First off, I want to say thanks for all of the wonderful e-mails I got about last month's Story (Falling in and out of Love). I was really glad to see that a lot of you understood what I was going for. This one is a different animal though. I hope that the story is worth at least what you've paid to read it. For those of you who don't like this one, just e-mail me, tell me what you didn't like and I'll send you a refund. Thanks to the legendary Barney-R for editing this one while on vacation. Any goof ups you find were probably things I changed when i went back over it after he was done. SS06
I heard the buzzing from my cellphone and immediately came awake. I quickly silenced it and left our bedroom to get rid of the call before it awakened my sleeping husband.
I crept through the house and down the stairs to our living room where my voice wouldn't carry back to Steve, even if he did wake up. There on the stairs in my darkened living room, I let out my fury once and for all.
"God damn it Rick," I hissed. "I told you that it was over. Don't you understand English? It was never meant to be a permanent thing. I told you from the very beginning, that as soon as Steve graduated and our life went back to normal, you and I were done! You were there at his graduation last week. I was kind enough to give you one for the road, Monday? Now stop calling me..." I paused to listen to his whining for a second, but my fury only increased. Deep down inside, I was flattered by the way he felt, but I simply didn't return his feelings. I was despite all of the evidence to the contrary, a one man woman. I loved my husband like there was no tomorrow.
"You won't say shit, asshole. You have just as much to lose as I do. You're married too. And Georgia would take you to the cleaners. On some level I will miss it," I said. "Yes Rick you have the biggest dick I've ever had, but you already know that. It's over, don't call me anymore. No not even one more time. It has to end. So I'm ending it!"
I went into shock as the lamp on my living room suddenly flashed on. I looked into the biggest softest brown eyes I had ever seen. I knew every line and fleck of those eyes. Those eyes and the heart connected to them were what made me fall in love with Steve ten years before when I was only twenty years old.
I had been so intent on quickly getting out of bed and out of our room before Steve heard my phone that I hadn't noticed that he was no longer in our bed.
I could hear the sound of Rick pleading with me over the phone as it fell from my fingers and landed on the hardwood floor just below me. The screen of the fragile device cracked, but it still functioned and Rick continued to whine and plead. The ten foot distance between me and the chair my husband sat in suddenly seemed like an unreachable distance.
My heart was beating so loudly in my chest that I was sure he could hear it across the room. My husband's pain was evident in those same soft brown eyes. They seemed to be getting wetter with each passing second, but I knew he wouldn't cry in front of me.
The silence was deafening and it seemed to stretch for hours although I know that only a few seconds had elapsed since the light came on.
"My body takes a while to adjust from the midnight shift," he said. "I couldn't sleep. I didn't want to wake you or keep you up too. I came down here to play some games on my iPad.
His voice was tortured, but as he spoke he gained strength. Those first few words, delivered in a halting cadence were just his way of stalling for time. After ten years together, I knew him. Logic would take over next.
"I have the day off tomorrow," he said. "Actually I have the next two days off. I'm going to throw some clothes on and take my Mustang out for a drive. Maybe I'll stop off for breakfast. Then I'll be home. It's just after midnight. I'll try not to come back before 8am...
"But Steve, Honey, please don't leave we need to talk..." I whined. He held his hand up as if gesturing for me to shut the fuck up.
"I'm not leaving," he spat. "I'm giving you time to pack your shit. When I get back in the morning, I'll be tired, I'll go to sleep ... Just like I do after any other midnight shift. If you're here ... I'll hurt you ... BADLY.
"But Sweetheart, I have to explain this to you," I whined. "I'm sorry. You have to let me explain...
He walked straight to me and for the first time since I had known my sweet and gentle husband, I was afraid. I really believed that he was going to hit me. But he didn't even touch me as he bounded right by me and up the stairs. A few moments later ... barely long enough for me to begin to cry he was rushing past me in the other direction. The front door opened and slammed again and he was gone. I heard the hellish sound of his Mustang's exhaust system growing softer as he drove away.
I collapsed on the stairway and just started crying.
"Is he coming over here?" asked Rick's now shrill voice, from the still active phone. "Oh boy, I really fucked up didn't I?" I hung the phone up wondering why I'd answered it in the first place.
I ignored the phone. All I could think about was that my marriage was over. I thought abut trivial things. So many should have, could have and would have scenarios went through my mind as the tears fell.
I should have never cheated on him. I should have let him get me pregnant when he first wanted a baby. If we had kids I'd have an extra hold on him. Steve would never leave his children. He loved kids in general. But our kids ... They would have owned his heart even more than I did.
I could have spent the rest of my life being the best wife possible for him. That had been my intention after all. The fling with Rick ... And that was all it was ... A fling. A momentary scratch for a tiny itch that I could have lived with. It had meant nothing. It had meant less than nothing.
Fuck ... Who was I kidding? The fling with Rick meant that I was lying here on the fucking stairwell crying my eyes out while my husband put as much distance between us as he could. It meant that I had no idea about the future of my marriage.
I wanted to spend the rest of my life loving Steve. I'd already loved him for the past ten years of it. Not a day went by that I didn't thank the gods that he married me. I loved the man with all of my heart and soul. I couldn't so much as look at a picture of him without smiling.
Stevie was my everything. He was tall and slim with a boyish charm that made him seem a lot younger than we were. I had to admit that he carried the years better than I did. We seemed to be total opposites. He had light, dishwater blond hair and beautiful brown eyes to my dark brown hair and light grey eyes. He always talked about my eyes they were his favorite things about me; he claimed. At least that was what he told everyone else. But in private, Steve loved my ass.
That was one of the things that told me he loved me. My body was average at best. I'd had a tough time becoming comfortable in my skin. My boobs are a generous C cup, but it was my ass that drew men to me. Long before I knew what a Kardashian was, I could have been one.
I used to dress in long flowing skirts to hide my ass. It was Steve who told me how sexy it was. I had always noticed that a lot of older men got funny looks on their faces around me, but I'd never known why. I had always hated my ass.
In some ways I blamed my mom. I had her shape. She was happy with it. My daddy couldn't keep his hands off of her. I used to feel sorry for her when I was growing up. I'd come into a room and find them lying on couch, or sitting together and he'd be grabbing and squeezing her ass. As soon as they saw me she'd quickly push him away or he'd look up at me and move his hands.
To be truthful, when I was very young, I was embarrassed by it. None of my friends had parents who were constantly feeling on each other. They all had parents who were polite to each other, but that was it. Their parents were just like the ones in our story books. I was the one who ended up with the crazy parents.
As I got older, I realized that I was the lucky one. My parents, even into my teens, were so in love with each other that they still did things together. They REALLY loved each other.
I on the other hand was an awkward girl. I was uncomfortable with my body. I wanted to be a waifish slip of a girl like a lot of my friends. I also loved that athletic but busty look that a lot of the cheerleaders had.
I met Steve when I was twenty. He was a business major and I was just attending college. I had no idea what I wanted to do. And after two years of wasting my parents' money with barely middling grades, I was still taking a lot of liberal arts classes.
I was sitting at a table at the student center with my best friend Liz when I first saw him. Liz was a tall skinny girl with big glasses and no boobs. But somehow she exuded sex. I think it was because a lot of guys saw her long legs and imagined those legs wrapped around them. The fact that she has no boobs had never occurred to her.
She also had a friendly outgoing nature and a bright, sunny personality. She could get away with things that would mortifying other people. So when she stood up and left me at the table in mid sentence, I was unaware of her plans.
When she returned to our table dragging a man behind her, I was sure that she was in the process of making yet another conquest.
As she forced him into a seat, I laughed. "Ya got another one huh, Lizzie?" I said.
"Nope," she said. "This one is yours."
.... There is more of this story ...