Eight: One Stormy Night

The kiss had been a real shock and that evening I had been surprised when David had phoned up near one in the morning to say he was going to crash with Harper for the night. I pondered over whether he was indeed telling the truth in that message or whether it was just another lie to keep me off of his back. At that moment though I was eager to let him do what he wanted to, eager to let him hurt me because of the fear that what had just happened would hurt him so much.

In my mind I questioned so many things, why did it matter Sam had kissed me? Who had called Sam on the phone? Had Sam been slipped some alcohol or been trying to have a laugh? Was I just being tested by everyone? Was David going to think there was something going on between us? Why hadn't I hit Sam? Why didn't I slap Sam across the face?

Did Sam actually mean something in that kiss?

That night I was sick and felt awful through the next day, I couldn't sleep and David's failure to return a second night made me all the more wretched. I found myself eager to be distracted but too sickly to concentrate on work much; although I went in out of fear my co-workers would indicate I had a hangover. As much as my boss knew I was not the kind to drink or any such thing, it was just an easy way to wind me up and when you were such a goody-two-shoes and always kept up with your assignments... everyone looked for a way to annoy you. It was bad enough at work one of my female co-workers dared to suggest I might be feeling crappy because I was pregnant!

That was something I had never even considered a possibility before, but thanks to a swift pregnancy test was quickly disproved.

Things settled back to normal whilst David was away though and the last night before he’d gone out on his job we’d spent a glorious and passionate night together. I sometimes worry that I think of our relationship these days only for the physical pleasure I experienced within it, if only because the emotional connection we’d started with had begun to loosen and slip out of my hands. I didn’t see Sam that whole time to make sure that David would not hear stupid rumours from his friends and I simply got on with it. What else could I do when I was still in shock? I was so happy when David returned….

“David, your phone is going off again. Is it work or Harper with another crazy scheme?” I groaned as I lounged on the bed upstairs with him. Once again we were both naked and had enjoyed another session of love-making irked on by the thought that David might be going off on a mission again. I felt his hands shift from stroking the lower part of my back to straining toward the patch of bed where he’d flung his pants. When it was obvious he couldn’t reach I stretched an arm back to grab the fabric and tug it forward for him. He kissed me firmly before hooking the phone out and flicking the phone on. His eyes widened and I was shocked then he rolled over and groaned as he spoke to the being before turning the phone off.

“Well you’re not going to like this but I’ve been called up early. Bit of a pain, I know, but you can’t argue with the bosses.” Without missing a beat he sat up and grasped his nearest shirt. Before I could even ask questions he was up out of the bed and rummaging through his clothes. For a while I remained silent, stunned that he was going now! He wasn’t a fireman or a police officer, soldiers weren’t just deployed wily-nily like this!

My attempt to discuss the matter was joyfully ignored as he even whistled about the room. I was angry but he was right, I didn’t know exactly what he did but it was always involving secrecy. I told myself not to ask questions when he probably didn’t know the answers to them himself. I just sat down looking miserable as he repeated phrases about his excitement for the wedding. He even tried to placate my frustration by suggesting that, while he was away, I look into venues and dresses. He even took me to the computer to watch him transfer money across to my account so I could have ‘fun’ while he was away.

Such a thing might be considered a massive act of trust on his part but it was jus a way to keep me quiet. I noted too, though it felt inherently despicable of me to look, that he had money in about four different savings accounts titled ‘vacation, retirement, fun and my name’. It just made my skin crawl for some reason as he kissed me goodbye and left without another word on anything.

* * * * *

The next day I was back at work again and to my surprise the engagement was still the talk of the office. I had questions about the ring, how he proposed (which I lied about) and when we were thinking to tie the knot. It seemed like a rush but suddenly it encouraged a social life to develop for me. Over the next week I had so many girlfriends spoiling me and taking me to bridal shops and coffee I was getting muddled up. I had never thought I was popular before, but then I began to think over how many times I’d been invited places but ‘we’ couldn’t go. Suddenly married life held all the prospects of a cage to me.

Then I had a real shock in the form of an overheard conversation. At school I had developed a habit of hiding in the toilet to have a lunch unmolested by bullies and the method of being ultra quiet and hardly noticed when in the bathroom was terribly inbuilt. I had been checking another pregnancy test in the solace of an isolated toilet cubicle, after feeling sick again and it becoming habit whenever David went away, when the door had opened. I listened to the clip-clopping of high heels in anxiety before breathing gently and trying not to appear so anxious. To be honest it would probably have been better if I’d made myself known, then my ears would have been spared torture. The two figures were my dear friend Danielle and her best friend, although she wasn’t overly keen on me, Sophie; two people I’d developed relationships with because of Harper more then work. Danielle had been heartbroken by Harper’s antics and to my shock it wasn’t just his.

“Sophie, I’m really worried that _________ is heading for hell! At least with Harper there was only a month before I dumped him. But she’s been with David for ages and hasn’t got a clue. I thought she might have picked up on something and been hanging with that Sam guy to try and wake him up… but she’s going to marry David! We’ve got to protect her.” My heart quickened and my teeth tightened with hate at what was being discussed.

How could people expect me to guess with a man like Dave?

“Look, I’m all for telling her that he’s been going behind her back but look at how far it’s gone. If she hasn’t been forced to see the truth by now she’ll never believe it. Then she’ll ask for proof and what can we tell her then? She doesn’t know about his second Facebook account that says he’s single – he doesn’t upload pictures for anyone but the boys to view so she won’t know anyway! Then she’ll ask to see someone who’s been with him in an attempt to understand it and that’ll kill her. She’s too nice for that, it’s bad enough her own college room mate was the main culprit – in fact I sweat he was the one she got in the hot tub at the reunion last year when ____ was helping you when you were being sick. We can’t tell her Dani… She has to find out herself so she can be angry with him and fight instead of being alone and broken!”

The words shocked me and rocked me to the core. I found that I had to remain silent for a lot longer then I would have liked before I could return to work. In all honesty I had forgotten to check the pregnancy test and had only recalled seeing it as clear… but that could easily have been before it was ready! It was going to be a while before I realised just how foolish that ignorance was.

Concentration on work saved me and to my surprise I had almost fooled myself into thinking about the wedding. But by the time I reached home the storm clouds were heavy above the house and my heart. I couldn’t let myself accept the facts for what they were and I wasn’t going to wallow if I could help it. I busied myself and put off every urge to call, text or e-mail my upset to friends and instead wrote long badly punctuated letters on recycled paper before ripping it to shreds to soothe my anger.

I made it into a deliciously warm shower before I broke down in tears. I was grateful to the water, it helped me realise how unhappy I was but how much I had needed to know it was not all in my head. I had wanted to tear all his things up or throw them out of the door but I couldn’t. I loved him and the sad fact was that I knew it was a life I could cope with… a life that was ‘normal’ in the most twisted fashion imaginable.

That evening I settled down in a warm dressing gown and slouched on the sofa. I went channel surfing until some nature documentary discussing the females that ‘used males’ was on. I found surprising solace and understanding in the praying mantis devouring her mate. I guess that was natural to feel at the time, but with lightning flashing about me and rain thundering down, I felt devilish, gothic and morbid. I wanted to see a man suffer in recompense for his treatment of women and allowed a cruel, sick melancholy dance in my mind until it was quite suddenly interrupted by a knocking at the door.

I pitied the fool to travel in this torrent but I went to the door and to my great shock found Sam Fisher drenched at standing there. Nervously he informed me of his discomfort regarding previous actions, that he had wanted a chance to apologise and feared loosing my friendship. I couldn’t be mad at him, right there and then Sam seemed the most wonderful and gentlemanly person I’d ever known in my life. I felt a need to tell him everything, even though he might just say ‘I told you so’.

I didn’t however… the dark side of me that wanted vengeance dared to take control of the situation. Like a scene in a dangerous movie, I allowed him inside and immediately offered him the use of my shower. I was surprised by his eagerness to do so whilst I put his clothes in the wash and made a point of making the room look comfortable. I wanted people to think something was going on, I wanted David to hurt like I was hurting about the thought of a betrayal. He’d come down the stairs in just a towel and looking a little embarrassed about it when I’d decided to try the line ‘it’s miserable outside and it’ll probably stay miserable, you might as well stay the night’, which seemed to work. We then enjoyed long conversations over a glass of wine before acting just a little too affectionate, our eyes meeting and the storm suddenly causing a power cut to leave us alone in the dark.

In pitch dark and storm, we were as anonymous as any lovers in the night!