Dancing With Devia

by Viveca Benoir

“No. No. Make yourself at home. Thanks.”

  Even from the kitchen Devia could hear her sobbing and she smiled openly. She was opening the kitchen cupboards and had found a cup with the name ‘Julian’ on it. She caressed the cup and placed its lip to her mouth. The next time he drank from this mug, he would inadvertently be kissing her. To be sure, she put her lips in various places on the mug, so that wherever he drank from, she had already placed her mouth there. She put it back and carried on making the coffee.

  When Devia went back into the living room with two steaming mugs of coffee, she smiled sweetly at Crystal. Sitting down, she asked ,

  “So what did he say? Did he deny it?” She tried to look innocent without appearing smug.

  “Of course he denied it. It was so obvious.”

  “And then what?”

  “I made him shower. I won’t speak to him again.”

  “Really? Hmm, well you are right to do that.” Devia was thinking of Julian naked in the shower, placing his hands where her lips had been, where her pussy had left its juices. A trail of her crazy love all over his body. She owned him. She had marked her territory with her essence. She was like a wolf that had marked its territory. She had marked Julian as hers. No other woman would stand a chance now. She shivered with sexual excitement at her memories of the day before.

  Then suddenly remembering where she was she tutted to Crystal.

  “Why on earth would he have an affair? You’ve been together years.”

  “I don’t know! I feel so betrayed.”

  “He doesn’t deserve you, you know.” Crystal looked up as Devia spoke. She had such a trusting look in her eyes. “Yes, think about it. You have given him the best years of your life. When you met him, you were slimmer, better looking. Why, you told me at work that you were a model and aspiring actress when you met. Now look at you; your body is ruined by having children, by bearing his children, for him. What about you? Your needs, your dreams? You could have been rich and famous, you know.”

  Devia paused to see her words hitting Crystal. Every word was like a drip of poison. Drip, drip, drip, drip. Crystal was oblivious to the negative seed planting of words on her empty field of a mind. A mind that, years ago, had held dreams of stardom, of glamour, of fame and riches. A mind now filled with thoughts of washing socks, and kids’ clothes.

  “You poor, poor dear.” She whispered into Crystal’s ear as she leaned in close . Devia let her words sink in.

  Words that would soon grow and fester. Words that would haunt Crystal’s dreams and her every waking thought. She continued. “Ok, so you haven’t lost all the baby weight that you gained over the years, but that is not the point.” Devia patted her shoulder, almost banging the words into Crystal as she spoke. “You gave him all you had, everything, and how does he repay you? With an affair? Really? That is just downright callous.” Devia raised her voice and pitch. She spoke with vitriolic incredulity. She spoke with a fervour that was bordering on hysterical. Crystal looked on, aghast at hearing Devia say the actual word ‘affair’ to her. It was as though it were now suddenly real, suddenly true. It stabbed her, right through the heart. “You are so right, Crystal. He doesn’t deserve you, at all.”

  Crystal went to say something, but Devia stopped her.

  “No Crystal. No. Don’t make excuses for him. You need to get answers. Like - who is she? How long has this been going on? What does she offer him that you can’t?”

  “I don’t know.” Crystal stammered, getting even more upset than she had been earlier.

  “Well you need to find out. You need to ask him. No, demand from him who she is. And if he gives you lies and denies it, as he will, you must not let up. You must keep on, and on, until you get to the bottom of this. It’s your right as his wife.” Crystal nodded and Devia rewarded her with a supportive smile. “Now, I know this is difficult for you, but know you are not alone. Loads of women find out their husbands have been cheating on them . Y ou just have to decide if you are going to be his doormat, and let him walk all over you, or whether you are going to stand up for your rights as his wife. He made vows to you and he broke them.”

  Crystal nodded again.

  “I shall be here to support you, dear. I am your friend. If, he loves this someone else, then he has to face the consequences, and admit it, or you will leave him. Leave him, you hear me? You have to. You owe it to yourself.”

  Crystal sobbed again.

  “I just can’t believe it.” Crystal said, as she held her head in her hands. “I never thought he would ever betray me in this way…”

  “He’s a man, they all do. Men are bastards, he is no different from all the rest.”

  Devia put her arm across her shoulders, she felt a perverse pleasure in knowing that she was doing so, and that Julian had no idea she was there ‘consoling’ his wife, for something he hadn’t even done. Not consciously, anyway. She smiled to herself again. She leaned in, and kissed Crystal on the side of her head. In a tender motherly way, but this kiss, was the slow kiss of Judas.

  “Poor baby.” Devia said softly, as Crystal leaned into her and rested her head on her shoulder. Devia smiled again. She toyed momentarily, with the idea of drugging her and ‘playing’ with her. Much as she had done with Julian the day before, but then decided that she needed her wide awake, and raw with angry emotion, so that she could verbally attack Julian when he returned. She needed her convinced, furious and raging for when he got home. She wanted the anger to grow, and grow, before then. She was going to destroy Crystal and her relationship with Julian, day by day, until she got Julian all to herself. She wanted Crystal to drive him away, or leave herself. Either way would be good, as long as Julian was left unguarded and single.

  Crystal was still in shock and bewilderment. She had the same look that you see in old sepia photographs of the soldiers who came back from the First World War. A haunted look that spoke of horror and things they would not forget. While this event was not on the same level or scale of that trauma, she felt that Crystal gave her the same dead eyed, traumatised look. Devia revelled in every tear and every little hurt that Crystal was feeling. She wished that she had brought her camera with her so that she could film this moment and replay it over and over again at home. Crystal’s misery was delicious. It would make wonderful material for her to masturbate to later.

  “Oh, Crystal do you mind if I use your bathroom?” she asked almost brightly.

  “No of course not. It’s through there.” Crystal pointed down the hall.

  “Ok. You stay right there and rest. I’ll be back shortly.”

  Devia stood up, taking her bag with her to the main family bathroom. Next to the bathroom was a door that was slightly ajar. Devia slowly pushed the door open a little and was rewarded with the sight of their bedroom. Slipping quietly into the bedroom, she found herself standing by their marital bed. This was where she imagined that he lay naked. She caressed the sheets on the unmade bed, her hands slowly smoothing over them. She leaned down and sniffed them. She could smell him on them, his sexy, sweet sweat. She would never forget his musky manly scent, mixed with aftershave. She picked up his pillow and kissed it, then replaced it where she found it. She wished she had time to undress and lie there naked to wallow in the sheets, but knowing time was short , she went over to the large heavy chest of drawers and opened the top drawer. She found it was his underwear and socks drawer and took out a pair of socks to add to her collection. Then, taking the envelope from her pocket she placed it at the back and on the right hand side. It was hidden by some items, but still visible if you really looked. She knew that he wouldn’t pay much attention to this. She knew from previous experience, that men just took what they wanted. It was the women who put the laundry away that noticed these things. She slowly, and quietly, shut the drawer and then went through to the bathroom and flushed the toilet to make it sound as though she had used the facilities. She ran the tap for a few moments to complete her deception and then went back to the living room to where
Crystal was still wrapped up in her own little shocked and sad world.

  “Crystal dear, I have to go now. Remember what I said…and you must stand up for your rights. You need to know what’s going on. If he denies it, and he will, know that you are right. By denying it, he is effectively saying it’s true and he is guilty.”

  Crystal nodded and started to cry all over again.

  “No, don’t cry dear. You must be strong. You have to do this. And remember, everything he says will sound plausible. That will be because he is lying again. He will have had time to make up a story…so don’t let him off the hook.”

  “Yes. Yes, I will remember. I won’t forget. Thank you, Devia. I really appreciate it.”

  “Good. If you need me, just call me, ok?” She handed her a piece of paper on which she had just written her home number. It matched the number on the envelope she had just hidden in his sock drawer. It wouldn’t take much to work it out once the doubt set in. She knew that Crystal would go through everything that Julian owned; his clothes, his jacket, his car, his phone; searching for evidence to back up her suspicions. She knew too, that once the shock wore off, a suspicious wife was a better detective than anyone, even a CSI forensic team, if she suspected her husband. The house would be turned over and everything searched, high and low until evidence, whether real or imaginary, was found.

  “Yes, thanks Devia. You are a true friend. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “Aw, come here.” Devia hugged her tightly and smiled over her shoulder. She looked about the house at the furniture, and the pictures on the walls. Soon, all that Crystal owned, would be hers.

  Devia wanted to skip all the way back to her car, but instead, walked confidently back and got in. She was about to drive off when she saw Julian driving down the road towards her car. He was returning home, and she was leaving, not a moment too soon.

  ‘Mine,’ she thought; ‘he’s all mine and soon.’ She turned the key in the ignition and drove off. Julian was just turning into his driveway as she turned the corner. He never even saw her.

  Chapter Five – Julian

  Julian turned into his drive and sat in the car for a moment before he got out. He felt mentally and emotionally exhausted when he got home. When he had left earlier, he had nowhere he needed, or wanted, to go. So he had gone back to the marina to clean the boat. He felt he needed to do something, because he couldn’t stay in the house. Or watch his wife crying any more. But, even there, he was pacing like a caged, stressed tiger. Originally, he wasn’t going to do it until Friday, but he couldn’t bear the thought of Devia’s sickly strong perfume permeating the fabrics of his boat. He wanted to burn the sheets she had been sleeping in.

  Eventually, he had no choice, but to go where he felt happiest. Home.

  He put the key in the lock and let himself in. Crystal looked at him angrily as he walked through the door and glowered at him. He had never seen her look that angry before. It was a total character change from earlier that morning and he was taken back. He almost backed out and left, but he knew that whatever was going on, had to be resolved. He wondered if it were a simple case of premenstrual tension. Unfortunately, he couldn’t ask, as that was a danger zone for all men, when their women were upset. If it was PMS, then she would go off like a volcano and he would be in the doghouse for stating the obvious. And if it weren’t, he would still be in the doghouse because it would put her in a mood because he had even suspected that and was calling her hormonal. He felt that men could never win, from the moment they entered into a relationship with a woman. Any relationship, was always going to be fraught with miscommunications about everything. He was no different from all the men, and she was no different from all the women. They just spoke two different languages, and as much as he tried to speak her language, he never could, unless he grew breasts and cut off his dick. He was logical. She was emotional. And that was all there was to it.

  “Honey? You ok?” He gingerly walked inside the house.

  “Ok? You ask if I am ok?” She snapped at him.

  “Yeah honey.”

  “Honey?” She spat the words back at him. “I despise you.” He had always called her honey and now it was as though he were verbally abusing her, like calling her a cunt, or something.

  “What?” Julian hadn’t a clue what was going on.

  “You know? I want to know too. I want to know every sordid little detail of your sordid little affair, with whoever this slut is.”

  “But honey…” She picked up her empty coffee mug off the table and threw it at his head, barely missing him. He ducked, just in time. “I don’t understand,” he said.

  “Oh you understand all right.” She pulled herself up to her full height. I am not going to sit here and take this. I want to know everything that is going on. If you want to save this marriage, then you had better start explaining.”

  “But there is nothing to explain!” He walked towards her, his hands facing up in surrender, as he spoke.

  “Don’t give me that. I’m not stupid. You stay out ALL night, and then come back in the morning smelling of another woman and you suddenly think I am stupid, or something?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Yes you did! You were out all night. Are you denying that too?”

  As soon as she spoke, he knew he had walked right into a verbal trap. A trap that, whatever he said, would now be thoroughly analysed and examined. Every word, suddenly becoming the sword of Damocles to his life with her.

  “Of course, I was out all night. You know that. I told you what happened.”

  “I know you were out all night, you fucking bastard. I know that.” Her voice raised in anger and volume, her pitch getting higher as she was getting more and more emotional. Julian knew he had to tread very carefully. This very moment in his life was the proverbial ‘where angels fear to tread’. He didn’t know who had first come up with that, but whoever it was, was obviously married and this was the situation he was talking about. Julian now found himself about to walk through the ‘marriage valley of death’ and he feared the evil. He feared it very strongly. It made no sense to him at all.

  “Honey, calm down.” He tried to placate her, but she would have none of it. He put his hand out to touch her and she flinched away from him.

  “Don’t you dare touch me. To ‘calm you down’ as you say, then persuade me to have sex with you so everything will all be forgotten. Because it won’t.” He looked perplexed at her interpretation of his effort to comfort her. “I’m not playing that game with you anymore. It might have worked in the past, but not now. You are not touching me until you tell me everything.”

  Julian wished he had a confession. Something, anything to tell her. But the honest truth was he didn’t and this was starting to get out of hand. He had no idea what to say or do. They stood there looking at each other, silently. He wanted to hold her, he could see she was hurting. But every step he had made towards her as they had been speaking, she had taken an equivalent step backwards and away from him. So he stood where he was, facing her with his hands out, palms up, in a sign of submission and pleading. His face showing his obvious anguish.

  She suddenly sat down, as though the wind just went from her sails.

  “Julian, just tell me.” She said quietly. “What happened?” She looked resigned, tired and exhausted. Her voice was barely a whisper.

  “Honey.” He saw her stiffen as he tried to speak with her. “I am not having an affair.”

  She sighed, a big sad sigh.

  “So are you denying this?”

  “Of course I am.” He took a step towards her and knelt down by her chair. “It’s me. I wouldn’t.” He looked into her eyes deeply, sincerely. He put his hand on her knee and she didn’t remove it. “I love you. Love, love, love you.”

  She wanted to believe him, she wanted to, but there was this thought going around and around in her mind. Devia’s voice repeated it over and over again. ‘Of course he will deny it. That just means he IS guilty.’ S
he shook her head and still it repeated.

  “I want to believe you Ju Ju, I do, but...”

  Julian heard her use her pet name for him, and seeing the door of opportunity opening, he took it. He jumped in with both feet. He leaned forward from his kneeling position by her, and took her in to his arms.

  “I would never lie to you.” He said as he held her close.

  “Don’t hug me.” She pulled herself out of his arms. “We still need to talk about this.” “What is there to talk about?”

  “I want to know everything about yesterday from the beginning of your day to the end.”

  Now Julian felt trapped. How could he explain he went sailing with Devia? Her boss? Even thinking about it now, it didn’t sound right to him. It sounded downright suspicious. And like any foolish man, so began the first little white lies. The lies, a semi truth that would end up tripping up his life and would see him sat on death row, awaiting the lethal injection. He took a breath and started to talk.

  “Ok. I went to the marina, and the clients arrived. They wanted to go to an island, have a picnic, do some touristy things, take some pictures, and come back. You know the sort of thing. I was booked for the whole day.” He breathed in, another deep, long, and slow breath. “I put out the picnic things. They had lunch, which they had brought for themselves. They invited me to join them, I didn’t want to, but felt obliged to. I had one glass of champagne with them. Later, when I went to put the things away, I fell ill and blacked out.”

  “You blacked out?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I just felt odd, heavy and dizzy. The next thing I knew, I woke up and it was dark. I was still lying where they said I had blacked out.”

  “What were they doing in the meantime? Why didn’t they call a doctor?”

  “No phone signal honey.” She nodded. He hoped there was no phone signal. He had never needed to call anyone from there, so wasn’t entirely sure.