by DC Renee
“I … I just … that’s …” I had rendered him speechless. It was kind of nice. And then he started chuckling. “You know, if you wanted to get me on my back, there are better ways to do so.”
I should have been offended, but I had already mentioned that the things he said toward me after “The Dream Event” didn’t affect me the same way they used to. So I couldn’t help the laughter that escaped my mouth and the playful banter that followed. “Technically, you crashed into me. Next time you want to fall at my feet in worship, you can skip the part where you try to bash my head.”
“I’ll remember that,” he joked. We remained laughing for another minute or so and then our amusement slowly died down as we realized I was still lying on top of Enzo, only my head was propped up, but so was his. His face was so close to mine. If I just scooted up his body a bit, I could lay claim to his lips. I could brush my soft torso along his hard one. I would feel every inch of his skin through his thin t-shirt and my even thinner tank top.
“I … uh … I didn’t see you.” He tried to break the silence that had formed, but I could tell he felt the same tension I did by the way his muscles bunched under me. “I’ll pay attention next time.”
“Right.”
I didn’t know if I actually wanted him to make a move or not. I didn’t, yet I did. I had recently turned twenty and had never had more than a few stolen kisses, one of which had been a coerced one from the man currently under me. I blamed hormones and inexperience for my reaction. I no longer hated Enzo, especially if I could forget my wedding night existed, which I had managed to do, but I certainly didn’t like him. I appreciated his beauty, and clearly, my body did, too.
He cleared his throat and the daze was broken. We managed to untangle ourselves as if the other was on fire and we didn’t want to get burned. An appropriate metaphor, if you ask me. Not that it mattered to me since I was already in the red zone just by simply being married to Enzo.
“Well, uh, do you need me to call a plumber?”
“No, I got it. I just need a few more minutes and it will be good as new.”
“Really?” Again with the surprise.
“Yeah, really.” I smiled.
“That’s cool. Uh, thanks. Well, I’ll leave you to it.” And he did.
Twenty Two
Enzo
Holy shit, Paige was hot. Paige. Was. Hot. My body had already known that from the first minute I saw her, but my mind was slowly catching up. Her feistiness was getting to me; I appreciated her stubborn streak and her unwillingness to back down; I was in awe of her determination and work ethic; I even begrudgingly admired her loyalty to that stupid boyfriend of hers. But she could also handle a wrench? The fact that that sentence sounded like a sexual pun was not lost on me. I was a guy, and let’s face it, guys had two brains, and the one upstairs was the backup.
I fought everything inside myself not to grab Paige and slide her up my body so not just our bodies crashed into each other, but our lips as well. And then, of course, back to our bodies, but sans clothes the second time. I told her once that the next time I’d touch her would be because she had asked me for it. My sentiment behind the words had been different at the time, full of fire and anger, but the meaning still resonated with me. If she wanted me, it was going to be her making the first move.
I walked around with a hard-on for a full day after that until I caved and found a woman to satisfy my needs. I didn’t know when it started but finding a different woman in my bed each week hadn’t been as appealing as it had been before. I didn’t say it stopped me from doing so; it just didn’t fulfill me the way it used to.
Almost a month after Paige had fixed the sink, I realized just how much she had been affecting me and even changing me. And it had started before even that day. I was getting softer. I couldn’t have that. That wasn’t who I was. And it pissed me off that I had started becoming some kind of pansy-ass toward her.
I started snapping at Paige constantly, more than I even had before. She took it with a smile on her face. A fucking smile. That enraged me even more. So naturally, everything she did upset me. I found her cleaning up the living room one day, actually cleaning, like dusting the furniture with a vacuum to the side. I might have liked her initiative if it was any other time, but it pissed me off that my wife was acting like a blue-collar worker rather than someone who came from money, especially since a cleaning lady came twice a week. Let’s not forget that she was singing and dancing. I had come to like it recently, but at that moment, I was reminded of how tempting she was, but also how out of reach she was, too. I hated it. I hated her. No. I didn’t. Not anymore, but I felt the need to.
“What the hell are you doing?” I yelled. She jumped, and like a slow motion movie, the vase she had been dusting came tumbling down, shattering into a number of tiny pieces. Forget the fact that it was an accident. Forget the fact that I had been the one to startle her and cause the vase to break. Forget the fact that I didn’t actually give a damn about the stupid vase. My mother had hired some decorator to spruce up the place before either Paige or I moved in, and nothing in it was of consequence to me. Forget that I didn’t truly hate Paige.
“Look at what the hell you did!” I screamed.
She had gotten used to my harsh words, but I hadn’t yelled in a while. I could tell it hit Paige like a wall of bricks. The emotions on her face went from shocked to appalled to scared in a matter of seconds. I hated that she was frightened of me, which pissed me off even more. What did I expect, though?
“It … it was an accident,” she stuttered. My heart clenched tightly, but I couldn’t stop myself.
“It wasn’t an accident, little girl. You can’t accidentally start cleaning up the living room. Why in the hell were you doing that? The maid comes twice a week! That’s not your job. Your job is to look pretty and dote on me.”
“She didn’t come yesterday because she was sick. I didn’t want you to have to be in a dirty house.” Her earnest reply and the sincerity in her soft voice almost had me cracking. Almost. I was a grade-A asshole and I knew that. Paige should have known that, too. I didn’t want her getting false expectations about me. I knew her hopes and dreams, and I wasn’t any of them and never would be.
“If I wanted you to fucking clean, I’d tell you to fucking clean. Now, Paige, you may clean up the goddamn mess you made.”
“You’re acting like an asshole,” she whispered, reiterating what I had just thought to myself.
“Yeah, little girl, I am an asshole.”
I turned to walk away when she called out. “I said acting like an asshole, Enzo. I never said you were one.”
I turned back and stalked to her. “This is me. I figured you’d be used to it by now.”
She sighed as if she had been fighting with a child and didn’t have the energy to continue. Who in the hell did she think she was? Or better yet, who in the hell did she think I was?
“I don’t have the energy to argue with you, Enzo, and I doubt you do, either. I’ll clean up this mess, and I’ll leave the rest of the house alone. Just please … please leave me alone for now.”
I was struck silent. What in the hell?
“Please,” she repeated. “Being married to you is an emotional roller coaster, and as much as I want off, I know I will be stuck on this ride forever. So all I’m asking you right now is a small stop between turns.”
I couldn’t think of a proper retort. I couldn’t move my mouth to speak. I desperately wanted to argue with her, punish her, spank her … maybe that was more on the sexual side. Things were starting to blur.
“Just make sure you clean up this crap.” The reply was weak, but I needed to say something. She nodded and I walked away.
Twenty Three
Paige
The rest of the year had flown by at the speed of light. I had been married to Enzo now for more than two years. Birthdays passed as regular days, we spent holidays pretending to be a happy couple, family dinners were awkward, and every
day was different from the last, but always filled with hot and cold emotions from Enzo, and maybe from me as well. I felt like a broken record, but our life was like Groundhog’s day – practically the same day on repeat. We’d argue, we’d fight, we’d be civil, we’d be happy sometimes, we’d avoid each other … always the same thing. Yet there was a little less tension and a lot more, “Why are we doing this?” since “The Dream Event.”
Enzo even had some redeemable moments throughout that time, times when he was a little more than civil, more like nice. We ate dinner together on several occasions, mostly in silence; we didn’t leave the room when the other walked in; he didn’t sneer when Chandra or Lynn came over, but he didn’t hide his disdain for Luke, which still thrilled me. Enzo even said his three loving words less, although he never stopped and I doubted he ever would. We were slowly becoming more like acquaintances instead of just roommates. It made life more bearable, and I was actually able to kind of forget my dreams and ambitions when it came to love. Kind of. When I saw a happy couple on the street, my heart shrank, but at least when it was part of my daily routine, it didn’t come to the forefront of my mind.
And then it all came crashing back January first. We spent all the major holidays with Enzo’s family, acting happy and loving in front of a few dozen of their closest friends. I actually relished those days because I didn’t have to worry about spending them alone, with my family who still didn’t seem to realize I wasn’t truly happy, or crashing my friends’ events. Plus, I got to live my dream for a few hours.
Nora came back for holidays whenever she could, but ever since she had started dating Damien, she spent most of her free time with him. It didn’t help that she had just finished college and decided to stay after landing a good job. I figured Damien was a major contributing factor to her decision not to move back home, but I never said as much.
Enzo and I had a pretty good New Year’s Eve with his family. It must have been the champagne or the spirit, but we ended up talking about some of the shenanigans we witnessed in the car rather than our usual tension-filled silence. My happy mood might have also had something to do with the kiss we had shared. The previous New Year, we got away with a kiss on the cheek while no one was looking. This year, we did the same, but his mouth was awfully close to mine, and I swore his lips lingered on my skin. It sent a shiver through me, which I hoped he hadn’t noticed.
We hadn’t kissed since the previous Christmas, but every time I thought of it, my heart beat erratically. I often wondered if Enzo thought about that kiss.
When we made it home, we said an uncomfortable good night and made our way to our separate rooms. The next day, I woke up way too late. My mouth felt like cotton thanks to the four glasses of champagne I’d had, and my head wasn’t too pleased with me. It took me a good hour before I felt somewhat sane. It was right at this time that my phone rang and Nora’s lovely face appeared on the screen.
“Happy New Year,” I started to say but was cut off by a screaming Nora.
“I’m engaged!” she shrieked.
“Wha ... what?”
“Damien proposed at midnight!” Her words were so high-pitched that it was almost hard to hear her. Almost. My perfect sister, the same one who I tried to live up to and failed, the same one who stepped up and became my best friend when I needed her the most, the same one who got to live every single one of her dreams—just got one of mine.
“That’s great. I’m so happy for you.” My enthusiasm was forced. It wasn’t that I wasn’t happy for her. I really and truly was. It was that I was unhappy with me. It was a reminder of the goal I wasn’t ever going to reach, the illusion that was a smokescreen, the life I wasn’t going to live … the life I wasn’t meant to live.
She told me all about his perfectly romantic proposal. He convinced the coffee shop owner where they met to let him have the place for the evening. He covered the walls with pictures of them and set out the same scone she’d had the first time he laid eyes on her. He went behind the counter and made her favorite coffee, but when he came back, he got down on one knee, with the coffee in one hand and a box in the other.
“It’s midnight and I want to start this year off right, so I’ll trade you,” he had said. “I’ll give you the coffee if you give me your hand.”
Needless to say, the coffee was forgotten.
After we had hung up, the tears started flowing, and I called Chandra.
“Happy New Year,” her cheery voice rang out. She and Luke had stayed in town for New Year’s, both saying they’d had enough of their families.
“Nora is engaged,” I blubbered.
I was not sure how Chandra even understood my words, but the next thing out of her mouth was, “I’ll be there in twenty.”
She looked like she had literally gotten out of bed and ran all the way to my home. It just made me love her and appreciate her friendship all that much more. She even left Luke at home to comfort me the way only a girl could. And comfort she did; for two full hours, she listened to me bitch, moan, whine, cry, and a number of other unflattering emotions.
After I had dried up all my tears, and I calmed down a bit, Chandra headed out.
“You’re going to find love,” she told me as we stood by the door.
“And even if I do, what’s to come of it? I can’t give any guy the life he deserves. I can’t be with him, marry him, anything that someone who loves me would want.”
“If the guy truly loves you, he’ll take you any way he can get.”
“And if I truly love him? Don’t I set him free?”
“Stop this!” Chandra scolded. “You are way too pessimistic.”
“I’m realistic.”
“Don’t let this get you down, Paige. You will find love.”
“Yeah, tell that to my husband,” I answered with disdain. “Okay, okay, enough of this talk. I’ve taken up enough of your time.” I switched gears.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
“Yeah. Thanks for coming. It means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me.”
“Same here, Paige. Call if you need anything.”
“Thanks.”
She walked out the door and I turned to find Enzo standing off to the side, a smug smile on his lips.
“Trouble in paradise?” he asked amused. Just great. Exactly what I needed. Enzo overhearing my conversation about love with Chandra. It only vaguely hit me that his words seemed to echo his thoughts that Luke and I were having issues. I didn’t care, though. I didn’t need his haughty attitude or his arrogant comments.
“Enzo, I really don’t need your shit right now.” Shit wasn’t a horrible word, but it was a curse word, and those were rare with me. I saw Enzo’s eyes widen and the self-satisfaction seemed to fade.
“What the hell, Paige?” His question was meant to put me in my place, but his tone screamed worry.
“Just once … God,” I threw my arms up in frustration. “I’ve had a shitty day, and for just once, I need you to be nice to me. For one damn minute, stop being your superior self and be nice.”
He walked slowly toward me, but not in his usual stalking way, just a casual stride.
“I’m sorry you had a bad day.” His earnest words surprised me, only surpassed by the sincerity I heard in his voice.
I didn’t have the words to answer, so I just nodded. We stood in silence for a few more seconds, but it wasn’t tense or uncomfortable; it was calming, allowing me to forget my pain for a moment, too focused on the situation at hand.
Enzo made a show of looking at his watch then lifted his head back to mine, a huge smile plastered on his face. “Time’s up, little girl. Your one minute’s up. Now, go run along and do something useful.”
I couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up my throat. It was his way of cheering me up and I was grateful. He knew exactly how to get my mind off things without even knowing he did so. His words were harsh, but his tone was playful. It was exactly what I needed.
My laughter
seemed to push one out of him, and the next thing I knew, we were both holding our stomachs. It hadn’t even been that funny, but rather one of those moments where the giggles caught you and didn’t let go.
When we both caught our breaths, I smiled at Enzo. “Thank you.”
He nodded in response and stepped to the side to let me walk by and head to my room. I ended up replaying that small window of time with Enzo over and over in my head instead of thinking of Nora’s engagement the rest of the night. It was ironic that the last person I ever expected to cheer me up was the person who did. He was part of the reason I’d never have true happiness, but he was also the guy who gave it to me at the moment I needed it most. I think it was safe to say that “I don’t hate Enzo” turned into “maybe he’s not so bad after all” that day. It was a slow process, but I was starting to like my husband.
*****
It took Nora a couple of months to actually process that she was engaged, and then it kicked in. Every conversation I had with her for the next month or so after that was wedding related. It always felt bittersweet.
Every time she talked dates, color schemes, themes, and every other minute facet that I had planned in painstaking detail for my own nonexistent happily ever after made me want to throw something at her. At the same time, I wanted to give her all my ideas so that at least someone could use them. But I couldn’t bring myself to give her those. I had those hidden away in a scrapbook in my old bedroom at my parents’ house. I knew that scrapbook was going to die a lonely, bitter death, not having fulfilled its dreams, but I wasn’t sharing. It was one of those I can’t have you, but no one else will either situations. I realized I talked about an inanimate object that way, but you had to understand how badly I had built up a perfect wedding and marriage in my life. It had been my savior. Yes, sure I was starting to lighten up on my husband a bit, but he was still only a husband in name, and it certainly didn’t mean he was lightening up on me.