And THAT FINALE - Tumblr Posts

“What are you doing?”

Baji gets no response except for the shuffling of material as you neatly fold your clothes and put them into the duffel on the bed. You don’t look at him as you reach blindly for another item of clothing.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He’s more forceful this time and he sees the tremor in your hands at his tone. He sees it and it does something to the ball of emotion that he’d been swelling inside him these past few weeks. Anger and disappointment flood him. “Are you leaving?”

Your fist tightens on the shirt in your grasp. Your shoulder hunching as he crosses the room. His hands hover over your shoulder, freezing when you flinch away from his touch. “I- I don’t think I can do this anymore,” you say. Your voice is small, soft, careful. Like you’re speaking to a wild animal and you’re afraid you might spook it. “I can’t- you’re—”

Your words are interrupted by a hiccup. A broken sound that rips from you. It unravels your resolve as though you’ve pulled on the loose thread of your sanity. You’re sobbing. Your palm trembling as you attempt to cover your mouth and hide the awful sounds leaving you.

Baji is stupefied. He has no idea what is happing right now. He reaches for you only to have you scramble out of his reach. Almost tripping over your feet in your haste. His brows furrow, as he continues to advance on you and you continue to back away.

“Angel?” He questions. “Angel, what the fuck is going on?”

He’s cornered you and you recover enough to snap. To let him hook those warm, work roughened fingers into the delicate threads of your self control and tear them apart. “You fucked her!” You scream. “You fucked her!” And your hands are slamming against Baji’s chest. The echo of each thumb as you pound at the hard muscle rings in your ear.

Someone is screaming and Baji is frozen. Muscles locked as he takes every hit. As he lets you claw and slap at him. Because he hadn’t- he hadn’t anticipated this. That you would learn about his one fuck up. That it would do something like this you. Your struggling ceases and he realizes he’s reflexively wrapped his arms around you and you’d reflexively melted into the contours of him.

You must realize it as well because with a strength not even you knew you possessed you shove him. And Baji is weak limbed and distracted so that he goes sprawling into his ass at the movement. He’s gaping. Like one of the koi at the aquarium he’d taken you to on your first date. Lips parted as he stares at you dumbly. He cannot speak but his silence is enough.

Your breathing is ragged as you redouble efforts of packing. You don’t bother folding the clothes anymore. Just chucking them into the space bag, uncaring of what the item actually is.

“It was-“ he licks his lips and just the sound of his voice sets you on edge all over again. “It was a mistake.”

Your sadness and disappointment are morphing into something ugly and violent and for one insane second you consider calling your brothers. They’d kill him. They’d kill him. They’d kill hi- but you don’t want him dead. You love him. You don’t want him dead. And you’re crying all over again because you love him.

You love the lying, cheating bastard who’d married you under cherry blossoms in spring and danced in the wet sand, in the cold rain just so you could say you’d done it. You love the lying, cheating man you’d adopted a dog with. You’d bought a house with. Planned to start a family with.

“How many times?” You ask between sobs. “How many times Keisuke?”

“Once,” he admits. “It was only once. It was a mistake,” he’s rambling. Your question has opened the floodgates for excuses. “It never happens after that. I was going to tell you but she told me not to. She said-“ he pauses again and you almost scoff at him. “She said you’d hate us. So I- I kept it and it- please don’t leave me.”

He sounds as broken as you. You can’t even look at him. You can’t even look at him. “She’s pregnant,” you announce. “Eight months. The timing’s about right. Yeah?”

Baji makes a choked noise. Like he’s drowning on air. “No!” He protests. “It’s not mine. It can’t- it can’t be-“

“It’s yourself alright,” you sniffle. “Said she hadn’t been with any other man since that night.”

“She’s lying-“

“You’re both lying pieces of shit,” you say, and you zip the duffle, reaching for your handbag on a nearby chair you shuffle around the room grabbing your jewelry and then into the adjoining bathroom to grab your toiletries. Baji remains on the floor is head in his hands.

“Please,” he says. And he sound rightfully broken. “Please don’t leave- we can- we can talk about this.”

There’s nothing to talk about. You grab the duffel and head for the door. You stop in the frame and glance at him over your shoulder. “I hope she gives you those twins you’ve always wanted.”