Forbidden Cravings
Chapter 41: My Dull Mood

Chapter 41: My Dull Mood

The train ran along at 10 p.m., the late evening sky a blur of dark blues and city lights streaking past the window.

I slouched in my seat, headphones snug over my ears, slow music humming soft—some mellow track with a lazy beat, the kind that matched the heaviness in my chest.

My eyes drifted over the scenery—neon signs flickering in the distance, shadowy buildings sliding by. I let out a long *sighhhh*, my breath fogging the glass for a sec, and glanced down at the cheque crumpled in my hand, the ink smudged from my sweaty grip.

My mind wouldn’t quit—replaying the shitshow that went down at the brothel, Sara’s smirk, her voice, the weight of her threats still choking me.

Earlier, when I’d stumbled out of that cramped room, my t-shirt wrinkled, I’d run into Jonathan in the cellar. He was leaning against the bar, a cigarette dangling from his lips, his sharp suit looking a little rumpled as he counted cash from the night.

He glanced up as I shuffled over, my boots scuffing the sticky floor, and handed me the cheque—thick paper, Sara’s payment scribbled in his messy handwriting.

"Is everything okay, buddy?" he asked, his voice low, his brow creasing as he studied me, the smoke curling up around his face.

I caught myself then—my shoulders slumped, my face probably dull as hell, eyes shadowed with the mess in my head. I straightened up quick, forcing a smile, my lips tugging up tight.

"Yeah, yeah, all good," I said, nodding a little too fast, brushing it off like it was nothing. My voice sounded fake even to me, but I held the grin, shoving the cheque into my pocket like that’d hide the chaos.

"That’s how it should be," he said, clapping both hands on my shoulders, his grip firm, grounding. "I don’t want to see my man frowning over anything—got it?" He gave me a quick shake, his grin flashing, all easy confidence, the cigarette bobbing as he talked. "You’re my best guy—keep that chin up."

I nodded, my smile faltering a bit, my mind already drifting back to her. "By the way..." I said, hesitating, my hands shoving deeper into my pockets as I shifted my weight. "That woman I was with..." I trailed off, fishing, my voice casual but my gut tight.

"Yeah, your acquaintance," he said, tossing it out like it was no big deal, flicking ash onto the floor as he leaned back against the bar, his eyes narrowing slightly with curiosity.

"Nah, not an acquaintance," I corrected quick, shaking my head. "I just... happen to know her, yeah, so..." I shrugged, playing it off, my voice dropping. "Does she come here often? Or, like, ever before I joined up?" I asked, my curiosity slipping out raw, my eyes flicking up to catch his reaction.

Jonathan tilted his head back, his gaze drifting to the ceiling as he thought, his cigarette glowing faint in the dim light.

"Ummm..." he hummed, scratching his jaw with his free hand, the stubble rasping under his fingers. "Nope—this is the first time I’ve seen her," he said finally, shrugging loose, his eyes sliding back to mine. "New face, far as I know."

"Ohh, I see..." I said, nodding slow, my voice flat as I processed it. *First time?* That didn’t add up—Sara, bold as hell, walking in like she owned the place. Was it just for me? To fuck with me? My stomach twisted tighter, but I kept my face blank.

"Why? Everything okay?" Jonathan asked, his brow creasing again, his tone sharpening a bit as he straightened up, tossing the cigarette butt into an ashtray with a flick.

"Nah, nah, just wanted to confirm, that’s all," I said quick, waving a hand like it was nothing, forcing that smile back as I stepped away. "No big deal." I turned then, my boots thudding heavy on the floor as I headed for the exit.

Jonathan’s eyes lingering on my back as I pushed through the brothel’s heavy doors into the night.

Back on the train, I slumped deeper into the seat, the music looping slow in my ears. My mind wouldn’t stop—Sara’s laugh, her phone, Aeri’s face if she ever knew. I rubbed my eyes hard, the scenery blurring past, the weight of it all pressing down as the train carried me home, deeper into the hole I couldn’t climb out of.

The train ride had left me drained, and by the time I got home, the clock was creeping past 11:00 p.m. I fumbled with my keys, the metal clinking loud in the still night as I shoved them into the lock and pushed the door open.

"I’m home," I said, my voice flat, barely carrying as I dropped my bag by the door.

"Ohho, someone’s home early today—welcome home, Ezra," Aeri called from the kitchen, her tone light, teasing, a faint clatter of pots punctuating her words.

She sounded brighter, her quiet mood from last night lifted, her voice bouncing off the walls as she moved around in there. I could hear water running, the soft sizzle of something on the stove—probably dinner, knowing her. But me? I wasn’t in any kind of mood, good or otherwise.

My head was still a mess, Sara’s laugh echoing in my skull, the weight of it all dragging me down like wet cement.

"Get freshened up—let’s eat together," she said, her face popping around the corner of the kitchen doorway as I trudged past, my bag slung over one shoulder, my free hand brushing the wall for balance. "I haven’t had dinner yet—kept it warm for you." Her dark hair was tied back loose, a few strands slipping free.

"Hmmm..." I mumbled, my voice a low hum, barely a response as I kept walking toward the bathroom, my boots scuffing the floor.

Aeri paused, her smile faltering as she watched me go, her hands resting on the counter, a wooden spoon still dripping sauce in her grip.

"Huh," she said under her breath, her brow creasing faintly as she tilted her head, wondering where the hell my energy had gone.

Usually, I’d toss back something snappy—crack a joke, ask what she was cooking, maybe nudge her playfully as I passed.

Not tonight. She tapped the spoon against the pot, the clink sharp in the quiet, and leaned out further.

"Would you like coffee or juice?" she asked, her voice lifting a bit, trying to pull me out of whatever thing I was in.

"Hmm..." I said again, the sound automatic, flat, not even registering her words as I pushed the bathroom door open, the bag slipping off my shoulder to thud on the tile.

Aeri sighed soft, the sound barely reaching me as she turned back to the stove, her shoulders slumping a little.

"Did something happen at the office?" she muttered to herself, her voice low, more a thought than a question. She glanced over her shoulder one more time, her dark eyes lingering on the empty hallway where I’d disappeared, a flicker of worry creasing her face.

The kitchen hummed with the faint bubble of the pot, the warm light spilling out, but I was already gone—shutting the bathroom door behind me.