It was very dark in Lein’s bedroom. The only light filtering in was the natural light of the moon. It was by that light how they undressed each other. Once they were unclothed, Lein kissed her hard and passionately, eagerly anticipating the feel of her skin beneath his hands. When he broke the kiss, he could only stand and helplessly stare into her eyes by the moonlight. It was on the very tip of his tongue to tell her he loved her, God only knew it was true. He bit it back before it could blurt out of his mouth. He didn’t know if she was ready to hear such a thing from him. Instead of speaking with his voice, he kissed her again and spoke with his body.
Blaine sat at the kitchen table when Perion dragged herself into the apartment. He sat and quietly drank a glass of iced tea, although he hated the stuff. He would’ve gone for something harder, like some Jack, but he didn’t have any right at that moment. It was a good thing he didn’t have any booze, because he wanted to be sober for their upcoming conversation [fight, kids, let’s get real]. Besides, he needed something to do with his hands, and drinking a glass of the gross shit was the only thing he could do with them. He suspected they were about to have a little talk concerning why Perion had failed to come home on time.
Perion sat down at the table and Blaine noticed that she was wearing no make up. For some odd reason, her lack of make up angered him more than anything about her ever had. The only time she ever went without make up was during bedtime or after he had fucked her. But it was usually him fucking her, not Lein. He finished the shitty tasting drink and threw the glass in the sink from the table. It hit the bottom of the sink and shattered. Perion didn’t move a muscle. It was as if her senses were dulled. Blaine felt like asking if she had, perhaps, snorted heroin off Lein’s cock and was out of it as a result.
“We should end this right now, Blaine,” she said quietly.
“Are you fucking him, Peri?”
She sighed, but didn’t quite look at him. “I want out,” she said flatly, not answering his question at all.
He grabbed her hands and squeezed them hard. She did look up then, grimacing, but there was no way she would cry out. ”Are you fucking him,” he spat out, stressing each word by squeezing her hands tighter and tighter. The bones in her fingers were being ground together by the relentless pressure, but she would die before admitting he had hurt her.
“Yes, Blaine, I am. Now let me go or I’m going to kick you where it counts,” she said angrily.
Blaine released her hands at once, as if they were scorpions set to sting. What she’d finally admitted startled him. Of course, he had known all along. However, hearing her actually saying the words was a hard driving blow that began at his stomach, and sent spiraling pain down to his balls that stayed there and ached.
“I want out, Blaine. I want out now. I never should have married you in the first place.”
“You want to leave me for him, huh? What if I told you he doesn’t love you? And I know he doesn’t, because I know his type. If he loved you, Perion, he would have told you a long time ago. Has he done that yet?”
Perion sighed. “No,” she whispered, “but I don’t want to leave you just to run to him. I want to do it for me, and for you, even if you don’t believe that right now.”
“Bullshit, Perion. I know you want to leave me for him, and for no other reason. We never had these kinds of problems until you met him, you have to admit that. You want to leave because you think your idol is gonna be the Prince fucking Charming you always dreamed or thought he would be. Let me tell you, a dude will say or do anything to get into a chick’s pants. When that mystery is over, they become real shits.”
Ironically enough, a part of Blaine’s subconscious poked him with a sharp finger. Those slow mental jabs said: isn’t that kind of what you did, my friend? He let the thoughts leave him.
“I’m telling you he doesn’t want you like that, and I’ll bet you’ve had the same doubts, haven’t you?”
She had, of course. But she didn’t want to say so, didn’t want to fuel the fire any more than it was already fueled. “Blaine...”
He took her hands again, but this time, very gently. “Perion, he doesn’t love you. You know that, deep inside, you know. You know the only person who loves you is me. If he loved you, he would have told you a long time ago,” he repeated.
She took her hands out of his. “I’ve heard enough. I have to get out of here.” She stood up and left the room.
Blaine followed closely behind. “You know I’m right, that’s why you’re running away from me right now. You know it and you know I know it.”
She turned on him, suddenly furious, hating him more than ever. If she had a gun, she would have shot him dead in an instant and felt no guilt whatsoever. “You never make any fucking sense when you’re not getting what you want, do you know that? I don’t care if Lein loves me or not, I still want out of this goddamn marriage,” she screamed in rage.
“Perion,” he said patiently, “when you get together with him, do you sit and have deep, meaningful conversations,” he asked sarcastically, “or do you hit the sack as soon as you get near him? How long are you together before he starts taking off your clothes? Can you tell me these things?” He didn’t wait for her reply. “No, wait a second. I know without you telling me. You do nothing with him but fuck him, don’tcha?”
His soft toned voice and stunning honesty were too much for her. Everything he said made perfect sense, because she had the same thoughts constantly racing through her own mind. Lein had never said he loved her, they never got together without getting in bed, and they always pawed at each other before twenty words were exchanged between them.
However, her confused mind wouldn’t allow her to think back to how often they were together without ending up in bed. There were many times they had simply enjoyed just being together and hadn’t given sex a second thought. Her clouded memory banks couldn’t bring those instances to the surface of her conscious world. She could only see a heated, empty sex affair. She could not see ways that Lein had let her know he loved her without saying a word. Her brain was poisoned by fear, anger, and the words of a manipulative husband.
Perion turned away from him again and stalked into their bedroom. And again, he followed closely behind. He watched in utter amazement as she dug a huge suitcase out of the closet and began packing her clothing.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Without looking at him, she spat, “I’m packing. What does it look like?”
“You can’t be serious, not after what we’ve been talking about.”
“You’re damn right I’m serious, Blaine,” she said softly.
“You’re going to him?”
“I’m going to no one, Blaine, no one at all.” She banged shut one drawer and moved to another.
“What about the band, you have to-”
She interrupted him. “I don’t have to do any damn thing but eat, drink, piss, shit, and die.” She slammed the contents of the drawers she had emptied into the suitcase and snapped the lid closed. “See ya,” she said, hauling her suitcase out of the room.