The Game of Love

The Game of Love Chapter 25

Sarah:

I hate how vulnerable and utterly weak I am at the moment. I’ve always hated having that feeling. But why, why did I cry when Leon told me that his confession was only the alcohol speaking? I should’ve known it was coming. However, a part of me hoped that his love for me was true. Why was that? I must sound like an idiot for thinking like this.

Here I lay on my bed, clutching myself, practically curled up on my side, sobbing silently. You’re being an idiot for crying, I thought to myself, forcing the tears to go away. God…I hate this so damn much! The feelings in my heart, the thoughts in my mind, they were all muddled up inside me; I wasn’t sure what the truth is or what is the contradiction.

When I heard footsteps trampling up the stairs, I braced myself for what’s to come next. I immediately brushed off the tears; clutching myself harder than ever—letting all the overwhelming thoughts and feelings crush their weight onto me. When the sound drew nearer, I relaxed myself, trying not to make it seem obvious that I was in pain. Remembering that I forgot to close and lock my door, I cursed myself. You’re so stupid, Sarah! Great…get ready for his damn persistent questions… Things are only going to get worse from here… Good job…you dumb blonde…

Pushing open the half closed door, he peered at my body that faced away from him. “Hey…you all right?” he asked.

I gave a hesitant nod before replying, trying to keep my voice steady. “Of course I’m all right. What makes you think that I’m not?”

Despite my back facing him, I could tell he was giving off a shrug. “You just seemed…off…or something like that.”

Why must I be so readable?

“Well I’m fine,” I muttered flatly.

After a moment of silence, he told me, “Breakfast is ready.”

“Yeah…I’ll be down in a minute…” I answered slowly—God, why can’t I fake my typical normalcy? I’m just being so…obvious. And it’s pissing me off.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I said I’m fine!” I retorted, a little too defensive and abrupt than what was intended. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Thank God Leon left me in my room before I had a fit with myself…

Leon:

She didn’t look me in the eye. Not once. It was obvious that my simple and stupid lie hurt her in the worst way possible. I wanted to be honest, but at the same time, I didn’t want to confess to her when she’s got a boyfriend. Not the best timing.

I’m stupid and I know it. I don’t need to be told twice, three times, maybe a bazillion times. Still, I’m still reckless, not being able to have control over my mouth that only spouts out violent and senseless words that only hurt the one I love. I haven’t grown out of my immature and brainless self. I thought I had—but the truth is…I haven’t changed once since our parting eight years ago. Maybe I’m much worse than before.

Still…as I talked to Sarah, I could sense the shakiness in her voice, despite her attempts in trying to make it sound steady. I already knew why she immediately left the kitchen after our conversation. She wanted to cry. And it wasn’t out of relief or satisfaction. It was out of pain and distress. I wasn’t sure if I should be glad that she seemed to expected and wanted my love for her to be real—which it always has been—or if I should feel regret for lying to her like an idiot only to end up hurting her once more.

It was the latter.

Sarah came down right as I mulled over all of this. Taking the seat in front of me, she hung her head low, trying to hide her eyes beneath her bangs. She’s terrible at hiding things—I could sense it even before she even attempted trying to keep it from me. Looking at her hard, I noticed the redness and slight swollenness in her eyes. I was right. I’m always right when it’s concerned with Sarah.

She was fiddling with her food using her silverware. It irritated me…to think she’d expect me to not be suspicious about that. “Sarah.”

Her head immediately shot up before abruptly looking back down to her cooked breakfast. “What?” was all she that she could ask. As though she could read my mind, she cried, “Nothing’s wrong, damn it!”

“Not when you’re saying it like that,” I snapped back flatly. Before she could argue, I stood from my seat, making my way towards her. I grabbed her face, forcefully lifting it so I could look right at her. “See? You’re not all right.” She bit her lip, and I knew just what she was trying to hold back—tears. “Tell me what’s wrong?” I asked, despite me knowing just what’s going on in the back of her mind.

Sarah:

Stop giving me mixed signals! I thought to myself, wanting to scream those words in his face. He’s always confusing me. Of course…his bipolar personality explains all that, but seriously. Leon told me that he doesn’t love me, but at the same time, he’s acting like he’s caring for me, treating me like I’m precious, and being quite protective towards me. Not only that. He’d be quite possessive. In some circumstances, I’d notice the jealousy whenever I’m with some other guy. Even the actions I do hurt him like hell. And when he kisses me—especially when he kisses me—it feels like he wants me to himself. I could sense the desire and passion as he’d press his lips against mine.

The next thing I know, he’s throwing a fit at me. He’s treating me like trash. Hell, he practically warps me back to our childhood. Somehow, thinking this through made me doubt that he doesn’t love me… Then again, he may’ve just been playing with me—teasing me so that everything would go according to plan. Well it didn’t. I didn’t, I don’t, and I won’t ever love him. But was this, in itself, a contradiction to what may be really going on inside me?

The sudden bitterness in his voice snapped me back to reality. “Damn it! Are you even listening?” When I don’t answer, he demands, irritated, “Tell me what’s wrong!”

“You!” retorted I. Suddenly realizing how curt my answer was—and totally uncouth—I covered my mouth like I just said a God forsaken word. Noticing him twinge at my answer, I add hastily, “That’s not what I mean! Well…you’re kind of the reason why there’s something wrong with me—but that’s not the point! Well…maybe it is but”—

“Get on with it damn it!” he demanded. Then his voice got all low and soft. “I promise I won’t hurt you…”

“You already have!” I blurted out. Damn it!

Leon didn’t seem to respond, however. He just looked straight at me, his eyes boring right into mine. His steady grey eyes didn’t waver, but I could tell that he was contemplating how his response should be. “Look…I can tell…it has to do with what I said earlier…right?”

I gave a reluctant nod, temporarily forgetting that his hands were clasped onto my face. “I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have”—

“No. I’m sorry.”

“You really shouldn’t apologize, Leon… After all, it’s not your fault that you don’t love me. I shouldn’t have reacted that way when you said that it was the alcohol speaking.”

Before Leon could say anything in reply, my parents stepped into the kitchen, telling us, “Finish your breakfast and get ready, the two of you. We have to go to church.”

* * * *

The whole ride to church and back—and especially during Mass—was completely awkward. After that little episode this morning in the kitchen, I couldn’t stand to be next to Leon the whole time. By the time we got back, I rushed up the stairs, locking my bedroom door, and flopped on the bed.

It didn’t surprise me when I heard Leon knocking on my door. “What?” I asked flatly.

“I just want to talk,” he replied, slight desperateness in his voice. When I don’t respond, he adds, “Please?”

Sure. Like that’ll work. I rolled my eyes, but since I found it to be rude, I mumbled, “Why not?” before walking up to the door and unlocking it, Leon immediately bursting into my room without warning.

“Hey…” he greeted casually.

“So…” I began, “What is it you want to talk about?”

“Everything,” was his answer, and I couldn’t help but urge him to tell me everything. So he locked the door behind him; we settled on the bed, sitting next to each other with Leon ready to tell me whatever it is he wanted to talk about, and me listening closely to every truth he’d utter to me.