Limbo Ch. 02

"Who else do I have? Is it you?"

"No. It's not me and it will never be me. I won't take you back, not after what you did. Every time I see you, all I can think of is you and Milos in that damn hotel room. Nothing will ever change that."

"I miss you so much, Ethan, it hurts."

He felt a craving for her love well up within him. Old feelings he had worked so hard to bury raised their heads in unison, all wanting nothing more than to hold her and kiss her and feel the warmth of her touch again.

... And then the image of that restaurant floated in his mind. It was almost a year ago, but every detail was rendered perfectly -- the rain, the drinks, the designer dress, the laughter and that fateful kiss, all of it rushed back to him like a suckerpunch back to reality. Quietly, he finished his coffee.

"Stop lying to yourself, Zoe. You miss the exotic vacations and sports cars. You don't miss me."

The rest of her coffee spilt onto the table as she did a poor job of stifling a sob. She was halfway to the door within the next second, trying to hold back her tears. Ethan caught a glimpse of her scampering past the glass front of the café, tears flowing down her face.

* *

"Please let me in."

Ethan left his half-empty bottle and looked through the eye-hole. Zoe stood in the corridor wearing a look of unholy dread. He opened the door and she stumbled inside.

"I'm sorry to come here, Ethan. I didn't know where else to go."

"What happened?"

"Milos got fired and he drank too much. He's angrier than I've ever seen him. He's throwing bottles, plates and anything else he can get his hands on. I ran and he followed me for a while before I took a bus. I can't go back to my place tonight. He'll kill me, I swear."

"How do you know where I live?"

"I got your card from the ER yesterday," she panted, clearly exhausted from running. "Can I please spend the night here? I'll go back in the morning when Milos is sober again."

"Yes, of course," he said before he had the time to think better. "I'll make some dinner."

"Let me," Zoe said.

She opened the refrigerator and took out a few ingredients of her choice. It was almost like a flashback to a past life. So many things had happened since she last cooked for him.

"Please, Zoe, for God's sake press charges against him. You're going to get hurt sooner or later if you don't."

"Press charges for what? Getting drunk and vandalising the place? It'll only make him more angry."

Zoe focussed all her energy on preparing the perfect chicken breast. For a sliver of time, trapped between swathes of reality, all the mattered was making Ethan dinner. She forgot about her pending bills, her abusive husband and her broken dreams.

She had been a fool and now it was too late to do anything about it.

They ate. Zoe was especially famished. Ethan enjoyed a home-cooked meal for the first time in months. No one spoke for the entirety of dinner.

"Ethan, I want to ask you for one thing and one thing only. I want you to make love to me tonight. I miss your kisses, your touch and the words you whispered. Please, let me be your wife for one night."

He looked at her, startled by her request. She wiped the tears from her eyes and said.

"I cheated on you with Milos. It's only fair you get the same when I'm married to him."

"Two wrongs don't make a right, Zoe. They never did."

Before he could turn away, she dropped her dress to the floor. His eyes were arrested by her body covered in nothing more than flimsy underwear. There were welts and lacerations in various stages of healing along her torso.

"What has he done to you?"

Ethan got up and walked to her slowly. Her underwear came off and joined the pile of clothing. Her sparkling eyes and smile were all gone, replaced by a look of hopeless disenchantment.

He held the small of her back and laid her down on his bed. His lips found her stomach and kissed along the taut skin. He kissed all her wounds, each of them tearing a gash into him. He kissed her puckered nipples and swirled his tongue over and around her breasts. Finally, he kissed her lips, the lips that had looked so ugly and deformed in the ER a few days ago.

"Please, Ethan I need it."

He took hold of Zoe's leg behind her knee and placed it over his shoulder. Finding the space he needed, he pressed the head of his cock against her entrance and pushed inside slowly. She groaned and writhed under him.

"It's been so long."

She said it and he thought it. He looked down at the sight of her luscious breasts on her sexy body. Every curve and bend of it was exactly as he remembered. He knew where to kiss, where to caress, where to touch and where to probe. He fucked her with long languid strokes, like the rhythm of the waves crashing against the beach.

A series of groans of increasing pitch heralded her climax. Ethan pulled back completely before slamming back into her at once. He grabbed her hips and pistoned in and out of her. His fingers found her nipples once more and tweaked them gently while his mouth locked onto hers and kissed her with a torrid passion they had once known.

The stars exploded in her head and a riot of colours spread in all directions. Zoe felt her vision dissolve in a psychedelic whirl before going dark. Waves of orgasm crashed over her body, sending her into sensory overload.

Slowly, she came back to her ex-husband's bed. His warm hands held her to his bare chest. She felt safe and protected in his arms, a feeling she had not known recently. It took every ounce of her self-control not to break down and cry on him. She drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

The morning sun filtered in through the windows onto her face. She stirred and tried to go back to her dreams. The body holding her also moved, sliding her onto the bed.

"It's morning, Zoe," Ethan said.

"I know. Let me sleep for a little longer and I'll get out of your hair, I promise."

"Stay for breakfast. It'd be nice to have a breakfast that didn't come from a food truck for once."

"As you wish," she murmured without opening her eyes.

A simple course of bacon, eggs and toast never seemed so appetising. They ate in their acquired silence. Finally, Ethan couldn't take it any more and he spat out.

"Please, Zoe, press charges against Milos. I forgive you for what you did. You don't have to keep suffering for it. Now please go and get rid of him from your life."

She put her knife and fork down and took a deep breath.

"I'm going to ask you this, Ethan. If I leave Milos, will you marry me again? Can you find it within yourself to take me back?"

He didn't say anything at first. Zoe eyed him for a few seconds before he spoke up.

"I'm sorry, Zoe, but I could never do that. I will love you forever, but I can't trust you again."

She reached across and grabbed his palm.

"I don't blame you, Ethan. What I did deserves the worst punishment possible. If that is being married to Milos Petric, so be it."

"But I said I forgive you..."

Once more, Zoe looked at him with a face full of wistful longing.

"I never said I forgive myself."

* *

"What? She came to your place last night?"

Sam did not look impressed, not even from over eight thousand miles away on FaceTime. Ethan rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and nodded.

"What happened?"

"She wanted a place to hide from her husband for a night. She made us dinner and we went to sleep."

He graciously left out the last part. Sam scanned his face for a few seconds before rolling over and lifting the phone in the air so he could look at her face from above.

"I have to go have lunch with some people from the local media now, but I'll get in touch later. You can count on it."

Ethan swiped his phone shut and spent the next hour browsing her Instagram feed. Sam had not only numerous pictures of the protests, but also of the dazzling Hong Kong skyline and marina. He stopped at a selfie of her face partly obscured by the sun rising over the coast. Her pale blonde hair billowed in the wind. Ignited by the sunlight, it formed a halo around her face. Her smile was a constant fixture in all the pictures.

He closed his phone and slid under the covers. He didn't know he would miss that smile so much.

* *

The next day, Ethan couldn't bring himself to concentrate on his work. Every new patient who came in felt like Zoe. He hadn't heard from her. He had no idea about her health and well-being.

Zoe was still deeply entwined to his heart. He had to know how she was doing.

He talked to Samantha on and off, grateful for the time she could spare between her own work. She gave him a patient ear and told him it was natural to worry about someone he loved. There were times when he spoke the entire duration of the call and she simply listened and nodded. It gave him more comfort than he cared to admit.

He went to all their old haunts -- the coffee shops, the rotisseries, the malls. He was there in all of them, but not there.

Finally, he walked past Washington Square Park, reliving their first date, if it could be called that. He stopped to admire a street artist creating a realistic chasm on the pavement. Many people had gathered to watch him work, some with their cameras out to take a picture.

"Hi, there."

Ethan turned around to see the effervescent young artist who had drawn a portrait of him and Samantha all those months back. She was dressed in a simple overall and beret.

"Your girlfriend's not with you this time?"

"No. She's in Hong Kong for work."

"That's unfortunate," she pouted. "How about a solo portrait then? I do a real mean solo."

"Why not?"

Clapping excitedly, she dragged him into the park and sat him down beside a fountain. She smoothed out his hair and turned his head so it was partly lit by the evening sun.

"There, now hold that pose."

Ethan tried as best he could. The girl went to work on the canvas, furiously attacking it with rapid brush strokes. She stepped back and committed some more of him to memory before taking a fresh dab from her palette and redoubling her efforts.

"Are the two of you serious, mister?"

"It's complicated."

She drew exquisite detail on Ethan's stubble and his eyes. Satisfied with her work, she stepped back to admire it.

"Have a look."

This time, the picture looked much happier. He looked more like his old self.

"How much do I owe you?" he asked, taking out his wallet. He took a picture of the painting and sent it to Sam.

When he finally reached home, he saw Zoe waiting outside his door. She was tired from standing against the wall.

"How long have you been waiting?"

"A few hours," she smiled back. "It's nothing. I just wanted to see you when you got back."

"Where's your husband?"

"Milos? He's in Syracuse trying to get some temp work at his friend's agency."

Ethan eyed her from head to toe. She had helpfully parted her coat to display she didn't wear much underneath. The yearning look on her face spoke volumes for her reason for coming.

"So you're going to cheat your way through this marriage as well?"

"At least this time it'll be with the one guy I'm crazy about."

He almost laughed at her proclamation. She wore the same despondent look as he had seen since she walked into the ER. The only time he had seen another expression framing her face was when they had sex.

Ethan cursed his pathological weakness for her. He was acutely unable to deny her that one ray of light in her murky life.

He opened the door and let her in. Within a few minute, her clothes had been discarded. She had a few fresh bruises on her torso. He kept his gaze riveted to hers, remembering the long nights spent just staring into her hazel irises.

Ethan kissed her briefly, then spun her around and bent her over the sofa. Her plump ass presented itself nicely. He parted the fleshy cheeks and thrust himself into her wetness. He pushed in and out for several minutes before he pulled away.

"I hate how you do this to me," he growled under his breath, sitting on the couch and wrapping his fist around his cock. Zoe straddled his legs and sank down on his erection. Her breasts jiggled against his chest. He kissed her deeply, trailing one long kiss down her face and neck. His cock fit inside her like she had been made for him.

Very shortly, he emptied his balls inside her. Zoe raised herself and walked back, a thin trail of cum visible on her thigh. She threw him a wink and went to wash off.

His respite didn't last long. As soon as his unsheathed cock stirred back to life, he saw Zoe sitting seductively on the dining table and spreading her pussy.

"It is yours. It was always yours. I was a fool not to see it before."

Ethan got down on his knees and let his tongue spur her on to a series of orgasms, each eliciting a more powerful cry from her. He lifted her legs to one side of his shoulder and thrust down at an angle. His cock went deeper into her.

His expression was stony and his hips pumped her with emotionless, metronomic frequency. She squirmed and writhed from the eddies of pleasure radiating out of her pussy. Her skin was flushed and her nipples hard and erect. Zoe reached her hands out to caress the sweaty sparse hair on his chest.

He looked down to his cock alternately concealed and revealed inside her fleshy walls. It slid into her fully at each stroke, brushing against her G spot before pulling back all the way. He felt his balls churn and gum begin to gush out so he pulled out and let ropes of sticky white semen splatter across her stomach and breasts.

The next site of defilement was the kitchen counter and he duly drove her to delirium while she sat on the cold granite. His tongue worked overtime, scrubbing her velvety inner walls until her pouting wet lips were drenched in her arousal. He got up and his cock followed, sawing in and out of her with a staccato rhythm.

His recliner and the new rug for the living room followed. She rode him on the recliner, eyes clenched and lost in her own pleasure and he pushed her down on the rug, slamming into her most sensitive bits with every stroke.

It wasn't tender or loving any more. It wasn't love, but a cheap knock-off like an Fendi handbag bought on Canal Street. Even then, Zoe would give an arm and a leg for Ethan's second-hand love.

It took a few more hours to be satisfied that they had used up every surface of his new apartment. Every surface save his bed. Zoe grabbed his hand gently and led him to the edge. She pushed down by the shoulders and knelt between his legs.

"I'm going to miss this so much."

Her mouth engulfed his cock, bobbing back and forth. Ethan groaned and ran his fingers through her silky hair, holding her head in place. He rocked his gently and let his cock move against her lips. The underside met with the rough layer of tastebuds.

Zoe pulled the erect member out of her mouth, watching a pearly bead of precum seep out at the head. It trailed down the shaft until she intercepted it with the tip of her tongue. She liked giving head voluntarily as opposed to after having her jaw almost dislocated by Milos.

Her tongue trailed down his member, tracing the outline of each vein. She reached his balls and sucked them between her lips. Ethan closed his eyes and thought of the time when she did this for him and only him.

Before he could cum, she pressed her hand to his chest and pushed him down. Starting from his cock and balls, she kissed and licked her way up his body until finally her face lined up with his, as did her genitals.

"No matter what, I'll always love you," she whispered to him. He flipped her over and pulled his hips back. Their lovemaking was slow, studied and methodical, each movement stretched out in time so their bodies would remember the lingering effects.

After a few minutes, he lay in bed, holding her to his sweaty frame. Zoe hummed with satisfaction.

"Let's stay like this a little longer."

"Zoe, please. I'll do anything you want, but you have to leave your husband. I'll even..."

Ethan's words never reached from his throat to his mouth. She looked up at him wide-eyed for a few seconds waiting to see if he would complete the sentence. When he didn't, she smiled grimly and kissed him again.

"Don't say anything you truly don't mean, Ethan. At least give me that much respect. Don't hurt yourself by trying to save me. I'm past saving."

"No, please don't say that. I still love you."

"Me too, more than you will ever know and that's why I can't let you take me back. I can't live with myself if I see the pain on your face every time you see me. You'll try to hide it and you'll try to pretend you've moved on, for my sake, but I know you better. I know you'll die inside."

Ethan remained open-mouthed in amazement. Zoe sat up and checked the bedroom clock.

"It's time for me to go home. Milos will be back soon."

Ethan hurt deeply, but there wasn't a damn thing he could say to stop her going.

"Same time tomorrow," were her parting words.

* *

She had broken his heart like a child's dreams, thrown away his marriage like spoilt leftovers and stomped on it on her way out. Ethan knew all of it. He remembered each excruciating detail in a twisted broken record in his head which showed him the same scenes from his life in an infinitely repeating loop.

Yet, why did it burn so much to see her lowered state of being? Why did his heart ache when all her bruises, welts and scars floated back to him? Why did he let her into his apartment and have sex with her again and again when she stood pleading?

The answer was in the same place it had always been. In a felt box, locked in a drawer in his cabinet. A beautiful gold pendant with two pictures from a lifetime ago. He opened it each night to stare at. It was a gateway to a past he wanted nothing more than to return to.

On the nights Zoe wasn't there, he stared at his little time machine and told his fable to a bottle of Scotch.

* *

Ethan had sex with his ex-wife on and off for the next two weeks. It was satisfying for both of them, but lacked the spark of their marriage. It was always at his place, their dirty little secret.

Then came the day he saw her at Mount Sinai hospital. He was on an extended shift and taking a break near the emergency entrance. Immediately he knew something was amiss.

She rushed in screaming for a doctor. The attending stopped her, but Ethan stepped in and took her aside.

"What happened?"

"Milos was in a bar fight. He's badly hurt."

"Where is he?"

"They're bringing him in from the ambulance. Please, Ethan, you have to save him."

He ran to the casualty entrance and saw the orderlies hauling someone onto a gurney. He rushed to the nearest EMT.

"How bad is it?"

"Really bad. He has fractures in his neck, ribs and pelvis. There is massive internal bleeding. We barely got him to the hospital."

"Prep him for surgery asap," he hollered at the orderlies. "Tell Dr Jorgenson to get a team together for emergency multi-system surgery. Find out his blood type and get five units of it from the bank."

Immediately, he rushed off. Even while he ran, he made a call to have OR number 5 ready. The team had already assembled and had begun changing into scrubs. Ethan joined them, making sure he was completely sterilised.

He looked out through the glass doors of the OR and saw Zoe's face with tears staining her cheeks. The sight burnt a fissure through his heart. Even after everything, he still found it distressing when she cried.

Now was not the time for distraction. He double checked himself and walked into the main theatre. His eyes were gritted and his determination was steely.

Despite his personal feelings, Milos Petric was like any other patient who needed his help.