52. It Doesn't Make Sense

Cristianno received a letter from Rain and he spends the entire day trying to figure out what she really means. Meanwhile, the rogue Davina sleeps in his room, on the floor, by choice.
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            A fist went flying into a crate, barely denting the wood as he pulled his arm back, preparing for another swing. The storage room under a local business in Booty Bay was usually left alone and he knew at what time the goblins went for inventory, so it was the perfect location for an enraged elf.

            He growled loudly as he swung his arm again, his knuckles hitting the crate hard, causing a few splinters to fly off the boards. “Broke your trust…ha!” He swung once more, punching harder. “How the fuck did I break your trust?” He punched again, leaving a small red mark on the tan crate. His auburn hair was loose and over his shoulders, flowing upward in the momentum of each punch. The letter he had received was lying on top of the crate, bouncing slightly each time it moved. Cris stopped and leaned against the crates, his eyes resting against his arm. Reaching for the letter, he looked up and read it once again. He had almost memorized what she had told him, but he had to see it to believe every word she had said.

            I love you more.

            “How? How is that bloody possible? Tell me how that’s possible when you’re with him!” He stepped back and punched the crate again. “Nevermind that I was faithful and loyal. Nevermind that I gave you my world. Oh, no. That wasn’t enough for you!” He punched the crate several more times, the red smears getting bigger. He stopped and gasped for air. Upon looking at his knuckles, he saw the splinters and raw flesh, along with the blood on his skin.

            My trust in you was shattered the day you walked away from me; the day you couldn’t accept me for who I was.

            He laughed and shook his head, his long hair wrapping around his torso with each turn. “I’m sorry I couldn’t accept you for loving another man.” He laughed again and kicked the second crate. “I’m sorry I was raised to love one and only one.” He round kicked the crate, this time pushing it into the wall. The items within fell all over the floor as the crate shattered. “No! That wasn’t enough for you!”

            He grabbed the letter that had now fallen onto the floor and gazed at it once again, shaking his head, trembling with frustration and anger. It didn’t make sense to him. For all the times they had spent together and loved each other, she was able to easily give her love away to another?

            Cris had already responded to her letter. He wanted to say all the things the crates in the private room had heard, but instead, he opted for:

                        I know what heartache and broken trust is. My trust for you was shattered when you loved another man. I will forever love you and I will continue to speak to you as you wish, but unlike some so-called men, I do not interfere in relationships. I respect people. I respect you.

            As soon as he had mailed the letter, he kicked the mailbox so much in an attempt to get the letter back, that the bruisers had threatened to remove him from the town. That’s when he went to the hidden warehouse, removed his shirt, and began to punch crates.

            “He calls himself a man. He’s a fucking coward!” As he paced around the room, he recalled the rogue’s face, the smirk he held, and the way he knew he had won her over. “What kind of man destroys a relationship? He’s not a man!” He roared in anger and swung his arm, punching another crate. “There’s a thing called respect, motherfucker! A real man respects!” He attacked the crate, punching and kicking it until it shattered, once more spilling more content onto the ground. He laughed, his auburn hair falling onto his face when he saw his bloody knuckles and the crates’ splinter all over his hands and pants. “Fuck.” Looking at the mess left behind, he took a deep breath and walked out, up the platforms, and out in the open, where the he saw the sea and the evening’s sun preparing to set.

            He squeezed the letter once more. “I don’t get it. Where did I go wrong? How can I possibly accept her loving another man when I …” He chuckled and sighed, grabbing a hold of his neck, touching the scar around his skin. For a brief moment, he recalled Kahlen’s fury when she found out about his infidelity. “…When I myself died for not being faithful?”

She had already moved on. She was just like Kahlen…just like Rosaelynn. She was just like all the women in his life; always ready to jump to the next boat and forget the past. Cris gazed at the sea for a moment before heading upstairs to his room. His guest, Davina, was still asleep on the floor, her head resting against the corner of the room.

            Cris washed himself up and grumbled at the splinters embedded in his hands. He would deal with them later. As he walked out of the flat, he simply stood on the wooden platform, watching the sun cast its golden light upon the sea. The letter was still in his hand. She was still in his heart. The confusion was still in his mind.

            And all he really wanted was to be able to love once more. That was becoming an overwhelming feat each passing day. Staring at the sea, he took a deep breath.

“I just don’t understand you anymore…”