I quickly slip my hand out of her, and she collapses onto me. I unbutton my jeans, and slide her trousers and her underpants down to the floor. I grab her buttocks and lift her up, slamming her back against the wall.
Christine grabs my shoulders and wraps her legs around my back. I slide into her in one swift thrust that makes her yell, letting her head fall onto my shoulder.
I hold her up against the wall – against my body – and I push into her, quickly and furiously, consumed by jealousy and by my own memories. By the past that has come back to remind me of what I was, and what is left of me.
Everything. I want to take everything.
I want to take her, and leave her with nothing.
Because it’s the only way I know to stop her doing the same to me.
“Ryan…” she tries to slow down, seeking out my mouth, but I turn away, letting her slide down the wall with her feet on the floor. I grab her by the waist and turn her around, pushing her back against the wall. I push my palm down on the centre of her back, bending her over in front of me.
I grab her hips and push myself inside her once more.
“Ryan…” she breathes, placing her hands over mine – but I grab them and place them against the wall, keeping her still.
“Shh…” I beg her, thrusting desperately inside her again. “I need to do it like this, please. Don’t…touch me. Please. I can’t do it if you touch me.”
My words hit the right spot. Christine relaxes her arms and lets me take her like that, splayed against the wall of her house.
“I need this,” I continue, my voice quivering with pain. “I can’t feel anything. I can’t feel your touch, or I can’t do it.”
My voice is almost begging.
“I just need to take you. I can’t listen to everything that’s hurting me inside.”
“Ryan…” she tries again, her voice shaking.
And I fold into myself. I crumble and explode into a million tiny fragments.
I tell her the truth.
I tell her who I am.
I tell her what I’ve become.
I tell her that I’m a piece of shit, and even though she doesn’t deserve it, I’m going to pour all of my anger out into her, just to set myself free, even for a few minutes. Just to pass my pain onto someone else.
“I have to do this. You have to hate me, okay?”
I tell her this, ignoring my heart punching against my ribcage.
“I have to hurt you. It’s the only way I can avoid…loving you. To stop you from loving me.”
Tears are piercing at my throat and flaring up in my chest. My thrusts become quicker, my strength uncontrollable even to me. My desperation is overwhelming, and I take everything that this woman will allow me, aware that, when this is all over, I’ll be over too.
