He came back to the discussion before him just in time to hear a major issue that need to be resolved. Instantly he refocused and was in company owner mode once more, in which he stayed until 7pm when he boarded his flight in Brisbane, to return to Melbourne.
Once on the plane he let his mind relax and tune out from everything business. Always at this time his thoughts turned to the same thing - Lexi. He thought about her often, of course, but Fridays were different. On Friday he would touch down at 9pm and that was the beginning of the weekend. His staff around the country knew never to contact him on a weekend - even if a building was on fire, they were to contact the immediate business manager on duty. Nothing that he directly had to deal with, could not wait until Monday morning.
As he sat back in the expansive business class seat he already felt an excitement growing. Always it was the same at this time every week. Two hours of anticipation on the plane, followed by his instruction that he would give to her over the phone when he touched down, and then she would be his to shower his attention on.
It wasn't a usual arrangement, he knew, but inside of him was that same commitment he had made to himself as a child - any woman he was involved with, he would give all of his attention and dedication to, to make sure she knew - without any doubt whatsoever - the level of love, and desire … and great respect … he had for her.
He thought back to when he had last seen her - last night after he had finished work. Always directly after he left his office on a Thursday afternoon, he drove straight to her apartment - a small space of extreme luxury that he had put her up in two years ago when he had realised the depth of love he had come to feel for her - and the depth of which he knew he could not live without her.
When he had arrived she had seemed a little more dishevelled than usual - it was not like her as she was always immaculate when he arrived - but once he was in the apartment and the door was shut, she had become more herself once again, and it drove him wild for her. Just kissing her lips, tasting her … that was all it took for him to feel like he was transported into a world where no such thing as business existed. Nothing existed. No‑one existed. Just the two of them.
He loved her, and only her. And he could never get enough of her. She was, in his eyes, utter perfection. She always had been, from the moment they had met. It had only been three years since that first encounter, but he knew that he was meant to be with her forever. She was his, and he was hers.
The only glitch in his perfect world plan was his wife of twenty years. That was where his best intention of always being faithful to any woman he was involved with, seemed desperately to fail him. He had been faithful to Diana - for seventeen years. He had devoted himself to her, and desired her and loved her - but when he first laid eyes on Lexi, something had snapped inside of him and Diana was not forefront in his head any more. But he had to remain committed to his marriage - he would not hurt Diana. He knew somewhere deep inside of him that he was doing wrong, but somehow, by keeping his life with Lexi so well hidden away, out of the spotlight of the media and everyone else, he did manage to move successfully into this double life.
Lexi knew he was married, of course. No-one who followed news - particularly business news - could not know that. His wife stood by him at every social gathering, news media broadcast and business meeting. Diana was a rock - when he had tried to get ahead of himself and overreach in things that were not a strong enough guarantee, she listened to him talk about things and helped him to come to the right decision.
Yes, he did still very much love Diana. And he did still look at her and see the beautiful woman that she was. And they did still have a perfectly good sex life - she was always eager to encourage him to move into her - to enjoy her body - and over twenty years of marriage they had perfected their movements together and still both happily indulged in it.
But she wasn't Lexi.
Lexi was different.
And even sitting there now, on the plane in the evening on his way home, he was highly aroused. He always was at this time. In his core he was excited to a level that was beyond belief sometimes.
At the sound of the captain declaring they were beginning their descent into Melbourne, he felt the nerves come on. It wasn't long now and he had already decided what instruction he would give her tonight.
Her dedication to pleasing him - to giving in to his requests - was endless. That was one of the things he loved about her - her enthusiasm and desire to make him feel good. To make him feel normal, no matter what he had decided - and instructed - they would do together.
Finally he felt the wheels touch the tarmac, and he licked his lips, imagining how she would feel tonight, and how she would taste.
Walking into the terminal building, he immediately took out his phone, turned it on, and waited for it to connect. As soon as it showed bars of connectivity, he found a quiet, unpopulated area of the airport, as he did every Friday, and dialled her number. He had his instruction rehearsed - through most of the flight he had heard it in his head, over and over, and he was excited to finally be able to speak it out loud.
The line clicked as if the phone was answered, but before he could speak, he heard her voice.
"Hi, this is Lexi. I currently have my phone turned off as I have a horrid flu so am going to bed to sleep it off. Leave a message and I will call you back tomorrow - unless I am still feeling this sick, in which case I shall definitely call you back Sunday," said the voice through the receiver, before there was a long beep, indicating he was welcome to leave a message.
He hung up. No message. His mind was instantly blank, and he found himself immediately panicked. This had never happened. It was new - and he didn't know what to do. It confused him, leaving him to wonder what he was supposed to do now.
It couldn't happen - it couldn't. They had plans. They always had plans on Friday nights. Sick? She couldn't be sick. It was Friday - and they had plans.
He worked himself up into a state on the inside, even though to anyone watching him they would not have seen anything different. He always looked calm and composed on the outside. And most of the time he was calm and composed on the inside.
But not with Lexi.
Lexi was different.
"Mr Kokiri," he vaguely heard a voice behind him say and he turned to see his driver, Toby, standing close to him. "Are you ready to go, Sir?"
Immediately Toby saw something was different about his employer. Something had rattled him - seriously so.
Lincoln looked at him and nodded even though his head was full of … nothing. He followed his driver out to the car and sat in the back, as normal.
"To the usual location, Sir?" Toby asked and Lincoln found himself speechless - for the first time he could ever remember, he did not know what to say. He did not know how to answer a question that was being asked of him.
He had to make a decision about what to do - should he go to her apartment anyway, knowing that she was too ill to even answer the phone? He could still go - he could prove his love to her by nursing her, giving her support and showing how much he cared - even if she was not well enough to please him...
But those words hit him hard. She was not well enough to please him.
That struck a chord with him and helped him to finally speak.
"No, Toby. Tonight I shall go directly home," he said, finding his voice of authority once again. He had lost himself temporarily but now he could think clearly again. Tonight he would get on with home life - he would go home and he would greet, kiss, hug and talk to his wife. Later, he would make love to her. It would not be the same, because she was not Lexi. But it would do.
Until tomorrow.
Tomorrow, Lexi would be well again. He would see her. And she would follow his instruction.
~~~~~
Saturday morning Lincoln woke up early enough to see that it was still dark outside. He was eager to talk to her, to see her, to be inside of her. But it was too early to call. He would put the phone call off until
a more respectable hour. But he was already thinking about her. And as he lay there, staring outward from his side of the bed toward the dark curtains, thinking about her, he was immediately highly aroused again. He wanted to save that for her, but when he felt Diana reach out and put her arm over him, and find him hard, he heard her instantly express through her voice that she had plans for him herself.
Devoted to his wife and not wanting to distress her in any way, he rolled over and on top of her, and with her guidance sank into her, hearing both of them groan immediately. She did not know that being inside her like that, in the early morning dark, her husband was not even thinking about her. He was imagining it was someone else he was slipping into, over and over again.
~~~~~
At 10am he told Diana that he was going for a run and would be back soon. He put on his running clothes, his running shoes, and grabbed his key and his mobile, before literally running out the door.
He ran until he was out of sight of the apartment building they lived in, and in a quiet area of a park nearby. His eyes were wary - he was not a television or film star, or a famous musician, but he'd had enough photos and stories printed about him to know that he equally was not unknown. And he trusted no-one.
It was still too new, this situation - this unknowing - and he found himself nervous as he dialled her number. The instruction was still in his head, ready to be said when she answered.
But she didn't answer.
Again it went to voicemail messaging, and he heard the same message again. The same one as yesterday. It wasn't changed. It wasn't deleted. It was still there.
He hung up. He didn't know what to do - again he found himself confused, like there was a problem in front of him that he did not know how to solve. His life worked on order - it could not work in chaos. And this was chaos. It went against their routine. It wasn't the same as last weekend, or the weekend before … or the almost three years worth of weekends before that.
Perhaps she just needed that one call first to be able to hear the phone, and had picked the phone up too late. If he rung one more time, she probably already had the phone in her hand, and would immediately answer.
He dialled again. And waited. And heard the voicemail message again. Now he was more than just curious - he was distressed. He could feel his inner self becoming upset. No … more than upset - inside he was becoming irate. He became aware of his breathing deepening. His heart pounding inside of his chest. His mind blurred. His sanity questioned.
So he ran. This was something he could control, right here, right now. He ran and ran, needing to keep the frustration under control. Because something was building in him - a feeling that he didn't like. And he needed to run.
~~~~~
At 4pm Diana left home to go out for an evening with her friends. Lincoln had the apartment to himself, and as soon as he knew his wife had definitely left, he dialled Lexi's number again. The response was the same.
He immediately made a decision. Sick or not sick, he had to know what she was doing. This was her scheduled time with him, and her not being with him was unacceptable.
He showered and dressed immaculately, and called Toby to ask him to drive him. All the way there he found confusion in his mind. He had never turned up at her apartment before without some kind of conversation first - even if it was just an instruction he had left. Always, she had known he was on his way. That was part of his respect for her. His great respect.
Getting out of the car, he told Toby to wait. He walked to the apartment elevator and pressed her floor number, the nerves inside of him now making his heart pound heavily in his chest. He took deep breaths as he felt the elevator rise. He had to calm down. He felt it and he knew it.
He approached her apartment front door and waited first, standing silent and listening to see if he could hear any movement beyond the door. There was nothing.
He knocked quietly and waited.
Nothing.
He knocked harder … nothing.
Now he had a new decision to make. He had a key, but he had never used it. It was against his self-proclaimed respect for her, to just go into her apartment without talking to her first.
He waited a few more minutes and then waited no more. He inserted the key, turned it, and opened the door.
"Lexi?" he asked quietly, not wanting to stun her at the realisation that he had let himself in. When he heard nothing he called out with a touch more volume to his voice. "Lexi?"
He looked around the apartment. It was spotless, as always. Nothing was out of place. Nothing was messy. Not even a coffee cup was left on the sink, unwashed.
He walked through the apartment. It was tiny but it was beautiful. Like Lexi. Tiny but beautiful.
He walked past the open bathroom, and again saw it was immaculate. Everything was in the place it was meant to be. Everything that should be there, was there - toothbrush, toothpaste, her moisturizer … her body lotion that he loved the smell of. The smell that was Lexi.
Finally he came to her bedroom. The door was closed. Under the door he could see that the room was not light - the curtains must be pulled. Of course they would be pulled, he justified. She was sick in bed, and needed to sleep.
Again he stopped, not knowing what to do. Already everything felt … wrong. But he knocked on her bedroom door.
"Lexi?" he asked softly, and on hearing nothing, slowly and quietly opened the door.
The room was dark, but as he opened the door enough light poured into the room for him to see all that he needed to - the bed was empty. It was perfectly made, not a sheet out of place, not even a crease on the top cover.
He walked to the window and opened the curtain slightly - just enough to be certain she wasn't in the room. When he was sure, he forcefully opened the curtains fully, illuminating the room completely.
She wasn't here.
But she was sick. That was what the message had said. That was the reason he had not been able to see her last night - she was sick. He found himself frantic now. His first thought was that she must have gone away and not told him.
He immediately went to her drawers and opened them. They were full. He went to the wardrobe and opened the doors right up. Her clothes were all there. And in the top of the wardrobe was her overnight bag that she always used when she went anywhere. It wasn't missing - nothing was missing. She hadn't taken anything. She hadn't gone anywhere.
So where was she?
~~~~~
He pulled his phone out and called her number again, for some reason thinking that her phone might ring out loud, there in the apartment, and reveal itself in this situation of mystery, but once again he only got the voicemail message. This time he hesitated before he hung up.
"Call me," he said simply, before ending the call.
He looked around the bedroom, bewildered. Nothing was amiss.
He left the room and walked to the bathroom again. Everything looked normal there too. Except the bath. The bath was completely dry. And if it was that dry, that meant that she had not used it for some time. For however long, she had not had a bath or a shower. But she knew how clean she had to be for him, and she would not go a day without bathing. Not if she had been here.
Finally he walked into the living area. It wasn't a large area but it was well set out with a small dining area, a small lounge area, and a tiny galley kitchen. It wasn't somewhere he could live, being someone who needed lots of space around him, but she had been thrilled with it, he now remembered fondly. For her it was perfect.
He walked alongside the kitchen bench. Everything was where it always was. He opened the refrigerator - there was food, milk and juice, as always. The new jars of different flavoured coffee she had started to collect were present on the bench top - it was now a couple of years since he had noticed her veering away from the tea she always had preferred when he had first met her.
He sat on the sofa and looked out over the view of the city beyond. His insides were twisted and squeezed, he became aware,
and he closed his eyes and tried to just focus and think. Had she said she was going away? Had she needed to visit a friend? Family? He focused hard to try and think if he had just forgotten something she had told him - but nothing came to his mind. And regardless, the voicemail message said she was sick - not away on holiday.
Even visualizing in his head, the moment he had said goodbye to her and walked out on Thursday night - she had said nothing that had suggested she wouldn't be here Friday night.
He sat like that for what seemed like a long while, as if he was in a state of meditation. But his mind was not at rest like it would be if he was meditating. It was racing. His heart was racing too. He felt so out of control, and he was panicked by it. He was fighting to maintain calm … to maintain focus … and to maintain some kind of sanity in what he felt was a situation of exactly the opposite.
He knew there was no point in just sitting there so stood to leave. As he walked past the refrigerator, he looked at it, for a moment expecting to see a handwritten list of phone numbers friends and family members. Diana had done that in their home, in case technology ever failed and they had to contact someone but could not get the numbers off their phones. But on this refrigerator there was no such list. As far as he knew, she had no family. She had no friends.
But she did work…
Painful Deliverance Page 6