2 Incomplete Apology

PRESENT

Claudette Deveraux

An arm snakes around my waist as I walk to my room. I smell him before I see him. He's drenched in some pretentiously overpriced cologne that belies his choice of lifestyle. Sin.

He leans into me as if to create a false sense of intimacy when I look up at him. His face is etched with concern.

"Got a minute?"

No, I do not.

"I might be willing to spare one", I plaster a smile on my face.

He smirks back and continues to walk me towards my room. I honestly detest these people and their casual invasion of my living space. It is so much more polite to tell people it's time to leave their territory than asking them to fuck off from yours. Especially when you're striving to keep a warm front towards them so they're more inclined to help you in your inevitable moment of need.

I do not want to be associated with any of these people beyond compatible coexistence but this one just doesn't know when to quit.

We pass several of his brothers on our way and they all let their wandering eyes linger on where his hand grips my waist. I don't like that there's going to be a general assumption about us being involved or even friendly to some degree, but I let it go. When close to my room, I untangle myself from him and stand in front of the door making it clear he is not to enter. I give him my most charming smile to soften the rejection he's hopefully smart enough to decipher.

"What is it?"

"I wanted to check on you. And apologise."

He looks sincere but I know that there's also other motives behind this conversation. He wants to sleep with me that much is obvious, but I don't know if there's more. He's not ugly by any means. He's got dirty blonde hair, ocean blue eyes, a lean and muscular body that he no doubt works on religiously and an underlying aura of danger many women are drawn to. If I met him at a bar on a night out, I may have taken him to my car's backseat for something to laugh about the next morning with my girlfriends. But I'm not going to sleep with someone like him in my current predicament. He lives a few doors down from me and he's not worth pouring complications into an already messy situation.

I wait for him to continue but he doesn't. Just looks at me intently.

"What did you want to check on?", I ask.

"How you're doing. I've never seen you like that. I feel partly responsible."

Partly? Try entirely.

"We haven't known each other long enough for you to have seen me in any way but thanks for your concern", I wave him off even though it guts me not to hold him accountable for letting his messy situation spill into my night.

"Guess we haven't. Let's change that. I'll take you out. Anywhere you like.", he visibly becomes more cheerful and I have to wonder where that apology he was meant to give me went. If I didn't know before, I know now for a fact that this is not a man who has any concept of owning up to his mistakes. Tragic.

"The list is endless, but right now I'd like to take a hot bath and read a book," my polite tone belies my growing irritation towards this person's general existence. "I do appreciate the offer though. I'm just tired from a long day."

"It's a one-time offer, doll", he insists but his tone borders on mild irritation. He's smiling but he doesn't fool me. He was banking on his show of concern to warm me up towards him. And if I were a pathetic creature with limited prospects in life like his girlfriend, Dixie, I may have been swayed by the crumbs of recognition he gives me to serve his ulterior motives. Unfortunately for him, I have standards.

"I'm sure you can find someone else to extend it to. Goodnight", I'm turning away when he speaks up again.

"What did he do to you?"

"Pardon?" I turn back to face him and realise he's moved in so close that his face is just inches from my face. A familiar sense of claustrophobia tries to engulf me, but I fight it by digging my nails into my palm. A trick I learned some time ago to keep my brain focused on the pain on my hand to override the one in my mind.

"You're sexy, obviously smart with all those books you read, not clingy or dramatic like the chicks here. I like you but you're locked up tighter than a pastor's daughter. Why? Was it your ex? Did he hurt you?", his brows are furrowed, and he moves his face even closer. My nails dig in even deeper. I swallow to give myself a second to gather my thoughts.

This egotistic piece of shit. He's incapable of comprehending that a woman may simply be uninterested in his advances so he's looking for flaws in me to make sense of it. He's as one dimensionally boring as a black and white television.

I don't respond to his intrusive question. I don't know how to without displaying my outrage.

"I know the situation you're in." No, you fucking don't. "You lost everything for a mistake you didn't even make." Do you think I don't know that? "But you can start over here. Fresh. Make friends with the other girls. Come join us when we're partying. You'll see we're all like family here. And I can make this better for you." I'm losing my patience with his insolence and if I wasn't fisting my hands as tight as I am I would have slapped him.

"I'll pass."

I don't wait for his response. I stumble into my room and slam the door in his face.