La Vie En Rose

I just wanted to say Happy Valentine’s Day to all of you, especially the lonely and the unrequited lovers among us. There’s a lot of pressure to be in a relationship, especially on this Hallmark Holiday. Still, I feel the angst as well. I’m only human.

I want to share this song, one because it’s awesome, and two because it’s a nice arraignment by a talented singer. I actually bought and downloaded this to hear on my drive to work. I’m a romantic at heart and unrequited love seem to be my forte.

C’est l’amour!

Short Story: On the losing end

The moment she walked in, I knew it was over. I could read the pain on her face, as well as a resigned determination to get what she came to do over with. I expected anger, I expected tears, I especially expected to be yelled at. What I didn’t expect was the bombshell she dropped on me when she sat down.

“I’m pregnant, Dave,” she said coldly, relishing the pain her unexpected news had caused me.

“P – pregnant,” I stammered, trying to grasp what she was saying. “But how? I thought we couldn’t…,” I finished lamely.

“No,” she grinned maliciously, “you couldn’t and I married you anyway. I gave up my right to motherhood for you, and this is how you repay me?”

“Repay you?” I yelled. “You’re pregnant! Who the hell is the father?”

“Who can say?” she teased. “Could be anyone, I suppose. Why does it matter?”

“Because you’re my wife, that’s why,” I yell, pounding the table between us for greater effect.

She looked at me, unfazed by my outburst. I could see contempt in her eyes, but also pity. I could stand the contempt, but why should she feel sorry for me? I wanted to strike back, to beat the woman who betrayed me and made a mockery out of my manhood. She silenced me with one question. “How long were you cheating on me?”

Just like that, the heat of my anger grew cold, and the reason we sat in a sterile conference room became clear once more. I opened my mouth to answer, but no sound escaped my lips. I closed my mouth when I became aware just how ridiculous I appeared, but it was too late. I swallowed and took a deep breath before I gave her an answer. “That was the only time, the time you caught me. What about you? How long have you been…”

“Don’t try to turn this on me,” she hissed angrily. “I caught you over a year ago, sleeping with Dan’s wife” She leaned back and folded her arms as she scrutinized me, making me feel somehow small. “Your best friend from college, and you slept with his wife. What would he think?”

“Please don’t,” I plead, not wanting to hear what I knew was to come. But she surprised me.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you, for over a year, and I know all your little secrets, you text messages and emails to each other. I had you tailed and I have enough dirt to destroy you, but first I wanted to humiliate you.”

“You want to know how long I’ve been cheating on you? About four months. I waited, you see, to figure out how best to take my revenge on you, and then it hit me. I would get pregnant. Seemed a simple and elegant solution, don’t you thing?”

“That’s cold.”

“What? Don’t you want to hear the best part?” She waited for me to answer, but when I don’t she proceeds all the same. “You know Dan always wanted a kid, right? You know how his bitch of a wife refused to give him one?” I sat there in horror as the cruelty of her revelation ripped into me. “I see you can put two and two together. I told him about your rendezvous with his wife, and at first he didn’t want to have anything to do with my little plan, but I soon had him seeing things my way. By the way, he’s a much better lover than you. Don’t know why Delia’s fooling around with you.”

Without another word, she slides a packet towards me, and I know what is inside. I open to see a Waver of Service. Fill that out and we can get started with the whole divorce proceeding. I’ve already filed. We can let our lawyers hash out all the details, division of property, assets and debts, child support….”

“Child support! For a kid that’s not mine. You’re fucking crazy!”

“Funny thing,” she smirked at my indignant response. “In Texas, the husband is presumed to be the father. You’re my husband, I got pregnant while we are still legally married. In the eyes of the law, you’re going to be a father. Congratulations!”

“Bullshit,” I yell. “You can’t do this. I’ll fight it.”

“I’m sure you will, and I’m sure we may find some middle ground. Or not. Either way, this marriage is over. I hope she way worth it and I hope you two will be happy together.”

Fuming, I sign the waver and hand it back to her. She slides it into a folder and stands up. “I’m sorry it had to come to this. Believe it or not, I still love you and wish I didn’t have to do this, but I refuse to let you do to me what my father did to my mother. I deserve better. Good bye, James.”

In less time than it took to get her from the parking garage, she managed to take control and destroy me. Part of me was impressed and proud, but mostly I hated the bitch because I hate to lose and I lost this round. I’d have to wait and see what my lawyers would have to say, but regardless, this wouldn’t be cheap no matter how quickly and quietly we resolved this.

As I stood up to leave, my phone rang and I noticed Delia calling me. “What’s up?”

“Hey, James,” I heard her say and I could tell that she’d been crying. “Dan confronted me about us, and I can’t do this anymore. I can’t lose him.”

“What are you saying?”

“I had fun but it’s over between us.”

“What? You know he got my wife pregnant.”

“Yes, I know, but you don’t understand. I love him. You were great, but Dan’s the guy I’ve loved since forever. I made a mistake and we’re going to try to work it out. Don’t fight this, James. I won’t give him up. Not for you.” She hung up and I’m left to deal with the reality that I lost not once, but twice. I made a fool out of Dan but he got me back as well. I’m left with nothing but a bitter taste in my mouth.


Short Stories

Next story – Valentine’s Day Proposal
Previous story – Revenge is but a game

Short Story: The Cheater

“Can I come over?”

That was the last thing Lizza had expected to hear from her ex-husband, a man who spent their entire marriage cheating on her, the last time with her friend in her own bed.

“Why the hell should I let you?” Lizza asked. “We’re over. You chose that skank over me. What ever problem you’re having, I want none of it. I’m done with your drama.”

“Please, Liz-bear?” He begged. “For old times sake?”

In spite of the indignation coursing through her, hearing his old pet name for her thawed her otherwise chilly feelings for him and she relented. “Fine, but no funny business.”

“Thanks, Liz. I’ll see you in fifteen.”

Fifteen minutes? She wondered. Is he already on his way here? She didn’t wait to consider it much more because her apartment was a mess, and she didn’t want him to see just how far she had let herself go. After a quick cursory sweep though the living room, she changed into something a little more appropriate than a short pair of shorts and a tank top.

Twenty minutes later, she heard a knock at the door. She waited for him to knock again before opening the door. “Hey,” she greeted him disinterestedly.

“Hey to you too,” he grimaced. “Thanks for seeing me.”

“Whatever,” Lizza shrugged. “Not to be rude,” she said as she closed the door, “but what the hell do you want?”

“You’re not at least going to invite me to sit?”

“I don’t want you to think you’re welcome here,” she retorted, “but what the fuck, make yourself comfortable.”

“Thanks.” He maneuvered awkwardly around his ex since she refused to budge and got comfortable on the futon. “This is cozy. I like what you’ve done with the place.”

“Seriously, I’m not up to idle chit-chat. What do you want?”

“Right,” he grew serious and cleared his throat. “Lizza, I made a mistake…”

“No, don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Whatever it is you’re doing, just don’t.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Oh spare me,” Lizza spat. “I gave you the best years of my life, and for what? To see you time and again fooling around my back? I put up with it once, but I won’t be your fool again.”

“Sandy’s pregnant,” he blurted out in obvious distress.

“So?”

“So? She doesn’t know who the father is, only that it’s not me. She made get a vasectomy before we could…”

“I don’t need the particulars,” Lizza stopped him, a look of revulsion on her face. “Why should I care?”

“Because I get it. I understand now what I did and how I wronged you. I understand the hurt I caused you and I want a chance to make amends. I want a chance to be the man, to be the husband you needed me to be.”

“No,” Lizza shook her head sadly, “you want the chance to reclaim your manhood, but I’m not giving you that chance.”

“But why?”

“Because I’ve moved on.”

“You call this moving on?

“I do,” Lizza responded defiantly. “You broke me, shattered me into a million little pieces, or at least I thought you did, but I pulled myself together. I realized that I let myself be defined by you, by our marriage, by your need to control me and your need to satisfy yourself with all those girls you chose to screw behind my back.”

“But…,”

“No. I’m done listening to you. Yeah, I don’t have much,” Lizza glanced around at her sparse surroundings, “but I have everything I need. I’m taking care of myself for the first time in my life, and you know what I found out?”

“No, what?”

“That I can do it. I can be independent. I can take care of myself, and I don’t need a man to do everything for me. I don’t need to have to take care of anyone, either. It’s just me and I’m loving the freedom I found when I left you. I can go out or stay in at my leisure. I can read in total silence, and I don’t have to wonder where you are or who you’re with.

“I loved you, or at least I thought I did, but I think I was just scared to be alone. It’s not that bad. In fact, it’s been a blessing. So, no. If you’re hoping for yet another chance, don’t bother. I’m sorry it’s not working out with Sandy, but she cheated on her husband to be with you. Why did you expect that she wouldn’t cheat on you?”

“That’s below the belt,” he pouted.

“No, it’s just the truth.” Lizza sat on the futon beside him and put her hand on his knee. “I wish I could say the pain goes away, but that feeling of being insignificant, of not being able to satisfy your partner might never go away. It hasn’t for me. You’re going to have to deal with it on your own. It’s not my responsibility to help you through it.”

“Fine,” he said in a resigned voice. “I knew it was a long shot to begin with.” He stood up and walked to the door. “I guess I’ll be seeing you?”

“Maybe, but not like this. I don’t want you to come crying to me when it doesn’t work out with one of your floozies. Good bye.”

She watched impassively as her ex walked out, slamming the door behind him. With him gone, she changed back into her skimpy outfit she had one before he called, pulled out a joint and lit it. Once she felt relaxed, she pulled out her phone and called her friend.

“Dante? It’s Lizza. You were right,” she laughed.” He came crawling back to me, just like you said he would. I told him I didn’t want him back. As for tonight, it’s still on. I never let my marriage to that joke get in the way of our fun time did I? No. Just make sure you and the guys are ready to have some fun. I’ll be over some time after dark, and hey, clean sheets this time, okay? Can’t wait. Bye!”


Short Stories

Next story – Revenge is but a game
Previous story – The Girl on Highway 287

Wanted: Writer needs writing project

Today is day three of 2014, and I’ve yet to find the motivation to get back to work on my writing. I’m sure I’m not alone in feeling apathetic about sitting down at the computer to pound out a couple of thousand words on a manuscript, or maybe putting off working on edits or rewrites. Have I given up completely on writing?

I hope this is temporary, and that I’ll find my mojo soon. I’m ready to get back to work, or I should say I’m ready to feel excited about wanting to write. I know I need to sit down and write, but the story I’m working on is a dead-end, again. I don’t like the main characters and I hate where the story is heading. I’ve shelved that project for the time being.

Now I’m left without a project to work on, and I’m feeling guilty about it. I’m thinking about resurrecting my first attempt at a novel, which I wrote as my first NaNoWriMo novel back in 2011. Funny how I can’t let 2011 go.

Son of the Father is about a Catholic Bishop who one day finds out he has a grown up son. At least that’s the premise I started with, but that’s not what I wrote. I want to rewrite the whole book so that I am left with what I originally intended. What’s keeping from starting is knowing that most of the original story will have to be sacrificed in order to create that story.

I’m enamored with one particular story arc, and I’m having a hard time letting it go. Bishop Israel Mendoza, prior to becoming a bishop, is a priest in the employ of the Vatican. He meets a woman in need of help, a prostitute who wants out of her situation. In the course of their interactions, they fall in love.

I love the story because it’s so tragic. Love is a wonderful thing, and there’s something about forbidden love that captivates us. I’m just not sure who it ties in to the narrative as a whole. Perhaps the answer is to spin it off and write it as its own book.

I’ll have to give it some thought before I commit myself to it, but it seems to be a good idea. That way I can take it out of my original story without having to lose it completely.