Arsen: a broken love story - Asher Mia (читать книги онлайн бесплатно серию книг .txt) 📗

It’s not like I care.

Arsen stares at his hands and replies softly, “It was fun while it lasted.”

At a loss for words, I get the feeling that something is bothering him, and I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all. I’m about to take his hand in mine when his phone rings.

“Would you mind if I get this?” he asks politely.

“No, go ahead. I’ll look at the menu in the meantime.”

I open the menu and begin to go over the specials, trying to give him as much privacy as possible. I don’t want him to think that I’m eavesdropping, but that proves to be near impossible when he’s sitting no more than three feet away from me.

“What’s up, baby? I’m at the diner with Dimp-Catherine,” he corrects himself.

He waits for a moment, listening to the other person speak.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I completely forgot. Raincheck?”

“Okay…I promise. I’ll make it up to you. Anyway, gorgeous, I gotta go. My food just got here. Ciao.”

After he hangs up, Arsen throws his phone carelessly on the table and stares at me.

“Sorry about that, Dimples. I guess I was supposed to meet someone for lunch and completely forgot about it.”

“You could still go meet her, you know? I won’t mind…” And I truly won’t. I feel guilty because he’s here with me and not with his date.

Lightly rapping his fingers on the table, Arsen randomly changes the subject. “Do you like listening to Muse, Awolnation?”Taken aback by the abrupt change in topics, I ask him to repeat his question.

“Oh, yes. I love them both. Awolnation’s last album is amazing though. Some of my favorite songs are Wake Up, and Burn It Down.”

“I think Madness by Muse is fucking genius. I’ve seen them live a couple times, and they are fucking brilliant,” he says, smiling at me and running a hand through his hair.

“You always do that.”

“What?”

“Run a hand through your hair. Is it a bad habit, or do you just like touching your hair?” I tease him.

He laughs. “So you’ve noticed? It’s a bad habit of mine. I’ve tried stopping, but I think I just like getting my hair pulled too much. Especially in the bedroom, ya know?”

“Well, no. I didn’t know, and I don’t think I needed to know.”

“You never know, Dimples…one day that information may come handy to you,” he taunts.

“Ha, ha…as if. You forget, I’m happily married.”

“Too happily married for some wild fucking with a hot stud like me? You know, I’ve been called God in the bedroom more than a few times,” he jokes, his eyes gleaming devilishly.

I smile. “Modest much? By the way, I can’t believe you just called yourself a hot stud. I’m pretty sure that negates how good looking you are.”

Arsen grins, making his eyes crinkle. “What? Didn’t you know? I’m too hot for my body.”

“Are you ever serious or modest?” I say with laughter in my voice.

“Nah. Modesty and I don’t get along, baby. I tell it how it is.”

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

Laughing, we both stare at each other, then slowly become silent. The silence makes me uncomfortable, so I look at the time on my watch. Arsen looks at his phone one more time. I feel like I need to break the silence.

“Should we order?”

Arsen nods and calls the waitress over. After she leaves with our orders, Arsen turns to look at me.

“Okay, I have an idea. While we wait for our food to arrive, let’s play a game.”

“Um, I’m not sure. The look on your face is making me uncomfortable.”

“Come on! It’ll be fun, and since you’re stuck working with me, it will helps us get know each other better.”

“Okay, fine. Tell me. I’m not promising anything, though.”

With a smug smile on his face, like he just won the Nobel Prize, he says, “Why don’t we reveal three things about ourselves to each other?”

Not seeing any harm in it, I agree to play his little game. Besides, I’m curious about him.

“Okay, you start. I need to see what kind of secrets you’re willing to divulge first.”

“I have a butterfly tattoo on my chest,” Arsen says.

“I’ve seen it! I’ve meant to ask you about it for the longest time.”

Arsen nods, smiling shyly. “When I was seventeen my friends and I went to Cancun for spring break. Needless to say, we ended up at a strip club where we got so fucked up. By the end of the night, I thought I was in love with a stripper named Butterfly, so as soon as the place closed down,” he pauses, grinning, “she came with me to get this tattoo. And in my drunken state, I guess I wanted it tattooed over my heart.” His eyes sparkle with mirth.

“Why don’t you have it removed?” I ask.

“Nah. It’s part of me. Besides, Butterfly showed me some very good times,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Well, I’m glad. Okay. My turn.” I blush because it’s quite embarrassing. “I don’t really know how to ride a bicycle.”

“What? No way!” He seems truly surprised.

“Yes, I never really learned. Ben tried teaching me a couple times, but I never got the gist of it,” I say, remembering Julian’s weekend party.

“You don’t have to blush like that if you don’t know how to ride a bicycle.” He grins crookedly before continuing, “I feel bad for your man, though.”

I reach and smack him on the shoulder. “Hey!”

Arsen raises his hands in surrender as he laughs. “Hey! You left that one wide open. But I’m sorry. No more teasing, I promise.” He lowers his hands and takes a sip of water, “Ready for my second revelation?”

“Sure.”

I notice some color growing on the crests of his cheeks, which accentuates his aqua blue eyes.

“I wanted to have my own band when I grew up, but I fucking suck. It’s embarrassing.”

“No, I don’t think it’s embarrassing. It’s great! Why don’t you give it a try?”

“Maybe…nah. It’s just something I would’ve liked to do.” Obviously uncomfortable talking about himself, he changes the subject. “Your turn.”

For a moment, I stare at him blushing and decide to tell him my deepest secrets. I don’t know what makes me want to do it, but I do.

There’s an easiness about him that makes me want to trust him.

“Um, I have two. I’m pregnant. But don’t. Don’t congratulate me yet.”

A shadow crosses his eyes, but it’s gone before I have a chance to ask him about it.

“Go ahead. I’m listening,” he encourages me.

Surprised at his willingness to listen, I can’t help but remember the last time I tried speaking to Ben about it a long time ago and how different his reaction was. It’s like they are night and day.

Reclining against a tree with Ben’s arms wrapped around me, and the smell of late autumn in our local park surrounding us, I feel such yearning as I watch children chasing geese and playing with fallen leaves. They’re so beautiful to admire, yet it hurts to even listen to them laugh. I wonder if I’ll ever get used to being around them without having to fight the emptiness I carry to take over me completely.

I hope so. I really do.

Ben always tells me that happiness is what you make of your life, but I wonder what happens when your heart’s desire keeps being taken away from you over and over again?

Truly. What happens then?

I’m still trying to figure it out.

I admire the lovely children playing and think back to the beginning of the end, to that day when some vital part of me decided it was too much to keep hoping and dreaming. It was the day that hope kept slipping through my fingers no matter how hard I tried to hold it within my hands.

Not wanting to think about it anymore, I turn to look at Ben and see that his eyes are closed while his eternal cocky smirk plays around his lips. I love that grin. It’s as if he knows the answers to something you want to know really bad, but he won’t tell you just because. And it also happens to remind me of happier days.