Daddy, I want more

When David got on the sofa, he wasn't alone himself. Both Daniel and Fred sat on either side of him, hands on controllers, eyes glued to the screen. My arms were at my sides, and I balled my hands into fists. The devil knows why he didn't bother to inform me that he had company.

For an instant, Daniel looked in my way and smiled pleasantly. Greetings, Jessica!

David was too engrossed in the game to take his eyes off of it. How are things?

My throat closed up in anger, but I managed to keep my words out. "Let's have a chat."

"Yeah. Please wait while I complete this stage, and I'll be right with you thereafter. It was rife with sexual innuendo meant for his pals' amusement, and they laughed it off.

The words just didn't come out of my lips. After all these time, who was he even? When I was ready to lose it, all three of them started cursing at the TV.

Fred moaned, "Fucking stuff," and looked at his pals with annoyance in his eyes.

David got up and tossed his gamepad onto the sofa arm. Eventually, I'll be back.

"Just a few, eh?" It was then that Daniel's attention shifted to me. Jessica, poor you.

This failed to delight David. "Silence, man."

Most likely, he mistook Daniel for the intended target of my chilly look. Silently, I followed him into his bedroom. I had just closed his bedroom door when he reached for me, and I quickly turned to go.

To which the respondent must ask, "What are you doing?" When it hit me, I let out a piercing scream.

David's face conveyed complete bewilderment. Excuse me. They are participating in the activity. What we do in here is none of their business.

Was he under the impression that I was dismissing him because I didn't want his pals to overhear us? "Are you completely crazy? Separation was mutual.

He had a frowning expression. You were really serious about it, right?

"Yes." Definitely, you can say that.

Once my eyes left his, they traveled over his cluttered bedroom, and I was confronted with yet another bitter reminder of what I had ended. Our poster from the sold-out Black Keys concert at the Ryman Theatre last year was attached to the wall. On his bookcase was a cup made from a mason jar. These were the takeaway items at our senior prom that were provided by our school. A picture of our group during the homecoming game was taped to the bathroom mirror.

When David blinked, his bewilderment was gone. Irritation replaced it. Because I didn't drop everything for you, you want to stop things with me?

It was my turn to be perplexed at this point. "What?"

You wanted to visit, so I agreed it was OK. Before you even got here with your SMS, Fred and Daniel had arrived. But what was I expected to say? Where are you going, since Jessica has shown an interest in spending time with me at last? No, you're not the center of the universe.

I was like, "Are you kidding me?" With a gasp, I expressed my shock. Because of the arrogance of his assertion, my anger was so intense that my sarcasm was as thick as syrup. Because the world obviously revolves around you, I know that it doesn't.

I saw how much he resembled his father when he rolled his eyes and placed his hands on his hips. Sadly, his notion of God was the pampered, self-centered antithesis of the Almighty. It was too hot in here, and I had to go out. I had to get out of there before my mind started making inappropriate parallels.

His lack of interest left me feeling demoralized. "Goodbye, David," I managed to croak out.

I slammed his door in his face and bolted across the living room, disregarding the two men who were playing on the sofa. David, however, came after me and turned me around by gripping my shoulder. He said, "This is foolish." Just chill out.

The TV went dark. They must have stopped playing so that one of the men could hear David and I split up for the second time. They wouldn't see any performance on my part, but my rage was not going away.

Don't touch me, I snarled.

His expression soured. What do you know? Get some peace and quiet first, and then give me a call.

It was David's choice to waste his time waiting for a call that would never come. Even though I was hurt by what he said, I kept my face solid. I was resolved to break up with him, but I anticipated a fight. It was already too late. It was clear that he wouldn't be advocating on our behalf. Turning on his heel, he walked over to the sofa and reached for the controller.

That's the way he treated me after all we went through together.

As I walked up the steps, I brushed away the tears of rage. He didn't treat me with any kind of consideration, so why should I give a damn about him? I decided not to give him any more of my attention.

Dr. Johnson was doing the dishes in the kitchen sink when he heard me coming up the basement stairs and looked up. His irises sprang out. He turned off the faucet and swiftly wiped his hands on a dishtowel before advancing toward me. "Are you all right?"

No, I'm good. As a result, my tone was abrupt. Not only did I feel the want to flee my current location, but I also felt an equal desire to remain there. In many ways, I was not prepared for him to go.

Leaning back against the kitchen island, he flung the dishtowel over his shoulder and crossed his arms, maybe to prevent himself from reaching out to me. His gaze was brimming with understanding. Quite quickly, you say.

"Yup." I tried to make myself move, but my feet just wouldn't cooperate. It's been three years, so what's the big deal? The tears came to my eyes and the voice to my lips. He's alright; he's just downstairs playing video games, you know?