Her Confession

by S. Valentine

  She slid to her knees, and the tears fell freely as she cried hysterically. Asshole! He hadn’t been a saint. She remained sitting there in the red glow of the room for what felt like an eternity. When she felt ready to go home, she wiped her eyes, and slowly dragged herself to her feet. She almost jumped out of her skin when she saw a figure leant against the door. Moving closer, her stomach flipped. It was Eva.

  “I heard what happened,” she said, crossing her arms across her chest. “Looks like we’re not so different after all.”

  “We’re very different, Eva. I kissed someone. I didn’t fuck them.”

  “The sin is still the same―betrayal, lies, deceit. You’ve lost him, Gabi.”

  “What? And you think he’ll get back with you?” She snorted. “With the betrayal, lies, and deceit?”

  “There’s hope.”

  “Fuck you,” she spat. “You don’t love Darion. You’re happy to share him.” She shook her head. “I never wanted to share him. Ever.”

  “Because you’re boring, sweetheart. Vanilla.”

  “I’d rather be vanilla than a whore.”

  “Oh, Gabi.” Eva laughed loudly. “Don’t you know that men like a lady in the street, and a freak in the sheets?”

  “Men have fun with women like you,” Gabi said. “They don’t settle down with them, have babies, and live the good life. You’re only as useful as those sex toys over there.” Gabi smirked. “But even those get ‘same old.’ Chemistry and passion dies. Then what do you have left, Eva? From where I’m standing, it doesn’t seem like much.”

  Eva’s mouth fell open.

  “If Darion still loves you, and he wants you back, I promise I won’t stand in your way. I want him to be happy.”

  Eva’s eyes widened in surprise. Her features then softened, as if she suddenly had a newfound respect for her. Gabi wished her luck, and fled out of the playrooms as quickly as she could. She didn’t bother glancing back at the glowing red window as she climbed into a taxi ten minutes later. As far as she was concerned, it was the window to hell.

  Chapter

  Forty-Two

  Gabi kicked off her black Louboutin heels, and tucked her legs underneath her. It was Monday morning, and she couldn’t concentrate on anything. Being without Darion was like missing a limb. She didn’t have him messaging and calling her throughout the day. She didn’t have him to cuddle up to at night. She didn’t have his big, protective arms around her making her feel safe. She missed everything about him―his captivating eyes, his sexy smile, his gorgeous body, his sultry voice. Life was also boring not having a man puzzle to try to figure out, the excitement of spontaneous plans, the dramas he always shared. Everything was back to being dull. Ordinary.

  She had a piercing pain in her heart that wouldn’t go away. She yawned for what was probably the fifth time that day. She had been unable to sleep last night. She kept replaying the confession in her head, how broken Darion had looked.

  She clicked the keyboard of her computer, causing the screen to light up. Maybe if she knew why Darion was the way he was, why he had the desires and fantasies he did, then she could understand him a bit better, and the way his complex mind worked. Or maybe she was trying to figure him out to convince herself they weren’t suited, that she was better off without him.

  She typed in exhibitionism in the Internet browser. Several websites displayed before her. She clicked on one, and read the psychological reasons for some exhibitionists.

  Exhibitionism can be a desire to be observed whilst having sex with other people. The behaviour can be linked to the person having poor social and interpersonal skills.

  This was probably true in Darion’s case, she decided. His parents barely made conversation with him. She continued to read.

  Some individuals are unable to establish a conventional sexual relationship.

  Again, she thought of Darion’s past relationships, which he’d said had been brief, except for Eva, who he married, who was also an exhibitionist, and whatever else.

  Some want attention; and need people to think highly of them.

  Next, Gabi typed in voyeurism.

  Voyeurism, the risk of getting caught appeals to adrenaline junkies. It’s the thrill of it. These types of people may have low self-esteem, and unresolved family conflicts.

  It sounded fitting. Although Darion displayed an air of confidence, Gabi knew he was unsure of his abilities deep down, lacked confidence, and was damaged. His upbringing hadn’t been normal. He didn’t have a good example of what a normal relationship should be like, nor did he know how it felt to have loving parents.

  Although Eva had suggested swinging to Darion, he had continued it when they had separated, obviously becoming addicted to it. Maybe he always would have desired it, but just hadn’t known it then.

  She took hold of her cup and swigged back some of her coffee. A tap came on the door, followed by Mallory entering.

  “Hey, Gab.” She beamed, sitting on the chair opposite.

  “Hi, Mal,” she responded, hoping her tone didn’t come out as glum as she felt. She quickly closed the Internet page.

  “Shit. What happened to you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Gabi, you look as pretty as a dog’s arse.”

  “Thanks, Mal.”

  “I’m sorry, but your hair looks a right mess, you look like you haven’t slept a wink, your nail varnish is chipped all over, so unlike you…and you’ve a coffee stain on your shirt.” She shook her head.

  Gabi glanced down. She noticed a coffee splodge on her shirt. Damn. She hadn’t even realised. It must have happened when she’d hastily picked it up whilst daydreaming.

  “If this is because of a sexy all-nighter with Darion, I might just forgive you.” She laughed.

  “I wish,” she mumbled.

  “Well, how did it go with meeting each other’s family?”

  “My family liked him a lot. And his family were…not nice, at all.”

  “Oh. Why not?”

  “It’s obvious they’re not affectionate, loving, positive, or uplifting in any way, which explains why Darion, deep down, is insecure, scared of commitment, and basically…fucked up.”

  “What a shame.”

  “And I messed up bad, Mal.” Gabi’s head dropped into her hands.

  “What did you do, Gab?”

  She looked up to see Mallory’s worried expression. “Remember when Lawrence took me home that night?”

  “Oh, no.” She shook her head. “That bastard. I knew he would take advantage.”

  “I’m as much to blame, and it was just a kiss. But a kiss, sex―it’s all the same to Darion. I cheated.”

  “Cheated? Gabi, he wants to share you in the playrooms. Why would a poxy kiss bother him?”

  “It’s not necessarily the act itself, but the betrayal of it. Because all he’s ever wanted is a loving, doting girlfriend, who is loyal when he’s not around. And I failed. What happens in the playrooms is an agreement between us. There are rules.”

  “Well, is it over between you both?”

  Gabi nodded. She felt tears blur her vision. She wiped them away hastily. “The kiss with Lawrence meant nothing. I was upset, feeling insecure, lost.”

  Mallory rested her elbows on the table with a long sigh. “Why did you tell Darion? Gabi, for the sake of your relationship, you could have kept one tiny secret.”

  “I couldn’t do that. I felt I owed it him to tell the truth.” She fiddled with her fingernails, her heart drumming in her chest. “Lawrence threatened to tell him too.”

  “I could seriously wring Lawrence’s neck.”

  “He wants me back. For some stupid reason, he thinks that if Darion isn’t in the picture, that I’ll give him a chance.” She rubbed her aching temples. “Do you remember that time when I thought Lawrence had cheated on me, and I first visited The Black Door?”

  Mallory nodded.

  “He did cheat on me. With one of the dancers.”

  �
�What?” Mallory exclaimed. “I knew he was fucking fake.” She walked toward the window and sat on the ledge.

  “And that’s not all. He’s been following me for ages, watching me.”

  “I knew Lawrence was a little strange, but that takes the biscuit.” She shook her head. “I wonder if he knew we’d be at Sasha’s that night.”

  Gabi shrugged. It was a possibility.

  “Have you called the police?”

  “No. I told him I would. It appears he’s backed off with stalking me.”

  “I hope so. What will you do about Darion?”

  “What can I do?”

  “Ring him.”

  “He won’t want to speak with me, Mal. I know it. You should have seen the way he looked at me.” She burst into uncontrollable sobs.

  Mallory stood beside her, rubbing her back soothingly. “It will be okay. Darion will come around. He has to. He loves you.”

  “What if he doesn’t?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’ve never felt this way about someone before. I can’t stop thinking about him. How can I go from Darion to a normal relationship? I’ll always be comparing it, knowing I’m missing out, settling for second best.” She chewed her nail. “I sound pathetic.” She sighed heavily. “I hate the hold he has over me. Why can’t I forget about him, Mal?”

  “Because you’re in love, and you can’t control it. It takes over like some fucking disease.”

  “I loved Lawrence, but it was never this strong.” She kicked the leg of the table. “How could I have kissed him?”

  “Who the hell hasn’t confided in, or sought comfort from an ex before? It’s common. It happens, Gab. If Darion can’t forgive you for something so trivial, then he doesn’t deserve you. No one is perfect.”

  “How are things with you, anyway?” she asked, eager for a change of subject.

  “I’m just counting down the days until we go on holiday.”

  “Is Steve excited?”

  “He can’t wait.”

  “Have you heard from Suzie? I’ve got a bone to pick with her.” Gabi laughed softly. “She gave Lawrence my new number.”

  “Oh shit.”

  “It doesn’t matter. He lied to get it out of her. I’ll need to change it again.”

  “Suzie’s fine, anyway. And pre-warn her next time, so Lawrence doesn’t get it out of her again.”

  “I will.”

  Mallory made her way to the door. “As much as I’d like to stay and chat, I’ve got a load of manuscripts to read.”

  “Same,” she said. “Thanks for listening as always, Mal.”

  “Anytime.”

  When the door closed after Mallory, Gabi picked up her iPhone. She scrolled to Darion’s number, and pressed the call button. Holding it to her ear, she sat further back in her chair. An automated message stated that the mobile was switched off. She contemplated ringing Lexi, and then decided against it. Lexi would be on Darion’s side―she had to be. Drumming her fingers on the table, she called Darion’s office number before she lost her courage.

  “Hello,” a smooth voice purred through the line.

  Gabi ended the call quickly. Eva was answering his telephone. Were they back together? Had she persuaded Darion into giving her another chance? She clamped her lips together to suppress a choking sob that threatened to escape. Before she was able to stand up and head for the kitchen, her mobile rang. She snatched it up.

  “Hello.”

  “Gabi.”

  “I told Darion everything. Leave me alone, Lawrence.”

  “If you need time to think about things, Gabi—”

  “I’m not getting back with you,” she yelled. She slouched in her chair, praying her colleagues on the other side of the door didn’t hear. “I’ll post the engagement ring back to you.” Her tone was now low.

  “I love you, Gabi.”

  “No, Lawrence, you didn’t. You loved the idea of me, of what you wanted me to be. You didn’t love the person I was, for you wanted to change everything about me, from my clothes, to my friends, to my passion for dancing. You wanted me to be a miserable little housewife, raising your children. Our relationship was not only boring, but lonely. We weren’t matched.”

  “We can work on that.”

  “Goodbye, Lawrence.”

  She ended the call. She made a mental note to purchase a new sim-card again as soon as she left the office. She knew it was probably best if she also left Darion to it. If he wanted her back, he knew where she was. Glancing at the clock, she saw that she had five hours until dance class. She hoped it would help her relax, and make her forget about her problems for a short while.

  Chapter

  Forty-Three

  Darion

  Darion pulled on his helmet, climbed on his bike, and started the engine. Gripping the handlebars tightly, he sped off. He didn’t care where he was going. The sky was black, the roads deserted, and the only sound was the howling wind. He predicted it’d rain. He probably should have taken the Jeep, or his Audi, but he wanted the adrenaline rush he got from his motorbike.

  As he made his way down country roads, he felt specks of rain land on his hands. He drove faster. The wind was sharp against his face, coldly filling his lungs. The green fields passed in a blur. He drove even faster until he could no longer focus on his surroundings. The rain was lashing down now, dripping from his jacket, soaking through his jeans. He glanced up at the grey sky, which reflected his dismal mood.

  He felt a little light-headed, dizzy for some reason. Maybe it was due to the fact he hadn’t eaten a decent meal in days. His stomach churned, and he swallowed the tangy taste that burnt his throat, feeling as if he would vomit.

  He missed Gabi. He loved her, and yet he hated her. Was it his fault she had kissed her ex-fiancé? Had he pushed her too far? His mind was a hurricane of thoughts and emotions. He kept slipping from anger, to hurt, to guilt.

  A flashing light blared in his eyes, and the sound of a loud horn filled his ears. He blinked repeatedly, his vision blinded. Shit! He swerved to the right quickly, and braked. He must have drifted into the wrong lane, lost in his thoughts. His heart slammed against his chest as he caught his breath.

  When his pulse returned to normal and the shock had subsided, he dug into his pocket. He pulled out his mobile. He needed to talk to someone desperately. He couldn’t be left alone with his thoughts. He couldn’t go back to drinking until he passed out, gambling his hard-earned money away. He attempted to call Gina. Pressing the speaker icon, the ringing tones echoed in his ears. His shoulders sagged in disappointment when she didn’t answer. Johnny must have forbid her from talking to him.

  Stuffing the mobile back in his pocket, he decided he’d go to the club. Perhaps work would take his mind off Gina, Eva, and Gabi. He just realised that he’d lost them all.

  ***

  It had been a couple of weeks and Darion hadn’t heard a word from Gabi. He was slightly surprised. Maybe he hadn’t meant anything to her at all. Perhaps she had gotten back with her ex-fiancé. He slouched in his chair, and reached for a cigar. Placing it between his lips, he picked up his lighter and lit it.

  Only when he’d smoked it, did he lean forward, and switch on his computer. He checked his bank account online. The club was doing amazing. Profit had tripled. Even still, it didn’t lift his mood. What was the point in having money if he had no one to share it with, no one to spoil?

  He closed the Internet browser, and spent the next half an hour checking that membership applications matched identification cards. He then put in an order for fifty black plastic membership cards, emblazoned in gold swirly writing. When in receipt, he would then post them to the new clients, along with a welcome letter and an invitation to the club.

  “Daz?”

  He straightened his posture when he heard a knock at the door. Lexi walked in, closing it gently behind her.

  “Hey, boss.”

  “Hi, Lex.”

  “How’s it going?” She thr
ew him a sympathetic look.

  “Not good,” he admitted. There was no point in lying about it. He knew his appearance gave him away. He had a few days’ old stubble covering his jaw, his eyelids felt heavy, and he knew his face was paler than usual. No matter how long he slept, he still felt exhausted, and he lacked motivation. Lexi had bought him some vitamin pills, and offered to cook for him each day, but he’d declined. He’d well and truly lost his appetite.

  Pulling out a chair, Lexi sat opposite him. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “I don’t know what sort of help I need, Lex. It seems like history repeats itself over and over in my life.” He sighed heavily and rose to his feet. “Fancy a drink?”

  “No, thanks.”

  Darion poured himself a generous glass of whisky. Taking a large swig, he resumed sitting at his desk.

  “What am I doing wrong, Lex?” He tapped his fingers on the surface. “It seems I either love too much, or not enough.”

  When it’d come to Eva he had declared his feelings endlessly. Having been without love growing up, he’d sure taken advantage of her showering him with affection, the way she had been unable to keep her hands off him, wanting to bed him all of the time. He liked the way that love had made him feel. Being able to look after someone else, care for them, and put them before himself felt rewarding. It made him happy. Eva, on the other hand had hated it. She had told him he was needy, made her feel suffocated. With Gabi, he had tried to tone his feelings down a bit, hide how much he really adored her, by not saying the four letter word too often, and it had got him nowhere. He couldn’t win.