His Purple Heart

1 - The breakup

It was as if a heavy stone was sitting on my heart.

The ache, good Lord, the ache – like cancer. Spreading slowly. That's what heartbreak felt like. First the painful ache followed by a numb and hollow feeling.

The numbness hadn't just started five days ago if I was being honest with myself. Drake and I hadn't had sex in weeks, and long before that my orgasms had stopped. My happy spot had dried up like an old prune, and no amount of coaxing could spark it back to life.

I was officially frigid.

This was not supposed to happen. I was in my prime. I should be having mind blowing sex at least four times a week, but it's been more like once every three months. And I had to initiate every time. Like every single time.

I pulled out a stool at the kitchen bar and sat down with a steaming cup of tea in front of me. It was past dinner time, but I had no appetite. My fingers curled around the cup in a desperate attempt to stop my hands from shaking. I had never felt so betrayed or more embarrassed in my life.

"I still can't believe you cheated on me," I said, more to myself than anyone else.

Drake and I weren't exactly on speaking terms ever since I found out that he'd been cheating on me about five days ago. That's when my world had come crashing down, the pain almost unbearable.

Despite the urge telling me not to look, I glanced over at Drake sitting on the couch - his favorite spot in the small apartment we rented together - and I wanted to bash him across the head with something hard.

Just as the thought crossed my mind, he turned his head to look at me, his brown eyes filled with pity for me. There was a time when I used to look into his eyes only to see love and affection staring back at me.

But those days were over now. Gone. Adios. Now he pitied me.

"I don't know what else to say to you, Debs. Olga was there for me when you weren't." He shrugged his shoulders and went back to staring at the TV, totally engrossed in his episode of Friends.

His answer caught me by surprise. Had I spoken that loudly?

"Here for you how?" I whispered.

He tore his eyes from the TV once more, his eyebrows dipping low and slanting as if I was harassing the hell out of him.

"Sexually."

One word.

That's all it took for me to feel like I'd been sucker-punched in the gut. Five days ago when I'd asked why he cheated his answer had been different. He said it had to do with me being busy and always so focused on my art, but now I got to hear the truth. It was ugly.

"You never complained about sex." My voice came out harsher than intended, the edges dripping with unconcealed pain. Why did my throat feel like I'd had cactus for breakfast?

Drake reached over for the remote control on the coffee table and muted the tv. "I don't know, Debs. The whole you not coming thing kind of freaked me out. There was nothing I could do to make you come. Do you know what something like that does to a man's ego? I started thinking maybe you were cheating on me or that you were no longer attracted to me. I couldn't think of a logical reason why you would just stop coming after so many years."