Kirley felt like absolute shit. He was a terrible person, and he knew it. He had done a horrible thing, and now he was going to have to pay for it.
He'd ended it with Alex. Broken up with him, for lack of a better term. Kirley knew he was falling for the other man, and that couldn't happen. Alex was brilliant in bed, and he was good to talk to and spend time with outside of it, but he wasn't Melinda. In Kirley's eyes, Melinda hung the fucking moon. He loved her like he never knew was possible, and he knew what was about to happen would break her heart. He'd already broken his own just thinking about it. But he had to tell her. He had promised her honesty, and that promise had been broken. If he had any hope of forgiveness he had to tell her.
It wasn't going to be easy. He'd drank himself silly the night before after leaving Alex's flat, and then cried himself to sleep, knowing what stood ahead of him.
Standing at Melinda's door, his eyes still puffy and red, he knocked on the door. This was it.
---
The knock to her door was enough to startle Melinda awake. Bleary eyes looked over her surroundings. Most definitely not in bed. The books and cauldrons laid out over the table were enough to tell her that she'd fallen asleep at some point in the night while working on her project. She didn't even need to see the eyeliner smudges on the half-filled page of notes -- even if it was amusing. Her hands rose to her face, wiping off the fallen mascara and smudgy black that had likely gathered there before sliding off her chair. Every joint in her body groaned with disapproval after having been stuck at such weird angles for however long she'd been asleep.
Her path to the door was a slow one, her legs taking a couple meters before they felt like they could actually move properly. She attempted to smooth whatever knots had formed themselves in her hair before she pulled open the door. She could at least try to look like she hadn't slept on the table.
The sight of Kirley on the other side of the threshold brought a smile to her face. "Hey baby," she said softly, opening her door wide enough for him to walk through. It took a moment before something clicked in her mind -- something was wrong. She looked back up at him, at his face, as the veil of her interrupted sleep fell away. It was being replaced quickly with concern.
"What's wrong?"
---
The sight of her didn't even bring a smile to his face like it should. Knowing what he was about to tell her, all he felt was dread.
Running a hand through his hair for the thousandth time, mussing it up in a tangled mess, he entered her flat and stood a bit awkwardly while she shut the door. "I have to tell you something," he said, not meeting her eye.
He turned then, and went to sit on the couch. Once he was settled, then he looked up at her. "I love you. You have to know that. I never thought I would or even wanted to ever fall in love. But I fell in love with you and I love you so much."
Kirley sighed and looked down at his hands. "But I fucked up."
---
Melinda could feel her heart tumble forward in her chest as he spoke. Her stomach turned as she shut the door behind him. He was so awkward. Distant. She didn't like it. The memory of the day he'd told her he might have gotten Alicia pregnant flashed in her mind. It was the dread that weighed on his shoulders, while her own brought a feeling of nausea to her.
She followed him, walking into her living room. Though as he set on the black chesterfield, she couldn't bring herself to yet. Her hands met in front of her, the fingers of her right hand picking absently at her left thumb.
"What are you talking about?"
---
He couldn't put it off anymore. There was no easy way to do this, and he couldn't tip toe around it.
"I cheated on you," he said softly, still looking at his hands. "I met someone and I started to have feelings for him. Baby I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry and I don't have any excuses for what I did."
---
At his words, Melinda could feel everything just stop. The world had come to a sudden halt around her. Even her heart had stopped. Her face had contorted to a look of surprise and pain -- like she had just been sucker punched. Only that blow had gone straight through her.
"You... w-what?"
---
He winced when she spoke, clearly hearing the hurt and confusion in her voice. What had he done? How had he let it happen? How had Alex worked his way into Kirley's heart, and why didn't he see it sooner?
"I cheated," he repeated. He rubbed at his face and sniffed, knowing the tears would be coming soon. He wasn't going to try and stop them.
"I met a guy. It was just sex... and then it wasn't. I ended it though. It's over. But I had to tell you. I couldn't keep this from you."
---
A sick sort of feeling overtook Melinda as he was speaking. The sort of feeling that came after everything had been torn out of someone — a raw ache that echoed through the muscles and sinew that had been carelessly left behind. Pale as a ghost, hollow as a cave. She hadn’t even felt the tears as they had welled in her eyes and spilled over her cheeks. They’d stood no chance over the emptiness that consumed her.
All she could do was stand and stare. Disbelief, hurt — all of it written across her features. She couldn’t ask him to tell her that it wasn’t true, there was no voice to speak with. She could only stand there and watch the kingdom between them begin to crumble.
---
He felt like puking. Every second that Melinda didn't say anything cut him deeper and deeper. He wanted her to yell at him. To scream. To tell him he was every bit as terrible as he knew he was. He had ruined everything. Nothing between them could ever be the same again, if there was going to be anything between them at all.
Staring down at the floor, he started to cry. His shoulders shook, but he tried to stay quiet. Sobbing wasn't going to help anything.
"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. "God Mel I'm so sorry. I fucking hate myself."
---
Through her own tears, Melinda could see his. She watched as his shoulders shook with silent sobs. She wanted to reach out to him, to rest her hand on his shoulder at least. Even as she tried, she couldn’t move. Not as her mind slowly gathered the past few months in her mind, trying to make sense of what he was saying. Like clockwork snapping together everything had started to make sense — those times he had wanted to be by himself, the strange sort of look in his eyes when he’d said he’d been a terrible boyfriend. Guilt. It had all been guilt.
“Stop,” she said softly, her voice hoarse as though it hadn’t been used in a century. Her eyes closed for a moment against the spinning of the room around her. Whatever force of will or luck that had kept her standing so far was wearing away slowly as her legs began to tremble beneath her, threatening to give as it felt like the whole world was beginning to crash down on her. “Please, just…” Just what? She didn’t know. Her hands rose to her stomach as it turned like she was going to be sick.
---
Wiping at his face, Kirley nodded. After what seemed like forever he lifted his head and looked at her, his heart breaking again at what he saw. He had done this. This was his fault. He had taken something so wonderful and amazing and set it on fire. She would never trust him again, and he couldn't blame her for that. He would never trust himself.
"I'll go," he said in a cracked, strained voice as he slowly stood. "You don't have to see me again." Those words hurt coming out. The thought of her not being in his life was a horrific prospect, but he deserved it.
---
As he rose from the sofa, her eyes followed him. A helpless sort of look crossed her features. The idea of never seeing him again was terrifying, but.. she didn’t. She didn’t want to be looking at him. She felt exposed — the most painful sort of vulnerable she could have ever imagined. Like her skin had been scrubbed completely raw. Even the air around her hurt.
---
When she didn't stop him or say anything, he accepted his fate and started towards the door. Coming even with her, he stood there, tears still falling as he looked at her.
"I won't ask you to forgive me," he muttered. "Because I can even forgive myself. I just want you to know that I love you."
---
Melinda stared up at him, as he spoke. She’d always felt so small in front of him. It was a different kind of feeling now, her bare feet cold against the hardwood floor. She felt fragile. Like a little girl.
“Why?"
---
Her question was like a punch to the gut. Looking down at her, his heart ached with how far apart they were. He wanted to pull her in, to hold her close and never let go, but he didn't dare reach out.
But why? Why had he done it? Why had he ruined the best thing to ever happen to him? "I don't know," he said with a slight shrug.
---
I don’t know. The words by themselves were terrible enough. It was the shrug, though — that was what cut her deeply. The carelessness of such a simple motion. He didn’t know. Shrug.
Melinda’s arms crossed over her middle. It was the only thing she could do to manage to keep herself together, the only modicum of armor she could achieve while standing in front of the man who had torn out her insides. “Please,” she started, not really knowing where her sentence would take her. But it came out all at once, “Please leave.” She hadn’t even really registered what she had said until the echo of it sounded in the hollows of her ears.
---
His shoulders dropped at her words. He knew they were coming, but actually hearing her tell him to leave stung deeply.
"I'm so sorry," he repeated, knowing it wouldn't make a difference. Still, he had to say it. Then he moved away from her, praying it wouldn't be the last time, but knowing he wouldn't fight it if it was.
---
Melinda watched Kirley as he walked out of her flat. The closing of the door sounded like thunder, and rattled her bones. She let out a quiet sob she hadn’t even realized been stuck in her throat. Letting out that small, strangled sort of sound only served to open the floodgates. Tears began pouring down her cheeks as her body shook. It all became too much as the weight of everything pulled her down to the ground, her legs finally giving into their threat to crumble beneath her. Her knees hit the floor with a painful sort of thud, but it was a pain she couldn’t really feel. It paled in comparison to the pain that seared through her insides.
Exactly where she fell, that random spot on the floor with bruised-red knees, was where she stayed. She couldn’t move, she didn’t feel the need to. Not through the tears and the sobs that kept pouring from her small frame.
---
Somehow he made it to his suite. He didn't register if anyone was in the lift with him, or if anyone was in the suite when he opened the door. Gibson greeted him as usual, but he couldn't muster up enough willpower to give him more than a quick pat on the head.
It was over. His relationship was over. The thing that had brought him the most joy was gone, and the only person to blame for it was himself. He would never forgive himself for this. And why he had done it? Fuck if he knew.
Trudging through the suite, he went straight to his room. His bed was his target, and a few moments later, he had reached it. Shoes and all, he crawled into bed, pulling the covers up nearly over his head.
He stared at the wall, running everything over in his head, hating himself.