Victor did not walk me downstairs after our depraved afternoon spent together. I saw myself out on my own. His son would have never let that happen.

I couldn't be bothered to take public transportation, so I splurged on an Uber back home. That was one next-level walk of shame.

The shame turned into a mixture of mortification and deep, painful guilt when I set foot on my landing. Arthur was leaning against my doorframe, reading something on his phone, a bouquet of flowers hanging limply from his hand. When he saw me arriving, he stood up straight and his eyes lit up like a cat seeing a Christmas tree.

"Abril," he just said.

As if moved by an external force, I threw myself at him, locking him in the tightest of hugs. He recoiled at first, but he quickly gathered himself and hugged me back. His smell reached my nostrils, he smelled like safety, stability, and comfort.

Then I randomly remembered that my wet underwear was stuffed in my purse after my antics in the hot tub. I jerked out of the hug, horrified by my own actions.

I opened the door and he followed me in. He pulled a pint glass out of my cupboard and filled it with water. He used it as a vase for the flowers he'd brought. He knew I wasn't the kind of person to own a real vase, I barely had matching cutlery. The flowers were beautiful, a colorful assortment of gladioli, with a few green leaves to tie everything together. Every single color of the rainbow was in that bouquet.

"Do you like them?" He asked.

I nodded. I liked them very much. I was not into flowers much but I did have a soft spot for gladioli. I'm sure Arthur knew that – I had mentioned it once in a random conversation – and had picked those on purpose.

"I didn't really know what to do," he continued. "In movies, when the man wants to make amends, he always brings flowers. I'm not sure what it is with flowers, but it seems to be the standard. I thought it was worth a try."

I laughed weakly. The fact that Arthur had searched in his limited movie education for how to make up for a night of bad sex was enough to show how desperate he was.

I felt ashamed and dirty. So dirty that I had a sudden urge to take a shower, even though I had already taken one at Victor's. What if his smell was still on me? I excused myself and entered my bathroom. I scrubbed every single inch of my skin carefully and shampooed my hair twice.

I put on a pair of fluffy sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, and I joined Arthur in the main room. He hadn't moved an inch, he was still sitting in the exact same position I had left him when I'd gone for a shower. I sat down too and balled up next to him.

He respected my obvious desire for silence and privacy for a while, until he eventually gave up.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"Can you. . . Can you kiss me?"

"Abril. . ."

I didn't insist. Kissing him was a terrible idea, and that would definitely not erase what I had done.

My absence of insistence must have set off all his internal alarms, though, because next thing I knew, he delicately put his fingers on my chin and oriented my face so he could place his lips on mine. He gave me a soft, tender, tongue-less kiss. The kind you give to someone you care about, not just somebody you want to undress. It was surprisingly nice. Our lips were moving together, our mouths molding against each other's.

When he tried to pull away, I followed his movement, not letting him create space. He smiled against my lips. He placed a tiny peck there, then another one, then he managed to break the kiss. He was grinning, but worry was all over his face.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

I didn't reply. Everything was wrong. But at the same time nothing was, really. It wasn't cheating if we weren't together, right? And we definitely were not together. Then why did I feel so guilty?

"Listen, Abril. I. . . I came here to talk. And to apologize. I'm sorry the sex was so bad. We were mad at each other, I should have told you no."

The poor thing was apologizing when I was the one who had insisted on having sex.

"Can we please not do that? I don't want to talk about it," I pleaded.

"We can't just ignore it. I—I'd like to try again at some point, and we can't get any better at it if we don't talk about what went wrong the first time."

He'd like to try again at some point. Of course he did. It made sense. In his eyes, the fact that we had slept together was like an officialization of us being together. The reality check would be hard.

"I don't do repeats," I muttered.

"Pardon?"

"I don't do repeats," I repeated louder.

He did his best to hide his pain, but I still saw it.

"But that rule doesn't apply to me," he retorted.

"Why wouldn't it?"

"Abril. . . Don't, please. You know I'm different."

Yes. Yes, he was. And he shouldn't be.

"The hell you are!"

That was harsh, but what else was I supposed to say to him? Different or no different, I was not planning on continuing our little thing any longer. We'd had sex now, game was over.

"Right."

He was hurt. And pained, and upset. The look on his face as he took in my words broke my heart. He opened his mouth to say something, but he closed it again and did not speak a word. Instead, he pushed me away from him and got off the couch. Determined, he grabbed his jacket and left quietly without saying goodbye.

Ouch.

I guess there's only so much pushing away you can do to someone before they've had enough of you. I would have bailed a long time ago if the roles had been reversed. It was for the best, really. I could not be the kind, loving girlfriend he wanted me to be, he couldn't be the emotionally detached sexual partner I needed him to be.

My phone pinged with a message.

Arthur: Are you seriously not going to come after me?

Me: Why would I?

Really, why? So I could hurt him some more?

Arthur: I see. Goodbye, Abril.

And that was it. He got points for trying very hard, I'll give him that. But we were not a good match after all so why bother?

* * *

"Abby! You'd better open the fucking door!"

Sigrid was hammering on my front door while ringing the bell at the same time, making a cacophony in my flat. I was on all fours on my bed, Blake's dick balls-deep inside my vagina, seconds away from coming.

Well, not anymore. Sigrid's lovely intervention had sure killed the mood.

It was the Friday evening after Arthur had left me. I had not told Sigrid about his swift exit, but something told me that her pounding frantically on my door meant that she had found out.

I was having sex with Blake, the cute waiter who had once given me his number when I had an impromptu breakfast with Dullac Senior. I kept a note on my phone of all the numbers I was ever given. When I didn't want to put too much effort into finding someone new, I would just contact one of the numbers on my list. Easier than Tinder. As soon as we slept together, though, the number was deleted. No repeats, as always.

That night was lovely Blake Miller's turn to get a piece of me. And so far, it'd been quite nice. Not extraordinary, but nice enough.

"Who is that?" Blake asked, still buried inside me.

"That would be my best friend. And it sounds like she has some urgent stuff to say to me."

"Should I pull out?"

"It depends. Are you close? She's not going anywhere, so if you want to finish, it's now or never."

"Yeah, I can be fast, I just need a couple minutes."

"Okay, then."

Who said romance was dead?

Blake gripped my hips and started thrusting into me with an unprecedented speed. I reached between my legs and rubbed my clit.

"I swear to God, Abby, you'd better not be having sex right now!" Sigrid threatened as both Blake and I started to moan. We ignored her.

"For fuck's sake, Abs! Open the damn door or I'll kick it open!"

She was getting very mad. Sigrid did not like to be ignored. I mean, who does? But she really, really didn't like it. That was all the more reason to get one good dicking before that shitstorm fell upon me.

Blake and I both came within two minutes of being interrupted. It was not grandiose, it was not bad either, considering the context. He pulled out as soon as he finished, and I promptly went to put on a robe. I gave him a few seconds to put his underwear on and I opened the door.

Sigrid stormed inside, shoving her shoulder into mine as she walked past me, and went straight to Blake.

"You," she said to him in her terrifying Viking voice. "Out."

Blake did not hesitate. He swiftly put his pants on but grabbed all the rest of his clothes in his hands and left.

"Call me?" He said when he was on the doorstep.

"She won't call you!" Sigrid replied for me. She knew I never called them again. And also, it was pretty clear she didn't want me to call him anyway.

He didn't look back and left, probably traumatized. Sigrid was in the middle of my flat, hands on hips, looking furious, and disappointed at the same time.

"Well, hello friend," I said in a sarcastic tone that didn't make her laugh.

She sat on the chair and summoned me forwards with just a small twitch of her chin. She was that good.

"Abby, what did you do?" Sigrid asked, her accusatory finger pointed at me.

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb with me."

I wasn't even trying to play dumb. I had done a lot of shit that past week and I wasn't sure what exactly she was referring to.

"No, I'm serious, Sig. I need context. What exactly do you want to know?"

"You want context? I'll give you context. I had a meeting with Arthur today, and he was being more irritable than usual. Naturally, I lawyered the hell out of him and he spilled the tea. He said something about you breaking up with him. Is that true?"

"Oh, is that what he said?" I enquired.

I had a hard time believing that Arthur would be complaining to Sigrid about our alleged breakup, which was not even a breakup.

"I'm paraphrasing, obviously. This man is a wall and it's impossible to get anything out of him, but that was the overall idea."

That was more plausible.

"We'd have to be together in the first place for me to break up with him," I addressed the subject she wanted to talk about.

"Don't play this stupid game with me, Abs. You know I have no patience for that."

"Fine. Well, assuming a breakup did happen, which it didn't but I'm pretending it did just for the sake of the argument, he's the one who instigated it. Not me."

Her attitude immediately dropped a notch.

"It's not what he said."

"What did he say?"

I was curious. How could Arthur turn leaving my place without a word into me breaking up with him? I had done nothing to stop him, sure, but I had not kicked him out.

"Something about you being unavailable. Which you are, so we can't really blame him for that, but you always have been. What changed? What did you do?"

"Why do you assume I did something?"

"Because I know you. Spit it out."

I realized that I had not updated Sigrid on my life for a while. She didn't even know I'd had sex with Arthur. How had I managed to forget to tell her about it?

You slept with Victor, that's how you managed to forget.

This was going to be a long, tough conversation.

"Do you want coffee? Or alcohol? It's a long story."

"Fuck it, let's get the wine out, then."

I took out a bottle of red and two glasses. Our beverages in hand, I started telling the story.

"Okay, so," I started, "first things first, you should know that I had sex with Arthur last weekend."

Sigrid's mouth fell open, true shock in her eyes.

"Shut up!"

I nodded, confirming that the impossible had happened. I expected her to be happy about it, she'd been rooting for him so long. And if not happy, I expected at least a smile, or some congratulations. What I didn't expect, however, is disappointment.

"What a dumbass!"

"Excuse me?"

"Arthur, what a dumbass! He's so stupid for sleeping with you. That's the worst thing he could have done. Let me guess: you slept together, he wanted more, you hit him with your stupid 'no repeats' rule, it hurt him and he left. Am I wrong?"

"Well. . ."

There was a lot more to it, but she wasn't too far off.

"How did that even happen?" She asked for more details.

I told her about the visit from his sister, how I had reacted to it, and how he'd shown up the following day to have a discussion.

"You guys are so good, yet so bad for each other, it's really impressive," she commented.

"What do you mean?"

"You're two very emotionally challenged people. When you're not being unnervingly stupid, you're very sweet. You both look like you're fifteen when you're together. But because you also have the emotional capacity of teenagers, you hurt each other so bad without even meaning to. It's a shame."

"So you agree that he hurt me, right? He should have defended me against his sister."

"Oh, one hundred percent. You win that round. What happened after that?"

I mentioned the gala, Arthur's reaction to my outfit, the Danceathon with Matthew, the argument Arthur and I had, and finally the kiss and the sex this had all led to. I left out the sex being bad. I didn't want to embarrass Arthur, even behind his back.

"Mmh," Sigrid commented, apparently unable to form a coherent thought about the soap opera that my life had been recently. "Surprisingly, I don't know who to side with."

"What do you mean? I think it's pretty obvious that I did nothing wrong there."

Yet. The wrongness came later.

"I know you truly believe that, and I know you didn't hurt him on purpose. But really, Abs, how did you think dancing for one hour with a guy you hooked up with in front of Arthur would go? He must have felt horrible. Imagine if he had done that to you!"

"I wouldn't have cared. We are not together, he can do whatever he wants."

She sighed.

"Do you actually mean that?"

"Yes!"

I think I did. I couldn't say I was not the jealous type, I totally was. But hat was the whole point of this whole 'no repeats' thing, wasn't it? No second times, no feelings, no jealousy.

"If you say so. . ." she conceded, not believing me for one second. "What happened next? How did the breakup happen?"

"Yeah. . . You're not going to like the next part."

She did not like it. Not for one bit. Even the fact that the sex with Victor had been so great was not enough to get her to somehow sympathize with what I had done. She was utterly disgusted, which is not an expression I had seen a lot on her face. We had done a lot of questionable stuff in our younger days, she was by no means an example of virtue. And yet, my affair with Victor shocked her. That's how twisted it was.

She looked at me like a disappointed mother would, and she said nothing. That was way worse than her yelling. I liked when she yelled, it gave me an opportunity to yell back and it was cathartic to match her energy. But I couldn't match what I was reading on her face.

"If that's any consolation," I said, "I feel terrible about it."

The disappointment instantly turned into worry. Or pity, maybe?

"Aw, babes, why would you think it's a consolation? I feel no joy in seeing you sad."

"You look so. . . disappointed. I just wanted to let you know that I'm not enjoying this."

"Abs, I'm not your mother. As long it's not my dad you fucked, it's fine, I'm not mad at you. I'm just. . . I'm very sad for you. You deserve so much better. I wish you were happier, I wish you let yourself be happy. I wish you let Arthur make you happy."

"How can you be so sure he's right for me?"

"I should take a video of you two the next time you're hanging out together. You should see it. When you're with him, I feel like I'm seeing the Abby of before. . . you know. The Abby who brought heart-shaped biscuits to Josh's birthday party when everyone else brought beer."

"You're never going to let me live that one down, will you?"

"Never!"

I smiled. Once upon a time, I was much more of a romantic than I was now.

"Well, anyway, it's not like it matters anymore. Whatever there was between me and Arthur is over, now. It's a waste of time for you to try and help me make things right."

"I wouldn't be so sure. He seemed pretty upset."

"Since when are you and him best buddies?"

"Why? You jealous?"

I snorted. I knew Sigrid would never do anything sexual or romantic with him, she would not do that to me. But was I weirded out by their blossoming friendship? Maybe.

"We're not buddies. He just looked like a kicked puppy and I asked what happened. He refused to say anything, said we needed to remain professional, blah blah blah. Then I more or less forced him to have coffee with me after work and the rest was easy. Getting information out of people like him is literally my job. He seemed very affected by your falling out."

"Yeah, if you say so."

"Why don't you just give it a real shot? Go to his place, apologize, and have sex again. Be done with your fucking stupid rule!"

"Sig, I slept with his dad."

"Well, that's a massive fuck-up, I can't argue with that. But he doesn't need to know."

"Look who's encouraging me to withhold information. Not very lawyer of you."

"Wrong. Knowing what to say and what to withhold is specifically what makes a good lawyer."

I rolled my eyes. "In any case, I'm still not ready to be emotionally involved."

"Then just be friends with benefits, or something. Make him your new Cedric."

"It's not that easy. . . He would never agree to that."

Sigrid took my hands in hers and looked me straight in the eye, as if she was explaining something very basic to someone intellectually challenged.

"Listen to me, Abs. This man is crazy about you. It's clear as day. And one day you'll be crazy about him, too. It's also very obvious. Just make it work. One step at a time. And for now, the first step is to own up to your mistake and apologize to him. And have sex. You need to show him that he matters more than that doofus who was in your bed earlier."

"What do I apologize for, though? I'm not going to show up there and be like 'hey, sorry I had sex with your dad. Now let's fuck'!"

That had the merit of making her laugh.

"Yeah, maybe don't do that. Apologize for what he got upset about. Apologize for refusing to talk to him, for rejecting him, and for not coming after him."

"What if he refuses my apology?"

"He won't. I could bet a lot of money on it."

"But what if he does?"

"Honey, that's a risk you'll have to take."

"I'm not sure it's worth it."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "How was the sex with him?" She asked out of the blue.

I was taken aback by that question. I couldn't tell her the truth, that would be humiliating for him. But I also couldn't lie to my best friend. I would sometimes omit details that she didn't need to know, but I never lied to her.

"It was bad, wasn't it?" She answered for me.

I did not confirm nor deny. I just stayed still and looked down.

"I'll take that as a yes. Don't worry, I won't ever mention it. But I have another question for you. Why didn't you tell me if was bad? You're usually very happy to give me loads of details about your sex life."

"I just don't want to be a bitch to him. He's got his issues but, overall, he's sweet and doesn't deserve that I talk bad about his performance in bed behind his back. But it's not about him. It's about common decency."

"Remember that guy you slept with at the frat house last year, right after initiation? Mommy-Issues Max I think you called him?"

"Ugh! Please, don't remind me, I still have nightmares about that night. Honestly, this dude's obsession with sucking on my breasts was disturbing."

"I know, right!"

She looked at me with a mischievous glint in her eye. I had walked right into her trap.

"See? You have no problems trash-talking men. Arthur is the only one you're willing to spare. That's called caring, honey, and I think that means he's worth taking a little risk for."

"You know, you're putting so much energy into being his cheerleader that I'm going to start thinking he's actually paying you for that, and that the VDO's stuff is just a front."

"I'm not his cheerleader, silly, I'm yours."

"What happens when he eventually finds out that I slept with his dad? There's no way it'll remain a secret forever."

"You might be married to him and have two of his kids by the time he finds out. He'll have no choice but to get over it."

I glared at her. "I'm serious, Sig."

"I say we cross that bridge when we get to it? You keep saying you guys were not together, so you technically didn't cheat on him. You just made a very questionable decision. You might be able to argue your way around that one. Oh! I could draft you a speech! That'd be good practice for court."

I sighed. "Any chance we'll laugh about it in a few years?"

"I wouldn't hold my breath."

I sighed again. "Of all the men in this world, why does it have to be this one? He's not even that hot."

"Abs, you've never been into hot men."

"I'm sorry, what about Josh?"

"Josh was not hot."

I had a gasp of pure horror.

"Excuse me?" I exclaimed.

"He was a cute boy, and very charismatic, and a badass. His British accent was to die for, I'll give you that. But he was objectively not hot." She shrugged. "Sorry to break it to you after all those years."

"You're delusional. All the girls at school wanted him."

"That's charisma. I swear to God, Abs, he was just very charming. Not hot. You like men with a special something, you don't do stupidly hot men."

"I can't believe it's taken you ten years to confess that you did not find Josh attractive. I feel betrayed."

She shrugged. "I was scared you'd tear me a new one if I told you. I kinda still am."

We laughed. Then I realized it was the first time I talked about Josh without wanting to cry.

It felt good.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A/N: So . . . Yeah, Abril can be ✨a tad✨ insensitive. It'll get better, I promise.

On another note, happy New Year everyone! We're now back on my regular posting schedule, meaning next chapter will be on Wednesday.

Love,
Charlie.