💘 Romance

I am gently used. Years have come and gone, memories etched in stone. The timing could not have been prevented, no matter who took control? I always knew you cared. I thought you cared out of sanity and the desire to meet society’s classification of a normal person. My heart weeps with pain when you reveal yourself to me. If only I had known before, would I have been able to accept it? I am sure things would be different now. I do not have an answer. I plead my feelings to you like a dam with no manpower. My tears come naturally as I bare my naked soul to you. Tears of your own threaten to escape; you are feisty enough to tell me this is not how I feel. Who did you say you were again? I pray to have you erased from my mind. It is the only way I know how to cope, the memories denied. I want them gone forever! Love and desire is what you have thrown at me. They sting like grains of rice thrown on my wedding day. My body glistens with sweat as it tries to contain itself. Everything is laid out and opens, like a virgin at her prom. Hours later, your fears, not mine stamp across the possibilities. I admire your nerve, you politely ask me to stay with you always. Just as a friend, by your side for all eternity. I smile and I tell you that your behaviour disgusts me. Are you happy to see me or thoughts of moments you share with her linger like an intricate spider web? I will be honest and say I do not think I can do this, be second place. No matter the options, I calculate and try to embrace. It is of no use and a waste of my time. With the cards I can shuffle and play, the solution to this formula is the same. I lose. If I stay, I will have moments of ecstasy and moments of pure strangulation. If I leave, the times that are addictive will disappear quicker then I will have time to shower off the filth. I will be left with suffocation and bitterness that will drive me to the bottom of the earth. This place is completely foreign to me. I will put it to you straight. I laugh, I am jealous. You tell me she does not want you to see me anymore because of me. It is absurd really. A clear sign of where your loyalties lie, with her. I understand you hurt. I wish I could put my arms around you and be there, just so you know that someone does love you. I try to rush by your side; you stop me in my tracks. You do not want me to be here for you. You want space and no trace of me. You deny our friendship because of a few carnal moments with her. Your cookie starts to crumble. I try to reason. If you go into her arms she will forbid our friendship. You deny me to be with her. It is a forensic lie to fabricate a fantasy. I am on a cliff and wait for a moment that will change my life for eternity. You will put your arms around me and we will walk away together. Or you will throw me off the cliff and watch me go. Ecstasy was mine to grasp briefly. I am sad and hurt. You walk away from me. I am angry there is a chance that you might give me up at all. Not just for her or for the next one, but generally for anyone or anything at all. Is Liar your middle name? After all we have been through. What a fool I am to believe your meaningless words that declare your unconditional love for me. I poke a hole in the silence that is spread like a consummation blanket before us. I just want to hear that you care, you confirm and then silence. You stand up with tears in your eyes, I sit in silence. If I look at you and say one word or move, I will crumple to the ground. I do not want you to see my weakness. You walk over to me, your arms embrace me, and my tears start. You say nothing; bless your sweet lips on my neck. You let go, turn and walk away. I pick up a shovel and plunge it into the earth. It is time to start digging.  💘

Darlene noticed the couple as they entered. They looked to be in their mid to late 20s, the better part of ten years younger than she herself. What a perfect couple, she thought. 

They looked like a perfect match. The guy was handsome, with a powerful build and gorgeous, muscular face. Must lift weights, she figured. 

The girl was stunning — fine brunette hair, exquisitely layered with a slight inward flip just at shoulder length, and attractive bangs that accentuated the beauty of her face. A perfect face and perfect body that made people think she must be some celebrity who'd come out of seclusion. Covering this body was a strapless yellow body-wrap top, matching tight yellow shorts, and black stiletto heels. Wish I was a perfect doll like that, thought Darlene. 

Even though there were only three other customers in the diner, the young pair preferred a booth in the most remote section of the diner that they could find ... shadowed from the morning light that poured through the front windows. The pastel turquoise seat cushions matched the pastel turquoise laminate of the table top. 

The guy sat straight, his arms folded. The girl leaned forward, onto her arms crossed on the smooth pastel table. Her head was bowed, as if in regret or shame. Uh oh, thought Darlene ... they've got a disagreement. 

She came over to their booth carrying two glasses of cold water. She liked the way the guy surveyed her as she approached. His eyes had that flicker that could smolder into something. "Hi, hon" she said, leaning on their table, revealing the cleavage under her blue spaghetti-strap top. "What can I getcha?" 

Vic's eyes dwelled momentarily on the waitress's rough, mature beauty. "Just coffee" he said. 

Darlene smiled, turned to the girl, who was also looking her over. She likes women, Darlene figured. "What's for you, hon?" she asked the girl. 

"I'll have a cup of tea" said Susan. 

"Right up" said Darlene with a smile and a nod, then whisked herself back over to the counter. 

Vic cast a lingering glance at Darlene's dark brunette ponytail and the derriere of her tight jeans as she retreated, then focused back on Susan. "So you're really going through with this" he muttered, trying to replace his scowl with a hurt, caring expression. 

"Vic ... you know I love you" pleaded Susan. "You know I love Becky. But you'll both be all right." She raised her moist, clear brown eyes to meet his. "You know I'll come back." 

"Why do I know that?" It was more a statement than a question. 

"Because you know me. You know my heart." Susan paused to wipe a tear from her eye. "You know I'll be back with you..." 

"Yeah ... you'll be back, probably bringing us all a little brown present from Maurice ..." 

"Don't be mean. You know I wouldn't do anything like that without ... without talking with you ..." 

"What's mean? I'm just being realistic. You keep saying how you'd love to have a ... a baby that's half African ..." 

Darlene brought their coffee and tea and put them on the table. "Cream?" she asked. 

"No, thanks" said Vic. 

"Anything else?" 

"Not for now." 

Darlene smiled and left them alone. She could sense trouble. 

Vic put his face in his hands, leaning into his elbows on the table. Then he crossed his arms and looked up, into his girl's eyes. "Susan ... Becky needs you, here. She needs her mom ... here. How can you ..." 

Susan dabbed her eyes with a tissue. "Vic ... we've been over and over this. I gotta do what I gotta do. You know I'm trying ... I've been trying to find myself ..." 

"I just wish you could find yourself here. With me ... and Becky. Instead of finding kinky sex with people that chain you up and whip you like a prisoner ..." 

"Vic, I've told you over and over ... it's just role-playing ..." 

"Well ... you told me you needed to play these games to get yourself ... to fire up your sex appetite. It was all to help our sex life. But this sounds to me like you're ... you're replacing your real life with a ... a life of playing games ..." 

"Vic, you know it's way more than that. You know I have a ... a close and loving relationship with ... with Fiona ... and Maurice. A beautiful relationship. I wish you could see that ..." 

"I'll tell you what I see. What I see is two women chasing after a stud that has sex with them, then ties 'em up and whips their asses in appreciation... That's what I see." 

"Well, you've never understood. It's nothing like that..." 

A burly older guy came in the diner and sat at the counter. 

"Hey, Frank ..." Darlene greeted him. "Whattaya up for this morning? Cup o' coffee?" 

"Sure" said Frank. 

Darlene poured his coffee. "What else can I getcha?" she asked. 

"What I want," he said, focusing on her intently, "I'm looking at. But I dunno how much of it's on the menu ..." 

Darlene giggled, softly, flattered at the flirtation. "You'd hafta negotiate something with my hubby," she said, "and I dunno if he's in any mood to negotiate on that ..." She also gave a quick glance around the diner, including in Vic's direction. Vic had seen her looking at him. 

He peered back into Susan's eyes. "What I understand" he said, "is that you wanna run off with them and leave me and Becky and your home and your job ..." 

"It's only for a while ..." 

"Where is it they're moving to?" 

"Wyoming ... Maurice has a job in Cheyenne. And I can be certified as a teacher in Wyoming." 

"Have you figured out where you're gonna live?" 

"Maurice and Fiona bought a big trailer ... We plan to live in the trailer." 

"I'm sure it's well-equipped ... with all the handcuffs, and the ball gags, and whips, and dog collars ... And don't forget your little enema kit ..." 

"You're just being snide." 

"Have you thought this through? Two white women living with a black guy. In Wyoming. In a trailer full of sex toys and bondage hardware ..." 

"We'll be careful ..." 

Vic looked at her, now pleadingly. "You were never into this kinky lesbian crap when I met you. You didn't know what bondage was. You weren't into enemas, either ..." Anger flashed in his eyes. "I oughta go over and beat the shit out of them. Both of them ..." 

"Don't say that. They didn't do anything to me. I'm meeting my own needs. They're my friends. More than friends ... we have a bond ... a spiritual bond ..." 

"I thought you had a spiritual bond with me ... and Becky. You know ... your daughter? Your four-year-old?" 

"I still do. I'll come back to you, you know I will ..." 

"Shit ..." 

"Vic, some women have needs. Like men have needs. You oughta know. You had your own needs, and you got your own satisfaction ... with Diane." 

Vic's face flushed. "So that's what it's all about — revenge? Diane is history ... I thought we'd moved past that ..." 

"We did move past it. And this is not about revenge. It's about fulfilling myself ... fulfilling my needs. I've found needs I didn't know I had." 

Susan took a deep breath. "You've had your adventures. I need to have mine. I need to be allowed to explore myself." 

"This is not the way it's supposed to be" pleaded Vic. "This isn't the way things are supposed to happen ..." 

"I know ... I know it's not the way society says things are supposed to happen" said Susan. "But what society says, and the way people are, can be two different things." 

Something snapped in Vic's consciousness, like a switch. It was as if the air pressure in the diner had changed. 

"All right" he said, suddenly agreeable, smiling weakly. "Go have your adventure. Your mom will help me take care of Becky." 

Susan saw a strange new look in his eyes. "You really mean it?" 

"I mean it. You can tell me all about it when you come back to me. When you come back home ..." 

"You're sure?" 

"I'm sure ..." 

Susan's eyes brightened. She got up, went around to his side of the table, leaned over and kissed him. It was a long, hot, lingering kiss. Vic wondered how many adventures those gorgeous lips, that delightful tongue would have. Before she'd come back to him, if she ever would ... 

He watched her leave, pushing the door open, turning heads as she walked out and disappeared down the street. Sadness started to close in on him. 

Darlene came over, coffee pot in hand. "More coffee?" 

"Yeah, guess so..." 

She refilled his cup. "You OK?" 

"Not really ..." 

"Breakup?" 

"Kinda ... I guess you could call it that ... kinda complicated ..." He looked up at her. "What's your name?" 

"Darlene." 

"What time you get off?" 

"Listen, I'm married. I got two kids..." 

"I just got free. And I got a four-year-old. How does Happy Hour sound?" 

Darlene smiled. "Four-thirty" she said.   💘

Haven Thornton-Mills stood in the obscure shadows outside the upscale Rosewood Resort, her refined features set in a stony mask as she watched her husband of twenty-seven years emerge through the extravagant brass doors with his latest whore draped across his arm. His boyish grin and swaggered stride left no doubt in Haven's mind what had just taken place behind closed doors. Brett embraced the woman who appeared half his age while the valet attendant brought his car around, a car which damn near cost Haven a fortune. Yet, the woman slid into the passenger's seat as if she owned the car and the man. Brett's despicable, profligate lifestyle had not only cost Haven money, it tarnished her name, left her pride bleeding like a wounded animal and self-confidence minuscule at best. But tonight, it was about to stop.



Drawing the mauve sweater around her slender shoulders to ward off the evening chill, Haven returned to the awaiting limo. Just as she settled into the soft leather seat with her long legs crossed and champagne in hand, the driver parted the center window. His golden gaze trailed appreciatively over her black dress and sheer hosiery. For a fleeting moment, she forgot Brett and his floozy, and allowed herself to indulge in a man's appreciation of her declining beauty. Although the tanned, muscular driver was much too young and she would never cross the line with employees, he still gave a boost to her libido, which she had declared legally dead.



"Follow him?" he asked.



Haven's lips stretched into a tight line. She simply nodded and set her gaze upon the resort's pristine property, its sloping, lush landscape and novelty shops quickly faded from view as the limo pursued Brett at a safe distance.



Prior to Brett's countless affairs, the black hole in Haven's heart had once been filled with endless love. Having been sheltered by her wealthy father, Wendell Thornton, and her inexperience with men, she was taken by Brett's deceitful charms the moment she'd gazed into his piercing green eyes. Within six months of meeting him and at the defiance of her father's wishes, they were married.



In a small town like New Lisbon, Wisconsin, rumors spread like wildfire, and it didn't take long to discover his insatiable taste in women and fine living. At Haven's expense, Brett carried on with his affairs, obtained three degrees from the best Universities in the world, and now at fifty-six, he still didn't know what he wanted to do with his life. What pained her most was his refusal to have children and now that her biological clock had long since taken its last tick, it would never happen. Through it all, she loved him.



However, tonight, as she looked ahead at the lover's silhouette under the night's sky, Haven only felt loathsome contempt for her husband. She imagined Brett between the woman's legs, foaming at the mouth, riding her like a dog in heat, oblivious of his sacred marital vows and the wife who'd given him everything. A renewed fury rose from the pit of her soul, blinding her with rage, consuming her with revenge. She hurled the champagne glass into the side window, shattering it to pieces. How dare he? Who the hell did he think he was?



"Is everything okay?" the smooth voice asked over the intercom.



Haven's insides shook so fiercely, she felt ill. Taking an unsteady breath, she retrieved her make-up compact from her purse and powdered her nose.



"Mrs. Mills?"



"I'm fine, just drive the damn car."



She reached out and took the bottle of champagne from the crushed ice, tilting it to her lips. The bubbly liquid swished around her mouth, the effects drifting to her head. She tilted the champagne for a second helping, but her entire body went still when the limo coasted to a stop on a dark, ominous street. She slowly set the bottle aside, her gaze followed Brett's car. Had her money been used to purchase this home? An iron gate parted, allowing him access to the impressive, well-kept property, nestled between collages of sugar maple trees. Brett parked in the circular driveway, climbed from the driver's seat and went to assist the woman out of the car. They giggled over a private joke and kissed passionately before he took her hand and disappeared through an arched entrance covered with climbing roses.



After what seemed like an eternity, Haven glanced at her diamond studded watch--only an hour had passed. She tugged at the blonde wig with gloved hands, making sure her chestnut hair didn't spill out.



It was time.



She pushed the limo's door open, stepped out and walked toward the residence. Her heels clicked softly against the cobblestone road. She pulled the gate and was pleasantly surprised to find it unlocked. Slipping through the small opening, she hurried to Brett's car and waited.



Fifteen minutes later, Brett finally strode out of the home, whistling. The closer he got, her heart grew heavy, knowing their life together would end tonight, and it weighed even more knowing he'd used her in every way possible.



Startled, Brett gasped and stepped backwards. "Haven, wha--what are you doing here?"



The wind carried the faint smell of a woman's perfume, considering it wasn't hers, Haven made the only sensible assumption. "I should be asking you the same question. What are you doing here?"



"I'm dropping off a friend. She was stranded ...."



"Brett, don't insult my intelligence since we both know she's just another whore in your lifetime of lies."



He moved toward the car; his eyes blazed with anger. "We'll discuss this at home."



Haven's patience snapped. "You don't have a home. All you have is what's on your back and be thankful for that." She reached into her purse and extracted a paper and pen. "Sign," she said harshly.



He chuckled. "Do you really think I'm that stupid? It's going to take a lot to get rid of me. I'm used to a lucrative lifestyle and I expect it to continue whether we're together or not. So, go home where you belong. I'll meet you there."



"This is your last chance. Sign and I'll give you one hundred thousand dollars and a quiet divorce."



"You're pathetic. No other man will ever want you."



She had never detested him more. "You're right. To marry a loser like you, I am pathetic. As for another man, many are waiting to take your place, even the one you call your best friend." She placed the paper back in her purse. "My offer has expired."



Brett's face paled, his lips twisted into an evil snarl. "You're a dried up hag, Harold wouldn't have you."



"He already has." She turned on her heels and walked down the driveway. Although she'd lied about sleeping with Harold, the stunned look on Brett's face made up for the pain he so easily inflicted.



Brett called behind her. "This marriage has run its course. Besides, Carol and I want to be together.



Two million dollars, I'll go away quietly." She did her best to ignore him, but hearing him refer to the other woman by name pierced her heart.



Haven returned to the limo, taking one last look over her shoulder at Brett as he got into his car. "Drive to the next block," she ordered the driver. Once they were in position, she removed a flat silver device from her purse. Her finger paused, contemplating her decision one last time. The humiliation, pain and anger, gave her the courage she needed. She pressed the button. A deafening explosion rocked the calm of the neighborhood as a ball of rumbling fire ripped through the sky, dispersing into multiple pockets of fire, thick smoke trailing in its wake. The ground beneath the limo vibrated; a street light flickered before casting them into total darkness. The limo sped forward.



After traveling a short distance, the driver asked, "Where to?"



Haven lifted her face from her lap; tremors still ricocheted throughout her body. "Home. I want to be in bed when the police arrive to tell me of my husband's misfortune."



The driver's gaze met hers in the rearview mirror, and his words left no room for misunderstanding. "After they leave, would you mind me comforting you over your loss?"



Haven smiled. "I would like that very much."  💘

“You really should have had that second fitting done, honey. Closer to the day.”

“It doesn’t matter now, Mum,” said Corinne, shifting uneasily in her seat. Carefully sipping her water as if each mouthful might burst her seams, she lamented the fact her beautiful dress was already much fuller than its maker had intended.

“Are you feeling any better? Can you make it to the end?”

“I’ll last as long as I can but it doesn’t matter anyway.”

Susan was horrified and grabbed her daughter’s hand. “How can you say that?”

“Look at him,” said Corinne waving her hand dismissively in the direction of her new husband, Andrew. “He doesn’t care. He’s oblivious.”

“He’s a little drunk, and enjoying this special day.”

“Rubbish,” scoffed Corinne. “He’s almost legless and he’s drinking to take away the pain of the realization he’s married now.”

“Corinne,” said Susan, but that was all she could think to say under the circumstances. Gently patting her daughter’s thigh, she eventually added, “I’ll let Andrew know you aren’t well and I’m sure he’ll come to you.”

“Don’t bother mum. He doesn’t care. He just wants this day to be over.”

Susan smiled weakly and squeezed Corinne’s hand before standing and walking over to Andrew who was staggering about on the dance floor.

Watching as her mother tapped Andrew on the shoulder to get his attention and began to talk to him while gesturing in her direction, Corinne sipped her water again and winced at a sharp pain in her stomach. Has to be cramp she thought to herself, I need to try to get up and walk around a bit. Struggling to her feet, she listened hard for the sound of splitting seams but heard only the groan of the chair as she launched herself upright. Brushing a stray lock of blond hair from her watery red eyes she looked around the reception hall and noticed that everyone seemed to be having a great time, quite apart from her. Perhaps she was just a convenient excuse for a family and friends booze up. What a terrible mistake it all was.

Three mistakes compounding each other actually. The first, to get involved with Andrew romantically in the first place, and sleep with him. The second to fall pregnant, and finally to marry him when she knew it was only for respectability’s sake. What a quaint concept. Respectability.

Before Corinne could get far enough away, Susan returned with Andrew trailing behind her.

“Here he is,” said Susan hopefully.

“Are you sick?” asked Andrew.

Corinne was suddenly disgusted by him. “As if you care,” she said.

“So you’re all right then?”

“You see Mum? See what I mean?”

Again all could Susan could muster was a faint smile. “He’s here now honey. Why don’t you just tell him what’s wrong.”

Corinne looked at Andrew and saw he was looking over his shoulder back to the dance floor where a long-haired, long-legged vixen in a slinky red come-and-get-me-boys dress was smiling at him. Susan noticed this as well and quickly nudged Andrew in the ribs.

“You’re pathetic,” said Corinne spitting the words out.

“I came to see if you were all right,” said Andrew. “Your mum said you weren’t feeling well. Tell me what’s wrong?”

“I feel hot and faint and I have bad stomach cramps.”

“Period pain,” said Andrew flatly before laughing at his own joke.

“I’m pregnant you moron. With your child. Remember?”

“A joke, babe, that’s all. A joke.”

Corinne’s mouth dropped open as she squinted at Andrew and shook her head.

“That’s a great look babe, should I call the photographer?”

Susan had been searching for a way into the conversation so she could defuse the escalation in vitriol. She told Andrew that Corinne’s dress was too tight and that was why she felt faint and had cramps.

Andrew’s childish laughter caused Corinne’s hands to tremble, then clench into white knuckled fists. As she lifted her right hand to strike, Susan stepped forward and grabbed her daughter’s wrist. After a few moments of staring at each other, during which Andrew kept smiling and Corinne fought back tears, he walked away.

Corinne collapsed into her chair sobbing. “You see Mum? He doesn’t love me. Has any woman been treated like dirt by her husband on their wedding day, like this?”

Susan vainly continued with the lie. “He does love you, he married you didn’t he?”

“He married me because Dad threatened him. It’s obligation, mum, not love. This is a mistake.”

Catching the eye of Terry who was holding up the bar as usual, Susan motioned for him to come over. “Look Dad’s coming over and he’ll talk to you. He’ll tell you there were no threats made against Andrew. Andrew’s just a bit drunk at the moment. He’s happy. Celebrating.”

Corinne recovered her emotions and became angry. “Stop defending him Mum! Andrew has been lying and pretending to all of us for a long time now. He lied to get me in bed with him by telling me he loved me and he lied today in the church. Made promises to me before God, Mum, before God and all our loved ones. Promises he never intended to keep. I can’t marry him.”

“It’s too late for that honey.”

“Too late for what?” asked Terry arriving with warm kisses for his two favourite girls. Then noticing Corinne had been crying and Susan was wearing her this-is-the-end-of-the-world face, he said, “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

“Daddy, this is a mistake. Andrew doesn’t love me. He doesn’t even care about me.”

“Nonsense,” replied Terry firmly. “He married you didn’t he?”

Corinne could only shake her head.

Susan said, “Corinne thinks Andrew only married her today because you told him he had to.”

Half a dozen beers in quick succession had washed away Terry’s resolve, and he realized a lie would only hurt his little girl more. “It was the right thing for him to do. To take responsibility for his actions, to be a man. All I did was point that out to him, in case he didn’t know it.”

“We thought given time and the arrival of your baby that Andrew would settle down and mature into the role of husband and father,” added Susan.

Corinne felt sick. This fairy tale was never going to reach a happy ending. It would have to be terminated. She knew it would not work and she did not want to make it work. Well intentioned though they were, her parents had brought her to an intolerable situation. No, that wasn’t totally true; she really needed to accept responsibility for herself. It was about time she grew up.

“Please get the minister back in here. I want a divorce!”

Terry swore so loudly that he instantly caught everyone’s attention while Susan was too stunned to speak. They called Andrew over and argued amongst themselves for ten minutes, only stopping when the master of ceremonies approached to ask if they wanted to start the speeches now.

“There’s only going to be one speech,” said Corinne. She looked first at Susan, then Terry. “Please Daddy, just make one speech and then we can all go home.”

“Give us a few minutes mate,” said Terry. Pulling his mobile phone out of his pocket, he started to dial the minister’s number, but stopped and asked, “Are you sure, sweetheart?”

“I’m sorry to cause all this trouble but it will only get worse if we go on pretending. Yes, I’m sure, Daddy.”

Terry thought of what on earth he could say to all these people, then he thought of the embarrassment and the cost-what a waste of money, but he simple could not force his little princess to marry a man she plainly did not love. Holding Corinne’s cheek gently in his hand he dialed the number and smiled.

“Sorry to trouble you but we’ve got a bit of a problem. Can you come immediately?...well Corinne wants a divorce...I know, I know but that’s what she wants and she has our support...yes, okay I understand. Yes, thank you. Bye.”

Terry held both his daughter’s hands in his and said, “I’ll make the speech but you’ll have to stay married to him for a year before you can apply for a divorce. You can come back home.”

Corinne threw her arms around Terry. “Thanks Daddy.”

Terry finished the remains of his beer, took a deep breath and marched over to the microphone. After his short speech, shocked silence exploded in the reception room. This was followed by the quick and quiet departure of most of the wedding guests, leaving Andrew and his family and some close friends to grasp what had happened.

Corinne had never felt happier or more relieved.  💘