Operation Resolution

by Sky Corgan

  Of course, it wasn’t her, just like I knew it wouldn’t be. It was my mom, the last person on God’s green Earth I felt like talking to at the moment. There was always the option of not answering, but Mom wasn’t the type to give up easily. She wouldn’t just call once. She would call repeatedly until I picked up the phone, and when I did, she would make me feel like a prick for not answering sooner.

  My mom hadn’t had a job in her life, not one, so she had made getting what she wanted a full-time thing. She was relentless, and I knew enough not to try to resist that fact.

  I sighed heavily, grimaced, and put the phone up to my ear. “Hey, Mom.”

  “Hey yourself,” she snapped, her voice raw and ragged, never a good sign. “What took you so long, for God’s sake?”

  “I was in the other room working on some stuff.”

  “Working on ‘stuff’? You can’t even try to make it sound important, can you? Jesus, Matt, what’s the matter with you?”

  “Nothing, Mom. Sorry. What can I do for you?”

  “Well, you don’t have to make it sound like it’s a business call. Are you trying to make me feel bad? Do you just want me to feel unwanted by you?”

  “Of course, I don’t. Not at all. I’m just tired, okay? I haven’t been sleeping. What’s up, Mom? You sound upset.”

  “Well, of course, I’m upset. You would be too if you’d had to put up with your father for all of these years!”

  This is the kind of comment that left me with no idea of what to say next.

  The conversation about Dad wasn’t a new one, and it wasn’t a short one, either. We’d been having this same talk for a fucking lifetime, and it never seemed to find its end. My mother and father weren’t together. They had gotten divorced when I was still young, and although it had gutted me, there had been a part of me that was happy about it, too.

  Even that young, I could see they were truly terrible for each other, like fire and gasoline. The only real memories I currently had of them being together involved them yelling the foulest things a man and woman could come up with. And it didn’t stop with the yelling matches, either. There were slammed doors, demolished Porsches, and more than one visit from sheepish-looking cops sent to warn my parents that at some point, they were going to have to start behaving themselves or there would be real consequences. In my seven-year-old mind, I’d believed that divorce would put an end to all of that. Instead, it had opened up twenty-something years of this sort of shit.

  Dad had moved on with his life a couple of times over, now married to wife number three. Mom, though? She’d hung on with grim determination, calling me to bitch about a man she’s spent more time divorced from than married to at this point in her life. I was so tired, way too fucking tired to deal with round four hundred and eighty-five of this shit, but she was going to talk whether I wanted her to or not.

  “Do you know he’s still doing it? He’s still doing it!”

  “Doing what, Mom? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Of course you do! The womanizing! The messing around! He’s sixty-years old, and he’s still galavanting around town with women who we all know are not his wife.”

  “Yeah, I knew that. Sucks for Maddison, I guess.”

  “Don’t do that, Matty. Don’t you dare.”

  “Don’t do what, Mom? You’re kind of hard to follow this morning.”

  “Don’t you say her name to me. You know I don’t want to hear it. And don’t condescend to me, either. I swear to God, I don’t know why I bother talking to you about this sort of thing at all, why I even bother calling. Would you like to know something? Would you like to know what I consider to be the real, unfortunate truth?”

  “Honestly? When you put it that way, no, I don’t. Maybe we just shouldn’t be talking right now. You sound particularly upset, and like I told you, I haven’t gotten any sleep in days.”

  “Don’t try and push me aside. You need to hear this, Matty. I really think you do. The shameful truth is, there’s too much of your father in you.”

  When people hang up on people in the movies, it’s always a dramatic thing, angry music to accompany the act of defiance. For me, there was none of that. I hung up on my mom without really being aware that I was doing it, just to get away from the sound of her voice. There would be hell to pay for it later, and I knew it. Right now, I didn’t give a shit.

  I’d already heard the whispers in the gossip columns about the rather twisted similarities between my old man and me. It wasn’t something I liked, and it wasn’t who I wanted to be moving forward.

  When the phone rang again, I glanced down at it, sure that it would be my mom. The name that popped up was one I hadn’t seen since before my decision to clean up my act and get my shit together. Everything inside of me screamed not to pick up, just to dunk the fucking phone in a pool and be done with it. I had no idea why I answered.

  “Hey. I gotta say, I never expected to hear from you again,” I said into the receiver.

  “Hey, Matty. We need to talk. I’m pregnant.”

  “Oh.”

  “You’re going to have to come up with a better answer than that, my friend. I’m pregnant, and the baby is most definitely yours.”

  For the second time in about thirty seconds, I hung up the phone. This time, I didn’t give myself a chance to pick it back up again. Leaving it on the table where it couldn’t hurt anyone, at least for a while, I grabbed my keys and hauled ass away from my house. There was only one place that made me feel better when the shit started to really hit the fan, and I couldn’t think of a better place to go at a time like this.

  The last person I expected to see there was Bella.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  BELLA

  The museum was the place I went to feel sane again. Something about all of that art, born from the minds of countless people over more years than I could adequately wrap my brain around, made me feel centered. There was a certain amount of comfort to be found in how little I really mattered in the grand scheme of things. It was an idea that undoubtedly made many people afraid, the contemplation of their own relative insignificance, but not me. I liked it.

  On this rainy afternoon, an afternoon when I felt I needed the soothing effects of the museum more than ever, it wasn't working. I breathed in deeply and caught phantom whiffs of Matt's cologne, spicy and terribly enticing, even though it wasn't really there. I shut my eyes and saw his face, saw the way he had looked up at me while giving me the most intense orgasm of my life. His eyes were burned into my brain, and they called to me like a siren's song. Nothing seemed to be working to get him out of my head, probably because getting him out was the thing I most wanted in the world, at least at that moment.

  I was so consumed by the space Matt currently occupied in my mind that when I opened my eyes, I was convinced that who I saw standing in the quiet room's doorway was some kind of mirage. “You’re not real.”

  “What a strange thing to say to somebody.”

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Also not the kindest greeting I’ve ever gotten, but I guess it’s better than not existing. Last time I checked, this was a public place open to anyone who has the ten bucks entry fee.”

  The more he talked, the more flustered I got. Pissed off, too. He knew what I meant. He knew I was surprised, and as far as I was concerned, I had every right to be. There were plenty of places in the city, and out of all of them, Matt had walked into the one I liked to think of as my own. All I had wanted to do was get some time to myself and maybe figure out a way to clear my head some, and here he was, making it more impossible to do that than it already had been.

  He looked tired, but there was something else there, too. I couldn’t put my finger on it, had never been good at being able to read that kind of a thing in a guy, but it seemed to me like some kind of a challenge.

  Suddenly, I was furious. I kept thinking about the way he had gotten up and left me, just left me shaking in that alley w
ithout looking back.

  “You know what?” I said in a harsh whisper, the fact that we were in a museum the only thing keeping me from shouting in his face. “You can have it. This place doesn’t seem so great now.”

  I sprang to my feet so quickly it made me momentarily dizzy. It was a good thing that the benches in the place were bolted down because the abruptness of my motion would almost certainly have sent the thing crashing had it not been. I gave him one last look, one I desperately hoped could be described as withering, and started my retreat. In all my mishaps with men, I had never before used the tone I had just used with Matt, and my heart was beating crazily, so much so that I was almost afraid that something was wrong. To make matters worse, my eyes were welling with tears. I couldn’t turn back towards him now if I wanted to which, of course, I didn’t, I reminded myself angrily. I wasn’t supposed to care about him at all--didn’t care about him at all.

  “Bella! Where are you going?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I called over my shoulder, hoping my voice didn’t sound as shaky as it felt. “It’s not like there’s any point of sticking around. You don’t have a clue what to do with me. I don’t need to waste my time on somebody who’s too afraid to seal the deal.”

  On the verge of panic now, I blundered forward, no idea where I was going. I only knew that I needed to get away from Matt and all of the paintings that had lost their luster and now seemed to be mocking me mercilessly. The problem was, my blurred vision made it hard to navigate. When Matt caught up to me and grabbed me from behind in a bear hug, I let out a shocked gasp.

  “Is that what you think?” he hissed, enough emotion in his voice to make me surprised. “That I don’t know what to do with you?”

  “Well, what the hell should I think?”

  “Fine. If that’s the way you want it, come on then.”

  “No way! I’m not going anywhere with you. I told you, I don’t want to—”

  “Waste your time. I got it. Don’t worry, sugar, you’ll get your money’s worth this time.” He took me by the arm, and although I kept up my show of being widely opposed to whatever he was leading me to, truth be told, I was so excited I could hardly breathe. His hold on my arm was firm, firm enough that it would probably have been difficult for me to get free. It didn’t matter. I didn’t want to get free.

  Matt led me purposefully through the museum, his knowledge of the place more extensive than even my devoted own, and I could feel his pulse beating against my skin. When we arrived at a set of bathrooms, he marched me into the one in the middle with the word “family” emblazoned across its door.

  “What do you think you’re doing?!”

  “What you wanted,” he said in an oddly calm voice, his previous emotion evaporating as quickly as it had arrived. “This is what you wanted, right?”

  “A trip to the bathroom with you?” I scoffed, trying desperately to keep hold of whatever leg up I had. “No, I don’t think so. I’m going. There’s nothing—”

  I never finished the sentence. Before I could even figure out what it was that I wanted to say, Matt’s hand was locking the bathroom door, his other arm darting towards me and drawing me in close. He held me so that our faces were only inches apart, so close that I couldn’t tell which breath belonged to him and which belonged to me.

  “Matt, I don’t—”

  “No. No more, Bella. I’m done listening to you. I told you. I’m going to give you what you want. I’m going to give it to you right here, right now.”

  Before I had time to open my big mouth and say something sarcastic, he kissed me, the kind of kiss that made me feel like all of the strength had gone out of my knees. His tongue moved past my confused lips easily, and his taste filled me to the brim. It was a kiss that made time standstill, and I immediately forgot where I was and what I was doing there. There was nothing in the world beside him and me and the feeling of his hands moving up my white tee shirt insistently.

  “Matt.”

  “Turn around.”

  “I don’t know about this. We’re in a public place. Is this the place for this?”

  “We’ve always been in a public place. We weren’t out of the way of prying eyes in that alleyway, sugar. If you want this, turn around so I can give it to you. Or maybe you didn’t really want it, after all.”

  I spun around, the growl in his voice making my blood run hotter than ever. I was still pissed at him for confusing me over and over again, and I could tell that he was pissed at me, too. I’d never been the type to look for angry sex, but with Matt’s hands pulling my jeans down roughly, I could more than understand what all the hype was about.

  I bit my lip, unable to keep from uttering a moan of pleasure when his fingers tore my thong aside and inserted inside of me. I reached behind me, searching blindly for the buckle of his belt, and he swatted my hand away dismissively.

  “No, ma’am. I’m calling the shots here. Do you understand me? We on the same page? I’m going to give you what you’ve been looking for. This is what you’ve wanted, right?”

  “Yes,” I whispered, so wet I could hardly understand. He was right, I wanted this. My entire body was aching to feel his full length inside of me. To feel him take me.

  “Yes. Right. That’s what I thought. So then, take hold of the countertop, sugar. You’re gonna want to hold on.”

  His fingers moved inside of me faster, his thumb coming up to rub my clit and send a jolt of ecstasy through me that made me cry out. Without thinking, I did as I was told. I took hold of the counter because if I didn’t, I wasn’t going to be able to support my own weight for much longer. My legs were made of rubber, my knees buckling and jumping with each new wave of feeling. When I heard the faint but distinct sound of his zipper coming down, I gasped in anticipation, shutting my eyes tightly.

  “Last chance, Bella. You want me to stop, you better say so now. Another second and I won’t be able to control myself.”

  “No, don’t. Don’t stop now, Matt. I swear to God if you stop now, I’ll kill you!”

  He chuckled. It was a brief, low sound that didn’t sound all that amused. If anything, it sounded kind of sad, and I almost asked him what was troubling him despite my resolution not to get emotionally involved in any way. Then his massively hard cock was sliding into me, and nothing else mattered anymore.

  My jeans were around my ankles so that I could hardly move; my thong still slung to one side, forgotten. His hands grabbed hold of my hips as he thrust into me, grunting in a way that sent shivers from the tips of my toes all the way up to the roots of my hair. I looked down at my fingers and saw that they had gone white from how hard I was holding onto the countertop. I arched my back into him, twisted some to look at his face, maybe to kiss him, and was rebuffed.

  “No, Bella. Don’t. Don’t do that.”

  And so, I turned away from him again, the question as to why he wouldn’t want me facing him forgotten when his long fingers moved around the front of me and started working on me once more.

  “Oh! Oh, my God! Matt!”

  “Don’t scream,” he reminded me, his breath catching in his throat, becoming more ragged, “unless you want to get us caught.”

  “God!”

  My hair hung in my face, my thighs hitting the counter with each thrust of his perfect cock. His fingers moved in time with his thrusts, and I rocked my hips enthusiastically. My skin started to tingle, a feeling that ran through me at lightning speed and settled into the part of me Matt occupied. My eyes flew open in surprise. This was going to be the most insane orgasm of my life. I knew it, I could more than feel it, and I wanted to see him. If he wouldn’t let me face him, the mirror would have to do. I drank up the image of his hands on me, his face buried into my neck as his heavy breathing turned into animal sounding grunts. He wasn’t looking at me, and it was as if he wanted it that way. Matt pumped inside of me until my vision exploded with little flowers of white light. One of my hands flew up to my mouth, and I bit down on it hard, muffli
ng my cry of exquisite pleasure. At the same time, Matt bit down savagely on my shirt, grazing my neck, and let out his own strangled moan. For a moment, the two of us just hung there together, our bodies slick with sweat and all our energy utterly spent. Then his cock was pulling out of me, leaving me empty and in shock over the feeling.

  “Matt?”

  “I hope it was everything you were looking for,” he said in a conversational tone, almost bored, as he buckled his belt. “I could have lasted longer, but it’s been a while for me. I guess shit happens.”

  “No, Matt, it was...amazing. It was totally amazing.”

  “Glad you thought so. Now, wait for a couple of beats after I leave to make your way out.”

  He had the lock undone and was out the door before I had the chance to say anything. I reached out after he had gone and, with a hand that felt completely numb, locked the door again. I didn’t need somebody trying to come in with their little kid and finding me standing there with my sex-damp thong and my pants down on the floor. Once that was done, all I could do was stand there.

  I had done it. I had finally done what I had set out to do. Matt and I had had sex, and it had been because I wanted it, not because I was head over heels. We’d had sex, and it was for nothing other than the sex itself, no emotion whatsoever.

  So then why did I feel so damn strange?

  CHAPTER NINE

  BELLA

  I lay on my stomach on the thick mattress, grinning into my pillow and giggling a little as Matt made his way up the length of my body. He spoke between the trail of kisses he planted on every inch of my skin.

  “This is perfect skin; you know that?”

  “You’re so silly, Matt.”

  “No ma’am, not me. You’re beautiful. Every part of you.”