" Are you disturbed by the news today?"
I look up from the magazine in my hand and look at him with anticipation instead of answering. Seeing him fiddling with the glass of alcohol in his hand, I know he is disturbed.
" You mean the news about you fathering the child of Miss X?" I ask casually. He nodded without a word. " Is it true?"
" ..."
I sighed lightly, letting him have the freedom to interpret it in his own way. After nearly half an hour he said nothing. I had went back to my reading but nothing registers in my mind.
" You want to hear about it?" He said matter of factly.
" Only if you are willing to tell."
" I don't."
" Ok."
He did not stay the night. And for the first time in months, I have insomnia. When I reached out for warmth, I felt instead the cool empty sheets. An instant pang of heartache crept into my heart. I can still recall the anguish I had felt when I first read that piece of awful news.
Initially I had wished it wasn't true. Denial isn't going to help anything so in the end I chose to ignore, at least till he mentioned it tonight. He had wanted to say something, what was it? In the wee hours of the morning, my mind starts to wander.
Why had he felt the need to seek temporary solace in another's arms? The feeling of inadequency hammers into my consciousness, nearly suffrocating me. I took a trip down memory lane, seeing the day when we first met. He had brusquely entered my life by pulling me along in his charade. Has the day that I am no longer of use to him arrived?
What am I saying? Why am I comparing myself to a commodity? Realization hurts, that's how he had been treating me, isn't it?
Sudden anger surged within me. The contrast of extreme heat and the cold surroundings made my teeth chatter uncontrollably. With renewed determination, I pull on my dressing gown and marched next door for an answer.
I knocked demandingly on his door, unwilling to let him go till I get an explanation. My incessant knockings disturbed the silent night but I am not in my considerate mood.
At last the door opens. I am surprised to see that he is still fully clothed but his eyes are swollen and watery. He steps aside without a word and I entered his dark, lightless world.
Leaving me standing at the entrance, he went back to his seat by the window. The air is saturated with a blanket of cigarette smoke and a near emptied bottle of shochuu sat in the streak of moonlight - the only source of light in the room.
" I lied. I want to know what drove you into Miss X's arms." I said softly suppressing the wild palpitations I am feeling within.
He did not help the situation by remaining totally silent. Anxiety and excitement made me fidget and I shift my weight from one foot to the other, ignoring the urge to take a seat next to him.
I must have stood for 10 minutes. Determination drives me but fatigue is wearing me out too. I tried to blink away the exhaustion clouding my eyes and in that short span of time, he had raised from his seat and pulled me into his arms. His hands are trembling as he stroke my back lightly with his signature feathery touches.
" Why?" I mutter tearfully into the crook of his shoulder, not really sure when I had started to weep. His protective arms embraced me tighter, demanding that I accept his comfort.
