Complicated by You by Kenya Wright

her, I could tell that she was about to cry. “Please Jay, all the weeks, the months we’ve spent together. Please, baby, don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to me,” she cried. “What am I going to do without you? If you leave me, I-I … I don’t know what I would do … ”
    Oh god. This is so uncomfortable.
    Sobs filled the space. She cried loudly. I could hear movement behind one of our neighbors’ doors. My lust-driven high evaporated. I turned to Jay. His attention centered on her. Sadness lingered in his eyes. His fingers twitched at his sides as if he was deciding whether to reach out and hug her or not. He looked my way, right as she buried her face into both of her hands. I motioned to him to go ahead and console her.
    He’d never been a monster or horrible guy. He always saw the best, when I and others couldn’t. He cared and loved, when others walked away. It was the reason why I craved him so. Because let’s face it, men with muscular bodies littered the earth, but men full of all-consuming love and unmarred souls were hard to find. If he hadn’t wanted to console her, I would’ve been turned off by him. If he’d been so desperate to sleep with me and therefore waved off her hysteria in order to fuck me, it would’ve ruined the moment. I dreamed about knights in armor so shiny it blinded me and triggered my heart with fear to smudge the surface with my dirty hands. Jay was my knight, and for now, Cynthia played the damsel in distress.
    “I should let you both talk.” I rushed out of the hallway, tossing Jay a weak smile to let him know that we were okay.
    “It’s going to be fine, Cynthia.” Jay walked over and held her.
    “What am I supposed to do? I messed up with the phone. I know I did. But it’s not fair. Give me another chance. It’s not fair. I don’t have anyone else.” Each of her words choked on saliva and tears. “You won’t talk to me. Then there’s these football guys in and out of my room! I don’t even know why. You’re out here talking, but not to me. I don’t deserve this.”
    “I’m sorry, Cynthia.”
    “I don’t want to break up.”
    “But, we should.”
    “Why?”
    “Things have changed.”
    “How?” She sniffled.
    “I’m so sorry, Cynthia, but I think we should move on. We can be friends.”
    “No! Please, Jay. No.”
    I glanced back at him right before I entered the room. His arms encased her in comfort. One of his hands patted her back. She buried her face into his huge chest, screeching and crying. He listened to her go on and on about how bad she felt, that she’d learned her lesson, and was so very sorry. As soon as I opened my bedroom door, he looked up and directed his gaze to me.
    “I love you,” Cynthia rubbed her face on his shirt. “Please don’t break up with me.”
    “Let’s just be friends.” The regret in his eyes transformed to lust as he planted his gaze on my behind.
    “I won’t let you break up with me,” Cynthia said. “I just won’t.”
    “We have to, Cyn. Things have changed.” He dragged his attention from the curve of my behind up to my face. Desire pooled in his eyes. Oh my. If he could fuck me with his gaze, I would’ve already been coming by now. He made no attempt to change his expression as he mouthed the word, “later.”  

 
     
     
     
     

     
     
    After an aggravating half hour of Cynthia begging Jay to stay and sleep in her bed, I fell into a comatose state, which was good. I didn’t think I could stomach seeing Jay over in her area cuddled up with her, after he’d told me how much he desired me. It would’ve ruined the night. A hero consoled the damsel in distress, but a hero did not fuck the damsel in distress while the heroine lay a few feet next to him. What would I do if he did have sex with her? How would that feel now that things have possibly changed between us? I vowed to deal with whatever I discovered in the morning with a clear and logical head.
    Nina Simone’s deep voice singing