What is Love?

by Saks, Tessa

  “Her, upsetting me?” Sam felt relieved and grinned at him. “Oh yes, I don’t want to get upset, and she can be very upsetting. In fact, I wanted to hit the stupid bitch when I saw her—”

  His face tightened with shock.

  “I mean, I didn’t really. I just wanted to. I saw her in the lobby, from far away, and I got so mad, I thought I might do something drastic, but then I realized that would hurt my chances for getting what I wanted. So I decided to leave.” Sam couldn’t admit the real reason was the guards wouldn’t let her in—Jonathan’s stupid orders. “But man, did I want to hurt her. It is so bizarre to see yourself …” Sam stopped talking. The expression on his face advised her to shut up.

  “Well, at any rate,” he said, “I feel it best for you and your husband to avoid any contact with this Miller woman. Nothing good would come of it.”

  “Yes,” Sam agreed. “He should stay away from her, too. You tell him that. You tell him I’ll try and kill myself again if I found out he’s sneaking around with her behind my back.”

  “You still feel the urge to harm yourself? We’d better sit and discuss this.”

  Sam laughed. “Come on, only if he screws around on me. You just make sure he’s clear that she’s off limits, no sex and no phone calls … I’m fine. Really, I am.” Sam looked at him, unsure if he believed her. She smiled and touched his arm. “I am Mrs. J. W. Horvath, after all.”

  ***

  “But Jonathan, when will I see you?” Ellen pleaded into the phone.

  “Listen. I know it’s hard,” he said. “I wish there were another way, I do. I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too.” Her chest tightened. “I was looking forward to spending time with you.”

  Jonathan paused and cleared his throat. “I know. This whole thing, it’s complicated. The psychologist said I’m the reason for her suicide, that I need to be more attentive or she may try it again. She’s very fragile now and anything might—I can’t let that happen. And my kids, God, my kids, they think I’m a monster.”

  “You aren’t. This isn’t your fault, not entirely. You were seduced by a devil.”

  “I was, wasn’t I?” he laughed. “You little devil.”

  “Me? Oh, yes. I guess I am,” Ellen laughed for a moment and imagined Sam, now stuck in Ellen’s life, frustrated and sad, deserving every rotten minute of it. “She won’t try again, I’m sure of it. I mean, not now.”

  “Well, in any case, the first sixty days are the most crucial to get her back to normal. I already feel so damn guilty …” His voice trailed, followed by a deep exhale. “I should have handled this differently.”

  “You mean you should have stayed?” Ellen asked. If only you had, she thought. What could have been, if only …?

  “Hell no!” The force of his laughter resonated into the phone. “No, I should have left years ago.”

  She gasped at the sharp hurtful words, and hesitated, biting her lip. “I thought you stayed all those years because you loved her?”

  “Loved her? God no! I stopped loving her years ago. Ages ago. I stayed because I felt guilty, because I felt bad. I stayed out of habit—oh, I don’t know—it seemed easier to stick with the known, the reliable, the safe—but God, it’s been so damn boring.”

  “Boring? You thought our—it was boring.” Ellen choked on the words. “But all those events, all the parties, the trips … you must have enjoyed—”

  “They helped, sure; being around others always helped. That’s how I survived this long. It’s being alone with her I hate so much.”

  Ellen gulped as sharp, jagged knives stabbed at her on all sides.

  He continued delivering his blows. “She was always dull, so pious and controlled. She thought of herself as kind and caring, but she wasn’t in the real sense of the word. She can be so critical, and it’s hard to take. I never looked forward to coming home or spending time with her. It’s extremely painful at times. We’ve had nothing to say to each other for years.”

  Ellen held back tears. Her voice cracked as she spoke. “So all those years … you stayed because you were afraid to leave—yet hated it?”

  “Yes, it was a huge mistake. If I’d had left earlier she wouldn’t have been misled into believing we were fine, that we were okay. She blames you, but honestly, she was to blame.”

  “My God!” Ellen gasped as she dropped the phone, crashing it onto her desk. She didn’t want to listen to any more. She held her breath and tried to focus on the future, their future. She took a deep breath and tried to let the past flow out of her. She imagined the past dissolving with every exhale. She surveyed the dismal surrounding of her cubicle, the piles of endless paperwork, the pathetic paychecks and her simple coworkers.

  “Sam, you there …?”

  Ellen wanted to scream, but reminded herself to stay calm. “So what happens now?” she asked, as she picked up the phone. “Will I see you at all?”

  “I’ll try, but I think it best to wait a few weeks, even at work. Dr. Sutton insisted I avoid you, that if we were seen together, even innocently, it might push her over the edge—I mean really push her.”

  “That’s not so bad,” Ellen thought aloud.

  “I won’t have that on my conscience!”

  “No. No, you couldn’t have that kind of guilt,” Ellen added, unable to suppress her rage. “That might make people actually blame you.”

  “That’s why it’s also important for me to indulge Ellen now. The doctor said I should give her whatever she wants, even if it seems ridiculous or unreasonable—just make her happy.”

  “Of course. Spoil her rotten, give her everything,” Ellen said, the bitterness in her voice escalating with her rage. “While I got nothing. All I got was neglect, attitude—”

  “What attitude?”

  Ellen remained silent, fearful of adding more fuel to the fire. She stared at the work on her desk and thought about her future.

  “God damn it, what attitude? Lately, I seem to be the one getting all the attitude.”

  “Oh … no. I mean, here I am now, wanting you and I can’t have you and she does,” Ellen said, backpedaling into his favor. “It’s not fair. She doesn’t deserve you.”

  “I know, but she will get better and we will be back on track. In fact, she’s already showing signs of improvement. I think she’s happy again. She’s busy shopping and planning parties and I’m actually enjoying her new attitude. She’s a lot more fun to be around, laughs more and isn’t nearly as uptight and critical about everything. The change is quite astonishing.”

  That was the last thing Ellen wanted to hear. The little devil. “I guess spending time with her isn’t so bad now. No wonder you don’t have any time for me.”

  “Come on, don’t be jealous. It’s just that I am forced to spend a lot of time with her, and since the coma, it’s much easier and more pleasant. You can’t imagine how painful it was before. At least now, I can enjoy myself.”

  “How wonderful for you.”

  “Look angel, we will be together soon. I do want to see you, more than ever. The time apart will be hard for me, but it will also give me time to get my affairs in order.”

  “Oh yes, the money. How’s that going?” Ellen’s blood singed at his deception.

  “I had to stop everything. Besides, it’s better to do it slowly. Look, I didn’t call to fight. Let’s focus on hanging in until next month. I do miss you.”

  Ellen wanted to hang up. She wanted to march upstairs into his office and tear into him. She knew it wouldn’t get her what she wanted, what she needed. Calming herself, she bit her lip and tapped the desk frantically. “Me too.”

  “I imagine you on my lap, here in the office … wearing a sexy white dress … no panties—”

  Ellen couldn’t switch gears. Rage still pumped through her veins. Ellen rolled her eyes. “I can’t wait.” Ellen sat back and threw the phone onto her desk. What did it matter? She was going to be his new wife soon. Yet, she couldn’t ignore the pain of hearing how he
felt. And now, if that wasn’t bad enough, Samantha Miller gets to enjoy his attentions instead of her.

  Oh no! She sat up in alarm. What if she seduces him—as her, as his wife? Her heart beat faster. What if she convinces him to stay? He said she was more fun to be around, more enjoyable. What if he falls in love with her? What if this beautiful body isn’t enough to keep him? Her stomach cramped again. Her life would be here … in that dive of an apartment, with this mind-numbing, tedious job and all that debt and no future. Ellen tried to imagine a life like this. A life without Jonathan, without her children, her home, her friends, her charities—without anything she values.

  Alone with nothing. Nothing except a beautiful young body. And now, somehow, in spite of everything, that wasn’t any comfort at all.

  ***

  Sam sat in the surgeon’s office wearing a miniskirt and low-cut top. She wore tights instead of bare legs to hide the cellulite and ugly veins and her top displayed the most cleavage she could create in her best push-up, cleavage-creating padded bra. She caught her reflection in the mirror and turned away. Seeing that ugly face still made her skin crawl.

  “Dr. Bronson, I want the works. Whatever you can do. New boobs—I must have real breasts, ones that men will love. What can you do with these pathetic excuses for tits?”

  “Mrs. Horvath, you must understand. A woman of your age, your skin has less elasticity. We can only do so much.”

  “But you will do as much as you can, right?” Sam studied him, searching for affirmation. “No! Do more—experiment on me. Not like a freak or anything. I don’t want to look weird … here … this is what I want.” Sam held up a tear sheet from a magazine. “Money’s no problem.”

  He looked at the image. “This is beyond what we can do,” he said, biting his lower lip.

  “I said, money is not a problem, cut away … do whatever you can.”

  “You must be somewhat realistic, I’m afraid.”

  Sam jumped off the bench and grabbed her purse. Her head felt light, almost dizzy. “Then I will find someone who can. I thought you were the best.”

  “Now, Mrs. Horvath, please sit down. There are still lots of treatments and surgery we can do. I just don’t want you to expect—” He held up the image of the supermodel body. “This! And then be disappointed. We must have a bit of realism of what one can expect.”

  “I expect to be the way I was.” Sam stared at him. “I must be young again. I just can’t be wrinkled.” Sam’s eyes watered. She held her breath in an effort to stop the flow. “I just can’t live like this anymore. No one understands, inside I’m young. I’m very young. I’m not this bag of wrinkles. I’m not!” Sam tapped her chest with her hands. “I get sick just touching my skin. It’s like touching an old wool sweater instead of silk. And to look at myself—I can’t. I just can’t.” Sam wiped her eyes. “I want to throw up when I see myself, I want to die.”

  Dr. Bronson grabbed her hands. “I want to help you. I want you to feel young and look young, as young as I can possibly make you.” He handed Sam a tissue.

  Sam smiled and wiped the corners of her eyes with the tissue. “Then do it, Doctor. Please do it. That’s all I ask. Do as much as you possibly can.”

  The doctor detailed a list of procedures that he could do. It wasn’t as much as she wanted but it was a start. He asked Sam to change into a gown and left the room. After several minutes, he re-entered and took her weight, her pulse and blood pressure. He slipped the gown off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor, and took photos of Sam from all angles. Sam felt ridiculous as she stared at her reflection, at the woman wearing a fat suit that was melting. Dripping and drooping. She wanted to tear it off and find her real body inside—her thin beautiful body.

  He set the camera aside. “I will have these enhanced showing how much we can do.”

  “Good. I don’t want to see them before you fix them—God, they should be burned.”

  “A couple of days, then we can proceed to make you young again.” A wide smile spread across his face. “Your file states that you are on blood pressure and cholesterol medication—”

  “I am? No one told me I was.”

  “Haven’t you been taking them?”

  Her face blushed. “Why should I? I feel fine.”

  “I don’t think you understand the importance of keeping your blood pressure under control. That explains your high reading. I can’t perform surgery if you are unstable. Please resume your prescriptions, faithfully.”

  To ease her disappointment, he gave her a small treatment of a new test product called Botox and injections of collagen to her cheeks and lips. Sam felt relief to have accomplished at least something that helped make her look a little better.

  After the doctor’s appointment, Sam rushed to the trendy furniture store Habitat to meet her decorator. Sam knew Patty was disappointed when she didn’t choose her for the renovation, but come on … Patty’s over fifty. Sam wanted a young, trendy house … one that reflected how cool she and Jonathan are now. And that way, she could get the celebrities and trendy, ultra-cool people to come over and party with them—no more of these stuffy old folks.

  So instead of Patty, she pored through Architectural Digest and picked the brightest and youngest star in the decorating world: Matt Black. And finally, after two weeks of picking out furniture, they had decided on a theme: contemporary, sleek and modern. And very expensive.

  Matt was flipping through swatches as Sam approached. “I love them all,” Sam yelled.

  Matt glanced up and jumped to his feet. “But we need to choose,” he said, smiling like a soap star, his handsome face lighting up upon seeing her. “How are you Mrs. Horvath? You look radiant,” he said, air kissing her cheek.

  “I should. I had a bit of collagen injected. My face is still sore.”

  “And your lips, very flattering.”

  “You think?” Sam walked over to a display mirror. “I’m not sure. They do seem puffy.” She tapped her swollen lips. “I guess it’s the contrast, from no lips to full lips. Don’t you think my eyebrows are crooked? I think this one is drooping.” She touched her eyebrows but couldn’t feel anything near her injected forehead.

  “You look twenty years younger.”

  “Ha! Then I need more. I want to look forty years younger.”

  Matt laughed, shaking his pretty head.

  Sam touched her lips again and put a bit more lipstick on. Under the harsh store lighting, the effect of wrinkled skin, a semi-smooth forehead and bright red, puffy lips was creepy, like a melted wax doll in a horror movie. She pulled out a tissue and wiped off the lipstick. “I’m only just beginning. Wait until I’m finished. You won’t believe it. I’ll be so sexy and hot.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  “What’s left on the house?” Sam asked, turning away from her reflection. “I’ve picked out so many things I can’t remember anymore.” Sam walked over to the sofa and sat beside him. “Did I decide on the sofa and the dining table?”

  “Yes. The Menolio with the red and white piping and the white lacquer table with brass.”

  “Right.” Sam clapped her hands. “This is so much fun. I can’t wait until it arrives. Did you book the Painters Who Paint crew? And that one guy, Rory?”

  “Of course. I also hired another team, the one I’ve worked with on every job.” He leaned into her. “Since you are in such an enormous hurry to finish.”

  “When will the paint and wallpaper be done?”

  “In about two and a half weeks—unless you change your mind again.” Matt crossed his arms and gave her a scolding smile.

  Sam picked up the furry pillow and flung it at him. He covered himself with another cushion to block it. “I can’t wait. This will be the coolest house ever,” she said as she picked up another cushion and was about to hit him again. Suddenly, she dropped the cushion and stood, shouting, “Oh … my … God! Matt. A party! I should plan a great big party.”

  “Perfect! Oh, yes. Absolutely.” />
  “Yes, and everyone will see my new look. My new home and my new clothes, and my new body. If I can get a rush on the surgery …” Sam paced around the sofa display. Everyone will be there … then they can see I’ll be okay. And Johnny will be so happy.” Sam sat back, next to Matt. “What a fantastic idea,” she gushed, hugging him.

  This will fix everything. My debut! Her debut into the world as Mrs. Jonathan Horvath.

  CHAPTER 23

  Several days later, Sam lay back and touched her bandages. She couldn’t wait to see her face. The doctor assured her most of her surgery would heal in time for the party, at least enough to cover with makeup. The disappointment of not being able to get nearly as much surgery as she wanted was, at least, offset by getting as much as possible now: new breasts, an eyelid lift, liposuction, a tummy tuck, varicose vein removal, age-spot lightening and a mini face-lift. The rest would have to wait until her body was healthier. As she sipped her water through the straw, she wondered what Jonathan was doing now. He had a trip to LA to see his suppliers and negotiate a military contract in San Diego.

  He will be in for the shock of his life when she gets out of the hospital and the bandages come off, revealing a young beautiful woman. His wife. His new and sexy wife.

  ***

  Ellen sat in a limousine, holding Jonathan’s hand, basking in the unexpected pleasure of a romantic getaway to Los Angeles. It was risky, having taken separate flights, but his wife was recovering for a week in a reclusive hospital after some minor elective surgery and he was desperate to see her.

  Desperate to see me! I have his undivided attention for three days and two nights. Three glorious days and two nights to be alone, to be intimate, and finally, after such a long wait, to feel his love. Ellen had packed, anticipating a weekend of romantic dinners, walks on the beach and nights of passion. She was about to experience the best part of being Samantha Miller—having a young, beautiful, sexy body, one that he desired more than any other in the world.

  As the door to the hotel room closed behind her, Ellen turned to face Jonathan. He looked at her with a mischievous grin and his hand touched her cheek, stroking it, then warm, soft kisses trailed down her neck. Ellen moaned with pleasure as tingles washed over her body, increasing her nervousness, building anticipation and desire.