you return?”

She buried her face in my neck. “Tuesday I guess.”

We lay quietly for a while. “What date is that?”

“The seventeenth,” her muffled voice answered. 

My heart jolted. There was just another week left for my deadline. I suddenly felt stranded, like I was missing some major link that was otherwise glaring at me. 

She propped herself on her elbow and planted a kiss on the tip of my nose. I turned to face her.

“I’m gonna go take a shower,” she said, leaning in and nuzzling my neck as she whispered against my skin. “Would you like to join me?”

She stroked her finger down my face, her lips parted breathlessly.

My mind wandered. Grayson’s lips were the colour of pink meadowsweet. I remembered how they glistened when I kissed him.

I gazed quietly at her, biting my lip. “I’m really…tired, Rose.”

She sighed softly and kissed my cheek. “Alright. Rest.”

She gave me a swift smile and walked towards the bathroom. I sighed in relief and gazed up at the ceiling. I knew that Rosalie genuinely liked me. Part of me felt guilty. But it was my job. I didn’t have a choice. I turned to my side and fished out my phone. Without quite planning it, I decided to text Gray.

Xavier: I miss you so much.

He didn’t respond. I gazed at the screen nervously. Waiting.

Xavier: Can you call me

Nothing.

I sighed in frustration. Grayson’s actions made no sense to me. One moment he would pull me in, another he would ghost me like an ex. I was bewildered. I gazed at the screen and after swallowing my non-existent ego, texted him again. The more he remained unresponsive, the more I yearned for him.

Xavier: pls. imu.

Why was I so shameless with him? Like I had no ego whatsoever.

My heart skipped in my throat as my phone vibrated with an alert. I sat up straight, intently gazing at the screen. Waiting for his name.

Error. Message not delivered.

My chest felt suddenly frozen. I gazed at the letters. I checked the number, my network. Everything seemed to be working. I dropped a message to Scarlett to make sure it was delivered.

Xavier: hey scar, whatsup?
delivered ✓ 5:32 pm

The phone buzzed with an almost immediate response.

Scarlett: nm. existing. u?

My heart raced, my breathing shallow as I typed in a message to him again.

Xavier: Gray?
Error. Message not delivered.

Again. Again. Again.

I was hyperventilating. I was pulled momentarily out of my reverie as Rosalie’s numerology alarm rang. I leaned over the bedside and shut it off. Apparently, the lucky number for her was six today. She seemed to have snoozed it.

I tried calling him but there was no response. No ring. No automated message. Nothing.

I called Harold in a bout of desperation. It was possible that he was simply stuck up with his work, but I had to make sure. Was he simply avoiding me?

The phone rang thrice before Harold answered. “Hello?”

I spoke breathlessly into the phone, “Black?”

“Xavier, is everything alright?”

I took a shuddering breath before responding. “Where’s Gray? I’ve been trying to call him.”

“He’s right here. Someone came to see him. Wait-” I heard two voices. My heart spiralled into my stomach. I recognized Gray’s voice as one of them. Harold spoke again to me, “He’s here now, wait.”

I heard Harold’s low voice drift away from the phone as he talked to Grayson. I had to strain my ears to hear his words.  “It’s Mason.”

He called me by my alias, which made me realize that whoever was the third person in the room was unrelated to the case.

“Tell him I’m not here,” Grayson answered in a low voice.

My heart wrenched painfully at his blatant lie. Harold tried to pester him for a while before he snapped and I heard a loud bang. As if a door was shutting. My chest felt tight. The following silence seemed to ring in my head, echo in my hollow chest. 

Harold cursed under his breath before he spoke again on the phone, “He…he is a little busy. His wife is here.”

My heart fell into an infinite chasm.

My senses seized, deluged under an icy shock. I clutched my chest. Disbelieving.

“Where…what?”

“She came to visit him. Is it something about the case?”

His incoherent words floated to me from somewhere far away.

My throat felt tight. My entire world crashing. There was no way. No fucking way.

“His…wife?” I whispered as if saying it out loud would make it true when it simply couldn’t be. 

“She came to visit him for a few days I suppose. Do you need help or something?” Harold prompted. Still sounding like I was underwater and he was standing on the shore. 

Icy shards pierced my heart. A pain so tangible. So excruciating. My heart seemed to collapse upon itself with a force stronger than gravity. I staggered to my feet, my vision fading in and out of darkness.

“Xav-“

I hung up, leaning over the bedside table. It was so fucking hard to breathe. My lungs constricted. Like iron traps were crushing them. Puncturing them. Like I could feel the blood gushing out of them. Dark like the thoughts that swirled in my head. Tormenting me.

This was it. This was what he had wanted to tell me. That I was merely his boy toy. That he was married. That he had a different life. Maybe even children.

I couldn’t believe it. I had known him for five years. How come I had never known this about him? Harold had known. How blind had I been? I had never even asked him if he was married. For all the studying that I did on people, how come I had been so utterly idiotically clueless with him?

I knew he was from a small town and left ages ago. Living with his aunt in the city for a while before joining the academy and getting his own place. He had never mentioned her. He didn’t even wear a ring. It made no sense.

Was that why? I knew they had certain rules in the force. No things of sentiment were allowed. No keepsakes on the job. Maybe he had one back at his place. Of course, he did. But his wife? She didn’t live with him. Or had she simply been out when I had gone to his home?

I bit my lip. I was splitting open with the anguish. I leaned against the bed, barely holding myself upright. My chest heaving. He often visited his hometown. And the reason to me was now finally clear. I was falling. Crashing. Ending.

No. No. No. No.

I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t.

I took off from the bedroom, away from the mansion. The world around me disappeared in a vortex of colours as I made my way outside. I sat in my car, my entire body shaking. My hands trembling so bad that it took me four desperate tries to get the key into the ignition. I gripped the steering wheel as if it were life itself. My chest felt empty. My nerves numb.

‘Promise me you won’t hate me.’

I bit my lip. I wish I could hate him. But he hadn’t promised me anything. He had simply comforted me. Maybe it was me who had read too much into it. I made it back into my apartment in a state of stupor. I managed to make my way up the staircase and into my apartment. 

 I had bared myself to him.

How fucking stupid was I?

I was shaking. Trembling. Heaving. The agony tearing me apart. And despite the ache, I couldn’t deny the truth in my words.

There was not a single fucking thing that would make me hate him.

My heart wrenched in pain. I didn’t know how to stop loving him.

I staggered onto my bed, clutching the bedsheet, ragged breaths escaping my open mouth. I couldn’t rationalize anything.

How could he? Him, with whom I had been naked in more ways than one. Him, whom I had given everything. Him, whom I had trusted more than my own self. Him, whom I had loved with my entire being. Every damaged inch of me had loved every perfect inch of him.

I wanted to scream. Rip my heart out. Just so I could stop feeling.

I lay shuddering on my bed. I felt like I was floating in a timeless warp. I turned around so I was lying flat on my back.

I gazed at the white ceiling as it turned dark, signalling that night had fallen outside.

My love for him was going to devastate me. I had meant nothing to him. The moments I had spent with him no different than the others. His words, empty.

I had got my hopes up like a fool. And now, I was going to pay the price for it.

I was yearning. Not for his touch. Not for his warmth. Not for his body. But for something far more dangerous.

Something that was going to break me, drown me till I ceased breathing. Strangle me till I ceased existing. Break me till I was damaged beyond repair.

I lay silently, the solitude of my apartment pressing more heavily on me than it ever had. I never allowed myself to dwell on things. Never allowed myself to feel. I convinced myself that I was shallow. That I only wanted sex. Money.

I placed two fingers on my lips, stroking it gently. I closed my eyes, recalling the feel of Grayson’s lips on it. Recalling the way it had felt. So right. So perfect. So surreal. I remembered the way his lips had travelled all along my body. Kissing. Sucking. Licking. His teeth grazing my skin tantalizingly. Worshipping my body till I was aflame.

I removed my tshirt, desperation clawing my insides. I had never wanted anyone like I wanted Grayson Shelby. And I knew I could never have him. I was a mere object in his world. To be used. Played with. Not to be loved or respected.

I unbuttoned my pants, lowering and discarding them till I was lying naked. I felt a longing so intense, I went overboard under the tides of yearning. I sighed deeply, the images of the moments with him returning to me. The way I had felt. The way he had ravaged me. The way he had left me craving. The first time I had ever made love.

It had been a dream. And I was awake now.

I placed my hand between my legs, stroking slowly. I couldn’t remember the last time I had touched myself, mostly because I never had to. My life had been rife with sexual partners. A never-ending slew of men and women who had craved my body. Worshipped it.

I didn’t increase my pace. Stroking slowly. Leisurely. Caressing. Loving. Like he had that day.

I shut my eyes, trying to picture Grayson. His strong arms around me. His warm body pulled flush against mine. His intoxicating lips. His taste in my mouth. The way his teeth had grazed my skin. The way his tongue had felt. Inside my mouth. Exploring every inch of my body. The way he had gripped me when he unravelled. The way he had called my name.

I increased my pace, gasping softly. My hunger, my need, my raw animal desire mounting in a crescendo of inexplicable pleasure. I imagined my hands replaced by his. His mouth. Soft. Warm. Wet. Eager.

I let myself go completely, stroking harder and faster by the second. My body squirming with the building pleasure. I imagined his silky, deep voice. Whispering my name. Saying sweet nothings to me. Telling me dirty things I yearned to hear. Imagining how his lips would move when they formed each word. Imagining him moving against me. His hot breath. The way it had felt when he came undone inside me. It had been too perfect. He was a luxury my broken heart couldn’t afford.

And for once, not feeling guilty or ashamed after sex. For once, wanting to be with the person I slept with. For once, not hating myself. For once, being warm. For once, being loved.

The beast of lust inside me reared, the knot in my stomach reaching its peak. I knew I couldn’t go on. I was desperate to be held. I needed to release. Needed to feel anything apart from the fiendish beast clawing my insides. Ripping me open.

‘You’re mine, Xavier.’

I was his. I had been. Every tainted inch of my skin. Every shred of my soul. Every piece of my heart. All of me was his. But he wasn’t mine. Never had been.

And I knew I was ruined.

Another moment and I would collapse.
Another minute and I would be consumed.
Another second and I would be aflame.

I came with a loud, breathless gasp. My body lurching forwards again and again as the torturous pleasure rattled my veins. Wiping my mind black for a blissful second. My breathing coming out in short, punctuated grunts. I was destroyed by the demented explosion of pleasure.

I raked a hand through my hair, my breathing laboured. The walls of pleasure burying me under the fiery debris. I lay still, opening my eyes to gaze at the ceiling again. I wondered what it would feel like if he uttered the words that I ached for him to say. How his perfect mouth would move when he uttered them. I yearned to touch his lips when he spoke my name. How the words would escape his tongue like a heavenly melody.

What it would be like to have anyone say it. Anyone not maddened by the aftermath of orgasm and uttering gibberish. Anyone who would speak those words and mean it.

‘I love you, Xavier.’

The mere thought seemed to split open my chest and I lay there, bleeding into my own pool of scarlet. A grotesque, invisible gash on my chest that threatened never to heal. 

Before I could gain my bearings a loud sob escaped my throat. Hot prickling shame ravaging my insides. Guilt. Regret. Maybe my agony was damnation. Something I deserved because of the life I had led. Sleeping with multiple people, never giving a second thought that they might belong to someone else. That I was breaking hearts because I was too selfish to care. Lying. Stealing. Manipulating. Cheating life itself.

My tears streamed down my face uncontrollably, my entire tortured body racking with sobs. I cried harder than I ever had. All the feelings I had ever shut breaking through the barrier and burying me under an avalanche. For the first time in my life, I didn’t want my body to be revered. I didn’t want to see eyes darken with desire. For the first time in my life, I was craving to feel loved.

The need consumed me in annihilating flames. Destroying me from inside till I was nothing but a pile of ashes.

I wanted to be held. Caressed. Cherished. Not just the parts of me that were for sexual gratification, but all my flaws. All my scars. I wanted assurance. Validation. I wanted Grayson to love me. I wanted him to be with me.

I turned to my side, curling into a foetal position as incessant sobs wrecked me. My chest felt empty like a chasm had opened up in it. And there was no one I could call. No one I could ask to reassure me. No one that I could ask to mend me. My home was empty. Just like it had always been. The only difference was that my own walls had also collapsed. The only difference was how gaping the chasm in my chest felt, now that I knew what it was like to be complete. 

I lay on my bed, shuddering and crying. Sniffing pathetically. I felt broken, shattering into pieces that couldn’t be put together. I was an absolute mess. I clutched the bedsheets, whispering words I craved to hear from his mouth.

“I love you, Xavier. I love you…Xavier.”

Again and again and again. Letting them fall on my ears. Letting them reach my benumbed heart.

I felt nothing except an aching void. Ever-expanding. My chest was hollow. The invincible void stretching till it would engulf me entirely.

I turned and stared at the ceiling, lying flat on my back. My lungs refusing to breathe. My brain refusing to think. My heart refusing to beat.

I screamed. Deliriously.

I didn’t care who heard me. I didn’t care who thought what. I let my scream rip my throat painfully. My back arching. Squirming. Agony my only virtue. I screamed like I was trying to physically hurt myself so the mental anguish would fade. It wouldn’t be enough. I could fall off a cliff and it still wouldn’t be enough. Never.

I screamed again. Again. Again. I couldn’t understand why the world wasn’t burning down in flames while I lay scorching within its fiery womb, engulfed by the monstrous blaze.

Burning in excruciating pain.

I pulled the bedsheet around me so I was completely enclosed by its warmth. As if compensating. I shuddered, sobbing, crying. Tears drenching the bedsheet.

Begging. Praying. Pleading for it to end.

A/N: I can safely say that this was the most agonizing chapter for me to write. Xavier is shrouded by uncertainty. Where will this anguish lead?