Red Wine

I pulled to the side of the damp road, up against the curb. The rain was still falling but with less intensity at this point. I opened my car door, grabbed the brown paper bag full of CDs and closed the door with my butt. The rain caused dark brown circles to appear on the bag, weakening the fabric. I ran the few yards towards the revolving door and into the building. It was quiet, nothing but the faint sound of elevator music coming from the front desk. The lobby smelled of dryer sheets because of the nearby laundry room. "Hello, Ms. Kelly," the door man says to me. His voice seems as if he said it underwater; very heavy and deep. I guess I'm zoning out because it takes me a few minutes to realize I must respond, "how are you, Frank?" "I'm fine, thank you, Ms. Kelly," he responds with a smile. I continue through the cleared lobby towards the elevator. I press the "up" button and wait for the car to arrive. I look down at the bag, noticing a tear in the bottom. 'I better hurry before the bag rips completely,' I think. The door opens with a happy ring of a bell, and I step inside. The entire inside of the elevator is covered in mirrors, so I examine myself in the door. My long, black coat is covered in drops of water, beginning to dry in the heat of the building. My short, blonde hair is downtrodden from the rain as well. I forget that I'm wearing skinny jeans and black boots with a large heel. I think to myself that I might look good if it weren't for what I'm about to face. Before getting too upset, I think about how my water-proof mascara must work because it hasn't moved for hours even through the rain. My makeup is done up nicely, preparing me for what I'm headed into. If I'm going to be an emotional wreck, I might as well look good physically. The elevator dings again as I reach the eleventh level. I exit, stepping onto the carpeted floor walking towards his door. Number 1109. I stop in front of his door and take a deep breath, letting my lungs fill one last time with calm, welcoming air. I raise my right hand, covered by my black, leather glove, while balancing the paper bag in my left arm and knock on the wooden door. The few seconds of silence and anticipation could've killed me. Then, the door opens taking my breath away with it. "Kelly?" And before I was ready to fully prepare myself, there he is. Daren. The one who changed everything. "Hello, Daren, may I come in?" I try to stop my voice from shaking to sway his thoughts from the possibility that I'm nervous. "Sure," I can tell I've caught him off guard, but it was the only choice. I walk into his very fancy, five-star apartment. "You look... great," he adds as he shuts the door behind him. Although he's probably not happy with my surprise appearance, I know he's sincere when he comments about how I look. "Thank you," I say as I look into his eyes, mesmerized by him once again. "Anyway," I continue, "I have your CDs to return to you." I can see the distress shoot into his eyes as I say this, "why?" he replies. "I've already burned everything else, I figured I should spare the CDs and return them to you, since you said they were all your favorites." He's upset now, but I have to stop myself from caring. "Well... thanks, I guess," he says with a quiver in his voice. I turn to leave, never see him or his CDs again, when his warm voice stops me. "Wait," he cries, "Kelly... at least stay for a drink." The naive person that I am accepts his offer, and waltzes over to the suede couch. Sitting on it sparks the memory of the time we made love on this couch the night he gt his promotion. I jump up immediately, not wanting to ever think of that again. 'I shouldn't be here anymore,' I think. But before I can sneak away, Daren's turning the corner with wine. "Red. My favorite," I manage to choke out. "I know, I remembered." He hands me the expensive china and we sit, staring out the large window to the skyline of the beautiful city. "You really do look amazing," he whispers. I blush, "thank you, Daren." We sit in silence for another few minutes before he pulls my chin up and kisses me. 'What just happened?' I can barely think before I pull him back in for another. And another. And another. Then we're taking clothes off and moving to the bedroom. The bedroom where we used to make love so often. Before I know it, it's happening again. And then it's over. And I'm back to where I was before, but worse.

It's the wee hours of the morning now, still dark out, but won't be for long. I get up quietly, trying hard not to wake him up. I put my clothes back on, sliding them on so gently like they'll explode if I touch them the wrong way. I tip-toe out of his bedroom, living room, then apartment and toward the elevator. I stand in front of the metal door, awaiting for it to open. Even through all the rain, wine, and sex, I left his apartment smelling like every CD he ever lent me.