XIX. REALITY HITS.

2019.

Sometimes Art likes to wonder what would've happened if he never met Carmen. Misery. He thinks to himself, his mind going back to the first memory — the first encounter they had. Mark Rebellat Tennis Academy, 2004. Carmen wasn't attending the school since it was merely an academy for boys but her father did fund the new auditorium and with that, they gave them a tour of the school and it is where she crossed paths with Art.

The absolute power that bled from her when she entered a room. Carmen eventually locked eyes with him at a celebratory party and refused to let him out of her sight ever since. She had her perfectly acrylic nails wrapped around his heart, and mind keeping it close. Her voice, and her smile, all had him captivated. However, Art still didn't mind it whatsoever — not even when she walked up to him and said, "Hi, I'm Carmen."

No matter how hard he tried to fight it — the hold she had never left.

And so his tousled dusty blond hair, which looked like hands repeatedly ran through it, was the first thing the morning sun saw, the gassy molecule making its way inside the spacious suite. Both bodies after hours of dwelling in their tiring activity were closely swallowed by soft white plush blankets, which only hung loosely onto their bare bodies. Legs tangled amongst each other, it felt perfect all too perfect — like they'd just spent the entire day basking in the euphoric afterlife of their honeymoon. Sadly that wasn't the case.

Sitting upright, Art simply stared at the ceiling for a while, his bright blue eyes blending in with the blank cream walls. With a finger, he trails it down to the curve of her hips before stopping there. Sadly there were no marks in remembrance of what they'd done earlier. Purposefully done so there are no questions.

The sun reflected on her skin and god how she appeared almost like an angel. She looked so pretty. Beautiful even. The bronzy undertone of her skin appeared even more prominent underneath natural lighting. Ethereal.

Carmen began to stir in her sleep as the sunlight was making it even harder to do so. Plus a certain someone was looking down at her with a smile on his face. She eventually opened her eyes to face what she hadn't expected to see. Art. The sharpness of her cheekbones only pressed against the pillow, her lips stretching into an even wider smile when looking at him, "Morning."

"Morning." He greets staring into her eyes, planting a soft kiss on her forehead which she accepts. "How'd you sleep?"

Pushing herself to lay on her side, Carmen quietly laughs, "What you should be asking is did we even sleep at all."

"If only it could always be like this." Breathes out Carmen, her right leg draping over his hips, as she brought herself closer. He shrugged, but this time only smirked.

As they lay there, Carmen couldn't help but realize how apparent his features grew in the sunlight, she'd never say it out loud but Art did often remind her of a baby mouse. She won't ever deny that he's pretty, always has been from the moment she saw him underneath those artificial party lights. "I guess I could say we hardly had any."

Glancing at the nearby clock on the wall, Carmen's eyes visibly widen.

"Shit, I'm late." Pushing herself away from Art, she brings herself to the edge of her bed, reaching over to grab a silky indigo robe that resided on a hanger. Slipping it on, she immediately gets up and walks through her room, moving the curtains to reveal even more sunlight. Once she did that, she moved into the kitchen pressed her coffee machine on (she used it more so for tea), and went into the bathroom.

"Late for —"

"Since I'm now a coach, I have to go to meetings." She answers in an obvious tone, turning her head before spitting out toothpaste. "And with that means I'm late."

Art could only sigh, standing up from bed and proceeding to look for his clothes, "You're moving forward with this? With Patrick I mean. It's great that you're a coach though."

Moving from the bathroom, Carmen looked at him with a stare of disbelief. "Art, you're the last person I expect to be so mad about this. What me and Patrick have is business — the same with you and Tashi. You don't see my panties in a bunch because Tashi's your coach. Speaking of Tashi you should go now before wifey starts to wonder where you'd disappear off to."

Art only huffed, grabbing his shoes from beside her bed. Swiftly slipping on some pants, he gave himself some time to think about what else he wanted to say, "So, last night meant nothing."

"It meant a lot actually, amazing even — but I can't keep on with this back and forth Art. Just because you're separated doesn't change the fact that legally you're still married. I'm not a homewrecker."

"She's the one who decided to leave me —"

Carmen leaned against her closet door slowly finding the idea of breathing hard, chest heaving as she wanted to end this conversation. Moisturizing her lips, she looks at him with the tilt of her head, "I think you should leave Art."

She couldn't do it. She did not want to fight. The feeling of bliss immediately died down and it left Carmen realizing what she'd just done. What they'd just done. Sleeping with a married man. Married.

His brows furrowed deeply, his head shook out of disbelief at what he just heard. "Carmen —"

"Art. Leave. I told you to prove it didn't I — and you did but still that's not enough. I refuse to be somebody you need when your wife breaks your little heart got it? So leave. I'm sure she's expecting you."

authors note
I hope y'all don't hate me too much. We all can't get our happy ending just yet.