Avowal

AZURE EYES

The streets of Baltimore were quiet. On one of these roads sat a Chinese restaurant, covered by failing, red bricks. One of the best restaurants in the city. Above it was a one-bedroom apartment that belonged to Janelle. Her apartment was about the same size as Jenna and Avery's. She relaxed with her legs stretched out on a leather couch in her living room. A pair of black yoga pants and a white tank top covered her. Undergarments were, understandably, absent. A new picture of herself with her brown hair made the rounds on social media. As predicted, many people had liked her new profile picture. Some of her older friends remembered that she was a brunette as a child. Janelle embraced her original hair color.

She did so because she craved liberation. Liberation from all the niceties and social graces that the world levied upon her. She wanted, she needed, to be free from it all. Profoundly deep down, within the recesses of her soul, there was a small, unlit corner of her personality, and there existed her deepest fantasies. For so long, she believed that the reason she felt so ashamed of the things about which she fantasized, was because they were societally, objectively wrong. No woman should ever have the debauched thoughts that, usually, ran rampant in her mind; because she never quite felt comfortable with any guy she dated, Janelle often avoided emotional attachment, settling only for physical intimacy.

She feared becoming truly emotionally involved. How could she possibly sit down with a lover and explain to them that during sex, she liked to be slapped or called names? Her desires were downright carnal. She ached to find someone who would be open-minded enough to accept her depravity. For that reason, she was eternally grateful to Jenna's request for a threesome. Jenna, truly, asked Janelle to do something she thought no one would: she asked her to be honest with herself. Janelle enjoyed the evening with Jenna and Avery more so than nearly all her previous sexual exploits. And the sex she had Wednesday night with Avery? Even better. Dare she admit, it was magical?

It was typical of her to find someone who would satisfy, or even take pleasure in, fulfilling her desires, and that person already be taken. Perusing through the large list of people who had liked her picture, curiously Jenna was not among them. The recent turn of events saddened Janelle. Jenna was someone whose friendship would be difficult to lose. A most unusual conflict waged within her. No second threesome meant Janelle would have to figure out another way of sleeping with Avery. Which, admittedly, was not a difficult task. Her preference, however, was to find a way of sleeping with him that did not involve hiding it from Jenna; since Jenna seemed to be ignoring Janelle, she worried her oldest friendship was lost.

Janelle's attention turned to the ding on her phone. A text message from Jenna was waiting for her to open and read. Janelle was so excited, she incorrectly entered her password several times to unlock her phone.

[Hey. I'm sorry for getting upset with you the other day. Forgive me?]

Janelle smiled widely. An olive branch had been extended. Not wanting any more strife between her and her friend, she responded.

[It's my fault. I put stress on you and I'm sorry. I love you so much and I miss you.]

What a turn of events. Janelle believed she would have to wait several more days before she worked up the courage necessary to apologize. Instead, her friend, her best friend, did it for her. Janelle admired Jenna's immense inner strength. Another message soon followed.

[I really did enjoy being with you. I'm seriously considering having another threesome with you. I ask that you be patient and don't rush me into doing it again. Is that fair?]

[Absolutely. I'm just happy that we're speaking again.]

[Me too. I saw you went back to brown. It looks so good on you!]

Jenna must have seen the picture Janelle posted on her profile. She normally would have given the picture a "like," seeing as how Jenna was so into social media. That notwithstanding, she was glad her best friend liked what she saw.

[Thank you! I thought it was time for a change.]

[I agree. Anyway, what are you doing tomorrow night?]

An interesting question. Janelle wondered if Jenna had something planned, or if she was just trying to do something spontaneously. Nevertheless, she would take whatever opportunity she could to spend time with her friend.

[Nothing. I have work until 3, but I'm free after that. Want to get together?]

[Yeah, I really want to go back to that restaurant we went to last weekend. Let's bring Avery so he can pay for us.]

Janelle giggled at the comment.

[Sure! I would love that!]

[Great. Meet at my place at 7:30?]

[Sounds good. I'll be there. Oh, before I forget, I apologize for kissing you the other day. I really misread the moment.]

A response was slow in coming. Janelle worried she had frightened off Jenna. A second trip to that delicious restaurant again was exciting. Perhaps she could convince the two of them to have a few hard drinks. Which would, possibly, lead to them having her involved in their evening. Janelle oozed at the number of ways that she could feel Avery's cock inside of her again. Giving up on a response, one finally arrived.

[It's fine. I kind of liked it.]

Content for the evening, Janelle plugged in her phone to charge and fell sleep on her couch.

CLEAR-EYED

It was a rainy Thursday evening as Jenna stepped out of the shower. The lights in the bathroom flickered, flexing their resilience against the tremendous storm trying to divest them of electricity to function. Her automatic toothbrush did its job, massaging the straight rows of white teeth within her mouth. The lights continued to struggle against the intensifying squall. After spitting and rinsing the remaining paste from her mouth, she examined her face in the small mirror in front of her. A single, red bump flailed its arms in anger in the center of her forehead, just an inch above where her two lovely eyebrows rested. It had yet to reach its apex, but she could tell from how swollen it appeared, it was going to be a substantially embarrassing blemish. Sighing in distress, she opened the cabinet behind the mirror, and removed a small tube of acne medication. Applying a small amount onto the bump, she placed the tube back into the cabinet. As she reached to turn off the switch, the lights suddenly blackened. And they did not come back on. She fastened her baby blue towel around her body and walked out of the bathroom. Avery was in the kitchen, shuffling through a drawer. Pacing into the dining room, he held in his hand, two long, white candles and a black lighter. He situated the candles in the glass holders on the table. The small fire was held above the wick of one of them, eventually catching fire after a few seconds. That candle was used to light the other one. With his work finished, he pulled out one of the chairs under the table and seated himself.

"I wonder how long the power will be out," Jenna asked, walking over to the table to see the candles. From the same batch as the ones burned before the threesome, they were thin and without a scent or fragrance, but they provided enough illumination for the small area.

"Who knows," Avery responded, checking the weather on his phone. The worst of the storm was upon them, and it would not be long before it passed. Jenna joined him at the table.

"So, I asked Janelle to come by tomorrow. I thought it would be nice for us to get together and have dinner at that Salvadorian place. I think you'll like it," she said, watching his facial reactions in the candlelight. Surprisingly, he made no determinate gestures to indicate a level of interest about her divulgence.

"Okay. That sounds like fun," he responded, finally turning off the screen to his phone and placing it onto the table. Jenna searched his face for any hint of interest. It showed none. He showed none.

"You like Janelle, right?" She asked. The week had been one of the worst for her in some time. She was, consequently, in a combative mood, but she remained, overall, collected. Though, anyone closely paying attention to her could perceive how easily she could lash out in rage at any moment.

"Yeah. She's fun," he answered. He stood and walked into the kitchen. Bucking against common sense rules about power outages, Avery opened the fridge and pulled a Yuengling longneck from one of the shelves.

"I mean, you've fucked her multiple times. You obviously like something about her," she blurted. The comment was not intentional. It was merely a case of her thinking something and absentmindedly saying it out loud. Needing something to ease her anxiety, she decided to have a beer with him.

"What else do we have in there?" She asked, brushing her clumpy, wet hair out of her face. Avery leaned into the fridge and shuffled around its contents, trying to decipher the labels on the bottles.

"We have...Yuenglings, some Coronas left over from when Maggie visited, a few milk stouts, and I think there's one more Pink Bubble left," he answered.

"Ooh! Let me have that Pink Bubble," she requested happily. Avery hoisted it from the fridge and closed it. True to his word, the bottle possessed the telltale pink label, decorated with what appeared to be pieces of gum. Pink Bubble was a lager from a micro-brewery about an hour away from them. It tasted like pink champagne to Jenna. After popping the cap on the bottle, he walked back into the dining room and handed the beverage to her.

"Thank you," she said. Holding the longneck to her full lips, she imbibed half of the bottle in a matter of seconds. When she placed the bottle onto the table, her stomach pushed back against the collection of air within it. At first, she released a few hiccups, followed by a loud belch. Avery snickered at her.

"That was sexy," he said, taking another swig of his drink.

"Now, you know how I feel when you burp out loud. I swear, sometimes it's so intense, I feel the floor shaking," she joked. After drinking a little more of the swill, she placed the bottle back onto the table. Holding it between her hands, her index finger traced the rim.

"I'm sorry. I'll stop doing it," he answered.

"It's fine. It really bothered me, at first, but after being with you for so long, I guess I'm used to it," she said, bridging the distance between their eyes with her gaze.

"I imagine there are a lot of things I do that bother you," he said, raising his drink back to his lips. Jenna laughed at his comment, mimicking his actions with her drink.

"There's one or two," she fired back. A pause filled the apartment, as awkward and out of place as when they first started dating and had nothing to say to each other.

"Look, Jenna. I'm sorry about last night," he said. She took a deep breath and finished her drink. After about three minutes of discerning how to respond to his apology, she finally decided that no one would blame her if she took the chance to blow off some steam.

"Which part of last night?"

"All of it," he answered, finishing his beverage. He placed the empty vessel at the end of the table. To his comment, she laughed. He was so transparent. How could she not have seen it? Any time he would not select a definite reason for issuing an apology, the general term, "all of it", was used. It was hollow wording. It was only done because he felt obligated to say so, without feeling the emotions behind the apology. What once comforted Jenna, now only served to fill her with more irritation.

"No. I don't want to hear that. I want you to tell me exactly why you're sorry," she spoke loudly. Conveniently, as her sentence finished, a bolt of lightning brightened the black sky outside of their apartment. Moments later, the loud clash of thunder followed.

"I'm sorry for making you suck me, even though you weren't feeling well. I'm sorry for telling you to swallow, even though you obviously didn't want to, and I'm especially sorry for calling you a whore," he spoke aloud. Jenna felt the sincerity in his words, and she knew he meant them. Their genuine nature did nothing, however, to assuage her.

"You know, Avery...you've done a lot of shitty things to me lately. Last night almost felt like the final straw for me. Don't get me wrong: I love you with all of my heart, but you've been a real asshole recently," she said, sitting back into the chair. Her right thigh pulled itself atop her left, crossing her legs. Avery shook his head and sighed.

"You're right. I have been an asshole to you, Jenna." Her eyes squinted on his face.

"I mean, you, borderline, assaulted me on my birthday, and then you just left me there crying. You face-fucked me so hard, it made me puke. All week long, you've been trying to fuck me, even though I've begged you to let me have my space. And then last night, after I told you I wasn't feeling well...you put me on my knees, gag me, and call me a whore. After I told you never to call me that," she declared with increasing volume.

"You told me to do it," he shouted in defense.

"That doesn't mean I wanted you to do it, Avery! Maybe I was testing you."

"Testing me?"

"Yes."

"Why the fuck would you be testing me?" He shouted at her. Jenna uncrossed her legs and threw herself towards him, slamming her hands onto the table.

"Because maybe I'm feeling unappreciated, like you've been taking advantage of me! I'm not here just to satisfy your sexual needs! All I've done is given to you! For fuck's sake, I let you fuck me and another woman at the same time! I've given! I've given! I've given! What have you done for me recently?" She screamed at him. Her volume was so high, her voice gave out towards the end of her tirade. Avery had no answer to her question. The truth was much worse than even she knew. How could he even begin to explain to her what had transpired? Erin? Janelle? Losing his job? It was nothing but bad news.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked. Jenna held her position, digging her fingernails into the table. It was all she could do to keep from attacking him.

"Let me ask you a question. If our roles were reversed, and I was the one shaking your head and screaming in your face to swallow my cum, and you didn't want to do it, but I kept shouting at you anyway, how would you feel?" She asked, her emerald eyes hurling spheres of fire at him.

"How would you feel, if I called you a whore, Avery?"

"I would feel like shit," he answered quietly. Hearing his words, Jenna leaned away from him, once again crossing her arms and legs.

"I've felt that way for days. I've been exercising rule six and sleeping on the problems, hoping that they would get better and go away on their own. But you know what? I'm done with that. You need to know, Avery: I'm very unhappy with you, and I'm very unhappy in this relationship," she confessed. As before, Avery had no response for her. She looked towards the wall, where some shadows danced against it in the light. She was ready. The words she wanted to say were there. Looking back at Avery, he finally appeared to her as he genuinely was: pathetic.

"Are you truly sorry for what you've done?" She asked, again tossing her wet hair from her face.

"Yes," he whispered, looking down at the table.

"Then what are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know what to do," he confessed, shaking his hands into the air. "You tell me." Another long pause filled the room. Jenna stopped just short of ending their relationship, but she knew she could have. If she gave him up that night, or the next, she would be losing nothing that enlivened her. Great sex. That was all. She was beautiful; the world was inundated with men who would climb atop one another to get a piece of her. Finally, after fifteen minutes of the two of them sitting in the dark, the lights suddenly relit. The first thing she saw was the expression on his face. Pain. Pain that she inflicted upon him. Remorse for it was far away.

"I'm not sure there's anything you can do," she said, standing from the chair. Her fists were clenched. She gnashed her teeth together. He looked dejected, like an animal whose leg was caught in a bear trap. Now, he knew what it felt like for her.

"I'm going to bed," she barked. Seconds later, she stomped towards their bedroom, feeling somewhat lightened. The ire building within her had poisoned her. With some of it released, she felt, to a degree, vindicated.

DISSIOCIATE

The stress of Jenna's job had reached a fever pitch, and when she left her architecture office, she slammed the door to her red Mustang convertible. After throwing her briefcase into the passenger seat, she slammed herself against the headrest. With her emerald eyes tightly shut, her strong lungs breathed in several deep, slow aspirations. How could her team lose the project they were working on? Why could they not recover any of the files? Knowing as much as she did about computers, it vexed her that dozens of digital models, measurements, statistics, and materials lists could just vanish without a trace. Nearly ten minutes passed before Jenna opened her eyes and pressed the button on her car to start the engine. Through some sheer act of divine intervention, the week had ended without her losing her mind. What awaited her later in the evening was a prospect she knew she needed to take: confronting Janelle and Avery.

During her short drive throughout the city, she contemplated what she would say to them. Would she find the strength within her to say what she truly felt? Even Jenna was unsure that she wanted to completely end her relationship with Avery. One certainty was that she wanted answers from him. Answers for his recent string of lies, which violated the first and most vital of their relationship rules. While she entertained the possibility that she might remain with Avery, assuming major changes occurred between them, she directed her thoughts to Janelle. She had known her for years. Two decades, in fact. Including Janelle in her fantasy may have been a mistake, after all. Janelle wanted Avery, and if Jenna remained friends with her, there was a dread that she would come home and discover them in bed again. The thought of what transpired two days prior sickened Jenna. This night would not end without remuneration.

Entering their building, she noticed a note taped next to the elevator, stating that the management was aware of the heating issue, and that they were working as quickly as they could to repair it. It did very little to alleviate her anxiety. At least the weekend had finally arrived; two whole days of not having to deal with the madness at her office. Standing outside of their apartment, she sighed once and shook the doorknob. As she anticipated, it was unlocked. Avery's car was nowhere in the front parking lot, so perhaps it was around the back. Regardless, she entered her home, tossed her briefcase to the floor, and kicked off her black heels. She untied the strap holding her red jacket around herself, and dropped it onto the ground. Stepping several more feet into the apartment, she saw Avery standing in the bathroom. He wore a black sweater and grey dress pants. Much more elegant than what Jenna planned on wearing for the night.

"You're a gorgeous idiot," she thought of him. Without saying a single word to him, her petite feet made their way into the bedroom, where she undressed slowly. As each piece of clothing parted from her body, her eyes stared at the increasing amount of fair flesh in the long mirror of her closet. It had been sullied by years of his hands and fluids. Was there no part of her that remained exclusively to her, or had Avery convinced her to give herself entirely to him? Maybe she would find a way of taking some of it back tonight. Completely naked, she exited the bedroom for the bathroom. No words were exchanged between her and Avery. Uncharacteristically, he paid her no attention, even though she was naked. Acknowledging that, she knew he was either upset or angry with her. Jenna cared not about either possibility. Before she turned on the water, she sneaked a peek of his face. Upon it was guilt.