by S. K. Lessly
“William!” my mother exclaimed but I stopped her.
“No mother he’s right, I don’t belong here. And you never made me feel as if I did. All these years I did so much shit to get the same attention you gave these three and it took me to fuck up in order for you to do it. Yeah, I really feel the love.”
“Lauren Michelle Kelly, you’re being down right ridiculous.” My father admonished and I just shook my head in defeat.
“Is he right father, am I a huge disappointment to you?” I asked him, my voice softening more from deep rooted pain and heartache than anything else. My father didn’t reply. He looked down right flabbergasted, and lost for words so I spoke for him. “You know I know you blame me for the rough pregnancy mom had with me. I even know you never wanted me in the first place, that I was a mistake. Well, how about I fix that for you. You don’t have to ever worry about me anymore. Just forget I ever existed.”
I fumbled with the locked screen door, fighting the tears that were threatening to consume me.
Don’t do it Lauren. You can’t break in front of them.
“Lauren, come on,” Mark pleaded and came up to me.
“Let her go little brother. Good riddance to bad rubbish.”
Enraged and wanting to get the last word, but unable to find the words to throw back at him. I did the next best thing. I reached for my mother’s favorite vase and threw it at him, missing him by inches only because he dropped completely to the ground. The vase crashed against the ground behind him and shattered.
“Do you see that? She’s crazy!” Brian yelled.
“Lauren, that’s enough! Gotdamn it, you’re out of control. You need to leave, now!” I turned to see my father heading towards me, his own body shaking with fury. “Now, Lauren. Out!” He pointed to the front door for emphasis on exactly where he wanted me to go.
My eyes went wide from the sound in my father’s voice, the bass of his voice ricocheted all around me. I fought back the shock and tears and stilled my emotions.
“With pleasure, and don’t worry I never plan on stepping foot in this house again. Consider me dead.” I looked at my father, stupid tears filling my eyes. “Just as you wanted twenty-nine years ago, right, Dad?”
I managed to finally get the screen door open and I stumbled out slamming the front door as I left.
17
Lauren
I was shaking with so much rage I wasn’t sure how I made it down the stairs of my parents’ house. I had never been this angry before in my life. I needed out of that house and city as fast as my legs and jet fuel could take me. The second I slammed the door, I heard my father yelling but I didn’t wait around to hear what was being said.
The tears kept falling, no matter how many times I wiped them away. They were my way of purging all of the hurt and pain I’ve felt over the years. The tears also gave me strength to build the proverbial wall around my heart. Thank god they didn’t see me break. I refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing just how bad they hurt me. God these tears, I could barely see where I was going but I just knew I had to get as far as I could from—
“Lauren!”
Someone started shouting my name behind me, but I didn’t stop moving. I kept going, hoping I would see my rental through the tears still filling my eyes.
I felt someone grab my arm and I turned with my fist in the air ready to break someone else's nose. Mark was smart though and leaned back and put his hands up in defense.
“Whoa sis, calm down, okay. It’s just me.”
My brows creased in my forehead and I breathed out slowly. I wiped my face, my heart still pounding in my chest.
Mark seemed to be waiting me out before he approached me slowly, as if I was some raging wild beast, which in this case I was.
“Let me see your hand?” He finally asked, his voice taking on a gentle tone.
I shook my head. “No, Mark. I'm fine. Go away.” I managed to bit out.
He reached for my right hand anyway and I moved it away. In doing so pain shot up my arm and my wrist started throbbing. I winced automatically but tried to cover my expression. Seeing my brother roll his eyes, told me my attempt failed.
“Yeah, stop being so stubborn and let me see it.” He raised his voice at me for the first time ever and I couldn’t do anything but obey.
He examined it as gently as he could but I still flinched. “You need to go to get your hand checked out. I don’t feel anything broken, but it’s starting to swell so you never know.”
“I’ll be fine.” I took my hand back from his grasp and cradled it to my chest, wincing the whole time. “Why are you here, Mark?”
“What? Where else would I be? You’re my sister and I love you. I’m just checking on you. I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“Yeah, well I’m fine.” I told him, then winced from the pain still shooting up my arm.
We were silent for a minute then he spoke softly, “Please tell me you weren’t serious back there?”
“Oh, I was very serious.”
“Lauren, I love you. You mean the world to me, to my family. I’m sorry about everything back there. You’ve always had my back and I failed you. I didn’t know Sebastian didn’t tell you that he couldn’t have children, I swear. I honestly thought you knew and didn’t care, that you loved him and wanted to marry him anyway. He said he had some type of child accident that resulted in him not being able to produce kids. He said he told you and that you were okay with it. Had I known otherwise I would have told you.”
Childhood accident my ass. Nothing of the sort happened. If it did his mother would have mentioned it and used it as another reason to baby her son. No something else was going on. Did I think my family was telling the truth about Sebastian not be able to have kids? Abso-fucking-lutely. However, the reason he told them was a lie.
Mark stepped closer and wiped the wetness from my cheek with his thumb. “I never thought Sebastian was all you could find. I think you’re an amazing person, smart, beautiful, sweet when you wanna be, loving, and fiercely loyal. Anyone would be lucky to have you in their life. Come on, sis, you have to know that you mean the world to me and my family. My wife loves you and my kids adore you. Don’t make us suffer for William and his stupidity.”
I started shaking my head feeling the tears starting to form in my eyes again and I had to make them stop. I wasn’t a crier. I didn’t cry, especially in front of people.
“Mark, I’m sorry but I’m not stepping foot in that house again, ever!”
I was being dramatic but I didn’t care.
My brother tried to console me by rubbing my arms. He was only making it worse.
“That's fine, you don’t have to, sis? You are more than welcome to come and stay with me. Just please don’t say that I’ve lost you.”
I could see the emotion creeping up in his eyes as he wiped the tears welling up in mine. I hugged him as best I could, despite the pain in my shoulder. He kissed my cheek and hugged me back.
After a comforting few minutes had passed, he pulled back, cupped my face and rubbed my cheeks with his thumbs. “Look, promise me you won’t be a stranger.”
I nodded.
“And go to my office right now and get your hand looked at… No, I mean it. Carlos is there. He’ll be happy to take a look at you, especially when I tell him what happened. He hates Brian.” Mark smiled and I laughed.
“I love you, Mark.” I hugged him again.
“I love you too, sis.” Mark walked me to my rental and stood there until I peeled out of my parking space.
Reluctantly, I did as I was told and made my way to Mark's office, which was close to Drexel University. Mark was right. When I told Carlos who I punched, he did the jig and yelped. He told me about the many run-ins he had with Brian and how much he just despised his personality and his face. I couldn’t agree more. I waited patiently as Carlos took X-rays of my hand and wrist. He told me I sprained my wrist and I needed to wear a sling and keep my arm stable for a coup
le of weeks while I healed. He also told me that I couldn't go around punching anyone for at least a few weeks. Thinking about what I had just learned about the secrets my husband kept from me, and I told him I couldn’t make any promises but I would try.
While he wrapped my wrist with a bandage to keep my wrist from rotating, I called the airline for the next flight out but there was no guarantee I would get out tonight. I wasn’t waiting here for another second nor did I want to camp out at the airport. I did the next best thing, I bought a train ticket on Amtrak. Carlos followed me to the airport so I could return my rental, then he drove me to 30th street station.
I made it to the station thirty minutes before I was scheduled to leave. I took a seat on a hard-wooden bench and again reevaluated my life. It was crazy how my prayers were coming true, but I didn’t expect it to be in this fashion. Sebastian Maxwell lied to me. He couldn’t have kids. As many times as I talked about having kids, did he think I was just going to forget about it?
Thinking back to what Mark said, if I would have known Sebastian couldn’t have kids, would I have changed my mind and not married him? Would it have been a deal breaker? I couldn’t answer that truthfully, but I wanted the option to.
I started to get upset all over again and I needed to talk to the very person I knew would understand me. But unfortunately, he wasn’t talking to me at the moment and I was starting to miss him terribly. I had to come to the conclusion that I may never be able to talk to him again.
I heard my train being called and I made my way to the platform. I called Sebastian to tell him to pick me up at the station in two hours; I was coming home. Of course, he didn’t answer his phone. I left a message giving him the details and when I finally made it to Penn Station in Newark, two hours later, he was nowhere to be found.
Perfect!
It was a little after midnight when I rolled into the station. All of the public transportation to where I lived was done running for the night. I had to pay a taxi to take me home, which again made this whole day wonderful.
When I got home, I saw Sebastian’s car in the driveway. I looked over at Paul’s dark house and wished I was going to see him instead. If nothing else, I just wanted him to hold me.
I grabbed my bag in the wrong hand and flinched. I guess I needed to keep my wrist straighter when I threw a punch. It’s been awhile for me, so I forgave myself.
When I entered the house, I heard some music coming from upstairs. Sebastian probably had WBLS ‘the Quiet Storm’ playing. The instrumental of Luther Vandross’ song ‘House is not a home” trickled down the steps. I shook my head and closed and locked my door. Apparently, Sebastian was so engrossed in his job that he didn’t hear me when I had called him hours ago. Typical Sebastian.
As I walked further inside and placed my bag down by the door, I noticed Sebastian’s clothes were strewn all over the floor. I frowned. He was such a neat freak, always getting on me when I leave my shoes by the couch or by the bed. Why on earth would his clothes be here? Then my answer came fast as I saw a women’s bra on the floor.
I then heard the telltale sounds of a bed squeaking coming from above me. I stood there shocked, trying to make sure my ears were hearing right. After less than a second had gone by, rage pushed me in motion. I darted upstairs feeling my heart starting to beat clear out of my chest. I know this son of a bitch was not…
As I stepped inside my room, my eyes were greeted with a sight that I knew would scar me forever. There was my husband, banging the hell out of someone from behind, in our bed. I mean he was tearing whomever he was banging up something fierce. His knees were bent, sweat pouring down his defined back. Hell, I was jealous for about two seconds before common sense smacked me in the face.
“You fucking son of a bitch!” I yelled and went right for the woman's hair to pull her off my husband's dick. Instead of a fist full of hair though, I had a fist full of wig. My eyes grew as I tried to make sense of the wig in my hand. A small gasp filled the air and I followed the source of the gasp, still trying to make sense of what I saw, to fight through confusion and shock.
You see, there in front of me was a very familiar face; Amy. The fact that my husband was banging Amy wasn’t the cause of my confusion or shock, though. No. I was confused about what I saw on Amy. I gave her frozen in shock body the once over, paralyzed my own self by the contradiction before me.
She scrambled away from Sebastian, bashfully covering her boobs. Okay, she had boobs, nothing strange about that. However, she failed to cover what was hanging… between… her… legs.
Did you hear what I said? She had some things hanging between her legs. A lot of something I might add.
As my mind finally caught up with what I saw, with the reality, the truth, of what I walked in on, blind rage took over any and every rational reaction I could have possessed.
I went on attack and it wasn’t pretty; it wasn’t pretty at all.
“Oh shit, Lauren wh-what the hell…” Sebastian stammered backing away from Amy, creating more distance all the while protecting his private. Smart move on his part I might add. But he had just cause to do so too. It was a natural reaction really, especially when I snatched his alarm clock out of the wall and hurled it, aiming straight for his dick. Which by the way was working just fine, in case you were wondering.
Gah… just the image of him getting off and fucking someone else after the lies and bullshit just made me furious. Not to mention who he was fucking. I lunged for him, grabbed the hand that was trying to block me and punched him in his mouth with my right hand. Pain instantly climbed up my arm rendering my right hand useless. No matter. I graduated to throwing shit; it was more satisfying anyway.
I threw anything I could get my hands on, bottles of cologne, deodorant, watches. Amy jumped up from the bed screaming as a bottle of Sebastian’s favorite cologne barely missed her head.
“Get the fuck out of my house!” I yelled and she obeyed. She ran and possibly fell down the steps to get away from my wrath, I couldn’t be sure. It sure as hell sounded like she was, her footsteps thundered like a heard of buffalo as she ran down the steps.
Sebastian wasn’t as smart. He tried to talk to me.
“Lauren, be reasonable, okay?” He placed his hands up in a calming gesture, his lip busted and bleeding. He forgot for a moment he was naked and talked to me as if I was some deranged lunatic.
Oh wait, I was…
“I didn’t know you were coming home and I—”
“I don’t want to fucking hear it, Sebastian. Get the fuck out of my house you cheating son of a bitch!”
I couldn’t see anything to throw around me so I created objects of my own. I grabbed the drawer from the night stand, dumped everything out and threw it with my left hand.
I didn’t have much of an aim but Sebastian moved out of the way none the less.
“For Christ sake, Lauren, stop throwing things.”
“You are a lying, fucking bastard and I want you out. Now!”
“I didn’t lie to you!”
“What? Yes, you did, you sack of shit.”
“No, I didn’t, you asked if I had ever cheated and I said no and up to that point I didn’t. This was a mistake, okay, please!” He went to reach for me and I headed for the dresser, grab a drawer, dumped the clothes and threw it. This time I almost hit my target.
My face scrounged up in disgust as I imitated his voice. “I'm so stressed, Lauren, I can’t get it up.” I threw another drawer. “Please just work with me. I love you, Lauren. I want to have babies with you!” Another drawer sailed in the air crashing against the wall next to his hip. “You’re a fucking liar!”
Sebastian’s eyes went wide as he jumped in the air, shifting to the left, to avoid the drawer.
Understanding now the severity of his situation he got a clue and hightailed it out of the bedroom. He ran down the stairs and I followed him, grabbing another drawer from the dresser as a parting gift. I aimed for his legs and the drawer crashed against the s
teps, splitting a part. Pieces of wood went flying causing him to stumble on shaky legs down the rest of the stairs.
“Lauren, please. I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Sebastian pleaded. He was putting on his clothes quickly, looking at the object I had in my hand frantically. I had picked up a good piece of the drawer that broke apart on the steps and held it like a knife or a spear.
“Do you think I’m stupid, Sebastian?” I screamed. “You think I couldn’t tell what was going on between you two? I knew something was there. If you preferred being with guys, why didn’t you tell me? I deserved to know that Sebastian.” I made it down the steps and I fixed my eyes on his diminishing form.
“I’m not like that, Lauren, and neither is she.”
I was done with him at that point. I dropped the piece of wood in my hand and grabbed the picture hanging on the wall of our wedding day and I let it fly in the air like a frisbee. It crashed against the door just as Sebastian closed it running for his life.
I collapsed on the steps and cried for the second time in hours. My wrist hurt like a son of a bitch and I couldn’t even make a fist. I was hurt, angry, alone and empty. However, I decided to let the anger bubble over. I went to the basement and grabbed the sledge hammer that Paul forgot to take with him. I walked upstairs to my room and commenced to destroying the bed I just saw my husband fucking someone else on.
I couldn’t really do the damage that I wanted to; I could only use my left hand to trash the footboard and headboard. But my legs were strong and my resolve was stronger. I also went back downstairs, grabbed a butcher knife and stabbed the hell out of the mattress. I did my best to let my anger out and when I was done, I sat on the floor and reviewed my master piece.
I looked at my hand, it was swollen as hell and I knew I needed to take care of it. I decided to drive myself to the hospital but I couldn’t find where I left my keys. I had no one I could call so I walked over to the fire house hoping Paul would be there, but when I got there, he wasn’t. I did get the attention of the Paramedics and they gave me a ride to the emergency room.