Free Half to Death by Robin Alexander

movie played before my eyes, and I couldn’t pull away.
    I felt a breeze on my bare skin, the warmth of the sheets draped across my legs, the cool of the headboard against my back. A woman covered her breasts with her bra and reached for her shirt. “Why have I never seen your house?” I asked and heard Jade’s voice speaking the words.
    Blue eyes looked up at us. “You know it’s complicated. My ex likes to makes things difficult for me. She drops in unannounced. She’d go crazy if she found you there.”
    Jade knew it was a lie. She’d known for a while, but she hoped things would change. They were having an affair. And for a time, Jade assuaged her conscience by allowing herself to accept the lie. “Lauren, is there ever going to be a time when we do things like normal couples do? Have dinner at home, watch a movie?”
    Lauren smiled. “You’d rather do that instead of what we spent half the day doing?”
    Jade was weary, I could feel it. “I guess what I’m asking is, will we ever really be together? Where’s this relationship going?”
    “Don’t put pressure on me,” Lauren said pleadingly. “I’m dealing with a lot at work, and my ex is driving me crazy. I can’t make any long-term plans right now.” Jade watched as she gathered her things. “I’ll call you.” The sound of her heels clacked across the floor, then a door closed.
    Jade sighed deep and wearily. Lauren would call when she was ready for a tryst, but Jade wouldn’t answer.
    Jade shifted, and I blinked as the movie screen filled my eyes again. I felt used and angrier with myself than Lauren—Jade’s feelings clung to me like a damp coat. I couldn’t laugh anymore at the onscreen antics. Pivoting in my seat, I sat with my back nearly turned to her, avoiding contact. She took that opportunity to use the armrest, and no matter how much I squeezed into the other side of my chair, we came in contact.
    I was being kissed roughly. The woman on top of Jade was grinding into her so hard it felt like my spine was being crushed into the hardwood floor where they were lying. Jade broke the kiss, and we gasped. “Stop,” she said breathlessly.
    The woman, who had moved to her neck and was showering it with bites and kisses, rose up on her arms and looked deep into my eyes. “Why?”
    Jade didn’t say anything as she stared into the pools of brown, myriad thoughts swirled in her brain. My mind swam as my brain scrambled to make sense of them all. I heard a familiar male voice say somewhere in Jade’s mind, “Chloe and her friends are in stiff competition to see who will bed her first.” I heard and felt Jade wish that she’d never overheard that conversation. I felt her desire for companionship and the sad realization that these brief interludes were all she was ever going to get, all she was worthy of.
    “Let’s move to the bed, the floor is killing me.”
    Chloe stood and gave Jade a hand up. I could feel the self-loathing, the sadness that permeated Jade. Arousal would be slow in coming. She hoped that Chloe wouldn’t notice.
    Jade moved again and broke the connection, and something wet hit my arm. My hand rose slowly to my face. It was damp from my tears. I choked back a sob and clamped my eyes shut until I regained my composure. The images and the accompanying feelings were so much more vivid, more intense than anything I’d experienced in prior encounters. When I looked back up at the movie screen, it looked dull in comparison.
    I mustered the courage and looked at Jade. She was no longer laughing at the movie. Slumped down in her seat, she was staring down, not looking at the screen. A finger was pressed to her temple, and I could tell she was somewhere else, deep in thought. She’s dwelling on these memories right now, I thought. That’s why they were so intense. In her profile, I saw what I’d felt—sadness, deep unrelenting sadness.
    There we sat two peas in a pod. I was too scared to let go and love, and Jade felt too