Hard Choices: An Erotic Romance

by Joan Farraneau

  Sarah doesn’t say anything as she thinks over what I’ve said. Of all the things and people and places I’ll be leaving behind, she’s the one that’s going to be the hardest to say goodbye to. I’ve never been out in the world without my best friend. First kiss, first boyfriend, first bad marriage—she was there for all of it. But I have to go. I don’t have a choice.

  “Well, I sure am going to miss you,” she murmurs when a full minute has passed. She shakes her head as if to clear away her thoughts. When she looks back at me, she’s smiling. “But I’m excited, too. I think it’s for the best. Girl, it’s about time you did something for yourself. Besides, with all this technology, it’s not like we still can’t talk every damn day. What are you going to do about Tim?”

  I shrug. Even though I’ve dreamed of leaving Tim for years, it’s not until this very moment that the possibility has seemed anything more than just that, a possibility. As such, I don’t actually know what leaving him entails.

  “File for divorce, I suppose. But not until I’m out of the state. He can have everything. It should be easy since we don’t have any kids.”

  “You should take him to the cleaner’s for all the shit he’s put you through.”

  “I wish, but I don’t think I have time for that. I need to leave as soon as I can, before he figures out what I’m doing. And besides, it not like he really has anything. I’m not sure when the last time is that he’s held a steady job. To be honest, I don’t know how he affords to drink like he does.”

  “And Sean?”

  “What about him?”

  “Don’t you…I don’t know…I just thought, maybe, if you two talked in there that—“

  “Sean isn’t the one for me either. You saw him in there. He’s perfectly happy picking up floozies and drinking away his life. The last thing I need is another Tim.”

  “I’m not sure I’d say he looked happy…”

  “It doesn’t matter. Love isn’t supposed to be hard. Look at you and Mike. You two are happy. You two aren’t worried about if the other is telling the truth. You aren’t scared of Mike. I’m tired of believing that difficult love is the only worthy love. Maybe I’ll never find someone again, but it just doesn’t matter anymore. I have to start living for me.”

  “Get it, girl! So then, what’s our next step?”

  “Our next step,” I say, pulling out of the bar parking lot, “is to go home and pretend like everything is normal. The last thing I want is Tim suspecting anything.”

  30.

  Sean

  The next thing I know I’m in my bed. It’s morning and sunlight is streaming in through the blinds. My head feels like a rock has been hammered against it several times. I groan and roll over. My legs hits another leg and for a moment I have the acute fear that I’ve taken home the woman from the night before. I open my eyes slowly, afraid of what I might find, only to sigh with relief when I see Brian snoring lightly beside me.

  It’s a long time before I’m able to push myself up. Try as I might, I can’t go back to sleep. It’s like my mind has been waiting for me to wake so that it can flood me with a thousand thoughts I can’t even begin to keep up with. Vague memories of the night before mix with remembrances of the precious few nights I spent with Sam. When I think of our conversation of the night before, anger wells up, though it is quickly replaced by regret. Why had I been such a jerk? I hadn’t meant to hurt her like that. It was the alcohol. No, it was me.

  Finally, when my belly won’t be quiet any longer, I force myself up and stumble to the bathroom. I’m down on my knees in a second, heaving up the remains of last night. Each heave brings me closer to equilibrium, though only in body, not in soul. If anything, the better my body feels, the worse things are for my mind. I want to cry, something I haven’t done in years.

  You’ve got to do something. You’ve got to talk to her. You can’t leave it like that.

  I’m right. I do have to do something. But what? And will it matter? After all, it won’t change the fact that she’s married. But surely there must be a reason why she didn’t tell me. If only I had let her talk! What we had felt special, like nothing I’d ever known. That was what being in that bar last night had shown me. No other woman could compare to Sam. I could still taste the woman who had kissed me last night, and compared with my memories of the sweetness of Sam…well, there just was no comparison. The choice was obvious and always had been.

  “Sean?” Brian’s voice calls hoarsely from the bedroom, interrupting my roiling thoughts. “Sean, you doing alright, buddy?”

  Suddenly I’m happy, blisteringly, overwhelmingly happy. I know just what I need to do.

  “Hey, buddy,” I call back, chuckling to myself. It all seems so simple. “I’m alright. Just exorcising the demons. How are you doing?”

  “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. Maybe two.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  “Hey, listen, about last night…I’m sorry I had to do that to you.”

  “Do what to me?”

  “Have you not looked in the mirror yet?”

  I push myself up to my feet, gripping the edges of the bathroom sink counter for balance as I look into the mirror. I’ve got a huge black eye. No wonder why my face hurts so damn much.

  “What happened?”

  “You don’t remember?” I hear Brian rise and pad down to the hall to the bathroom. He stops at the doorway and his gaze meets mine in the mirror. “After you talked to Sam at the bar, you started going crazy. You practically destroyed the place. I had to hit you to get you to calm down. And then I had to drive your ass here, though that was probably a bad idea seeing as I was pretty drunk myself.”

  “I don’t remember that at all.”

  “Yeah, you kept going on about how fucked up everything was. I tried to get it out of you, but you just kept repeating that you were tired of it all and that there was no point to anything. I think the bartender was just about to call the cops on you. Speaking of, he told me to tell you that you owe him several hundred dollars for the damage you caused.”

  “And those girls?”

  “You mean the bimbos who looked like they’d been out in the sun too long? Well, you scared them off right good. Not that I really mind. I mean, we could have gotten laid, but they definitely weren’t the best we could do. The one who was really into you finally had to be dragged out of the bar. She was determined to fuck you regardless of how much you kept calling her an evil bitch.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Yep. You sure did. I’m telling you, you were one scary motherfucker last night. What happened anyway? With Sam, I mean.”

  “Shit, it’s a long story.”

  “Well, you know I’d love to hear it. I don’t want to be too forward, but I’d say after last night that we’re pretty good friends now. Hell,” Brian laughed, “I might even call you my best friend.”

  “You have a funny way of treating your friends,” I say, fingering my eye and wincing. “You must have knocked the hell out of me.”

  “How else was I supposed to get you to calm down? I’m telling you, I’ve never seen so many shady-looking fuckers clear out of a bar so fast before in my life. Which makes me laugh considering I know how goofy-looking you were in high school.”

  “Listen, why don’t you make us some coffee? I have a few ideas I need to run by you. I’m not sure what to do.”

  “About Sam?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Alright,” he says, scratching his belly. He grins, lifts a leg, and lets out a fart. Good ol’ Brian. As much himself as ever. “I’ll go make us some of the best mud you’ve ever tasted and then you can tell me all about it.”

  31.

  Sam

  I spend the night pacing my bedroom, unable to sleep even a wink. I’m not tired at all, not even after all the adrenaline from the excitement of the night has dripped away. If anything, I’m more awake than I’ve been in a very long time. Now that I’ve made the decision to leave, everything
seems so clear. Why hadn’t I seen the solution before? Or rather, why had I refused to see the solution?

  Tim is passed out on in his easy chair when I sneak in the front door. Seeing him asleep, his face unshaven, a strong odor of sweat and beer leaking from his pores, my mind flashes to Sean sitting in that same chair. He’s naked, smiling, stretched out as he watches me work in the kitchen after our umpteenth romp in the hay. No matter what happens, and no matter what has happened, that will always be a memory I cherish. In the short ride back home, I’ve forgiven him completely. There’s no need to be angry anymore. Things happened as they had to happen. Life was like that sometimes. Sometimes, circumstances were just unfortunate.

  Though I’m up all night, I don’t start packing. As I told Sarah, it’s of utmost importance to act like everything’s normal. If Tim acts how he’s been acting these last few weeks, he’ll sleep a few hours and then leave to start his drinking all over again. By the time he comes back sometime tomorrow night, I’ll be gone, nothing left of our marriage but the memory and a note on the counter explaining my absence.

  I sit in the living room for a long while, watching Tim sleep and thinking back over all the years. I’m at such peace with myself, and filled with such hope, that the normal revulsion I feel when looking at my husband is gone. I just can’t be bothered to hate anymore. There’s no room in my new life for such feelings. Strangely enough, there’s almost a feeling of nostalgia for what will soon be no more.

  Every few minutes, I catch myself thinking of Sean and our too-few nights together. Even with all that happened afterwards, they still are some of the happiest moments of my life. I’ve never felt so possessed before, so cherished. The way he played my body, the way he kissed me and held me and looked at me. Sitting there thinking about him and about all the places we fucked in this trailer, I have to smile. I’m thankful because he showed me just what was possible, showed me that there was something better than the half-life I’d been leading up to that point. I truly was dead before he came along. For that, I’ll forever be grateful.

  Before I know it, it’s nearing five a.m. Time for me to go into work one last time. I pull on my clothes slowly, savoring the moment like one would savor the last bite of a favorite dessert. Tim is still snoring when I sneak out the door. He hasn’t moved all night. For a man who seems so unhappy, he sure sleeps the calm sleep of the unworried and content.

  Everything seems so beautiful this morning. I drive slowly to work. By the time I pull into the parking lot of the diner, my cheeks are stained with tears. It’s a bittersweet goodbye. Last night I’d been so ready to leave it all behind. But there’s more than just bad in this town of mine. There was and is a lot of good.

  Mike and Sarah are both in standing at the counter when I walk in. Sarah smiles gently at me, as does Mike, and I know without needing to ask that she has told him. He greets me with a big bear hug and a kiss on the cheek.

  “Hey, girl,” he says. “How are you?”

  “I’m good, Mike. Really good.”

  “Are you sure you need to do this?” Sarah asks as she pours me a cup of coffee. I take it gratefully and breathe deep its nutty aroma. There’s nothing better than a cup of fresh coffee in the place where I’ve spent most every morning for the last ten years. As usual, old Mort is at a table with an open newspaper in his hands, his head bent back, snores puttering up towards the ceiling. Goodbye, friend. I sure will miss you, Mort.

  “I’m sure,” I say, and I know from the assuredness in my voice that I am. Sarah can feel this too and nods.

  “Good,” she says. From her apron pocket, she extracts an envelope and hands it to me. It’s thick and feels heavy in my hand.

  “What is—?”

  “Just take it,” Mike grunts, closing his hand over mine. “It’s to help you get started wherever you end up.”

  “Just be sure to get a big enough place that I can come visit,” Sarah says, smiling, tears in her eyes. “Preferably somewhere in California on the beach. You know how I love to watch those muscle-bound hotties.”

  When Mike pulls his hand away from mine, I open the envelope. It’s filled with money, more than I can remember ever having seen in one place. The entirety of their savings must be here.

  “What? I can’t—“ I begin, but Mike puts a finger to my lips.

  “Shush,” he says. “Think of it as your Christmas bonus. The one I’ve owed you for ten years.”

  I can’t help myself; a tear wells up and rolls down my cheek. I’ve never felt more blessed than I have in this moment. And just when I’ve decided to leave it all behind.

  “Oh, sweetie,” Sarah laughs. She pulls me into her and squeezes me tight, holding me against her bosom like I’m her child. Mike’s arms close around both of us and we stand there like that, Old Mort asleep in his corner, until the tears have stopped and I’m left with nothing but gratitude.

  “Okay, well, that’s enough of that,” Mike grunts after a moment. He drops his arms, grabs his apron from the counter, and turns to go back to the kitchen. “Time for you girls to get to work. Just because it’s your last day, Sam, doesn’t mean you can just goof off. Got it?”

  “Got it, Mike,” I giggle. Sarah rolls her eyes.

  “Just like the big oaf to ruin a special moment,” she mutters as we grab our aprons from the pegs on the wall. I pull mine on and tie it behind my back. This too will be the last time I perform this little gesture.

  “Psst, come here,” Sarah whispers when Mike has disappeared into the kitchen. She beckons me over from the far side of the counter. I walk up, wondering what she’s up to now. When I get close, she points at two glass flutes on a shelf below the counter and an open bottle of champagne next to them. “I thought we could spend your last day celebrating,” she says. “This’ll be the last time in a while we’ll get to drink together.”

  She pours some champagne into each glass, looking over her shoulder as she does as if she’s fearful that Mike will find out. I can’t imagine he’d be too upset; this isn’t the first time Sarah has gotten drunk at work. She hands me a flute bubbling over with champagne and holds up hers.

  “To a new life,” she whispers. “For the best friend I’ve ever known.”

  We clink them together and then down them in two big gulps apiece, our eyes locked together. Some moments you know’ll just be memories forever.

  32.

  Sean

  “And you swear you’re telling me the truth?”

  “Scout’s honor.”

  “Huh.” I sit back and cross my arms and look at Brian seated across the table, the same table where I used to warily watch my still-drunk father drink his coffee and read the newspaper every morning before school. To be honest, I’m still not sure why I haven’t gotten rid of this place. Turns out, I’m more sentimental than I thought. That sentiment has kept me from calling up one of the local construction companies to come over and raze the place to the ground.

  “Huh,” I repeat for lack of anything else to say. Brian nods and takes a sip of his coffee. It’s been two hours since we’ve woken and the hangover is only now starting to clear. “How did you find this out?”

  “What can I say?” he shrugs. “I’m that good.

  “The truth is,” he continues, “after I saw you and Sam at the dance hall, I started asking around. Turns out, I didn’t have to ask around much before I got the full story. An old lady I always see at the bank was more than happy to spill the beans. You know what they say: small town, big mouths.”

  “And you’re absolutely sure about what you’ve told me?”

  “One hundred percent. After I heard the story from the old lady—I can’t remember her name…Mrs. Mosley? Mrs. Sampson?—I confirmed with another older woman who used to go to the same church. It’s pretty common knowledge that Sam and Tim are one unhappy couple.”

  “But how unhappy?”

  “Unhappy enough that he’s almost never around. Been that way for years. Apparently, as soon as they got married,
he started cheating on her. The woman wasn’t sure, but she suggested that he might have laid a hand on her more than once. Why do you think they don’t have kids, yet? I’d say that’s a pretty good sign in a town like this. Nothing else to do but have some kids, as you know I know.”

  “Huh,” I say again. There’s a feel, some feeling I don’t yet recognize, bubbling up inside of me. Whatever it is, it’s making me smile.

  “So, I’m telling you, Sean, you gotta go get her. There’s no way you can pass up a chance like this. Life only gives you one or two opportunities for this kind of love. I’ve learned it’s best not to spit in life’s face. Else you end up like me. Three kids, married, and lonely as hell.”

  “You think I should just go talk to her? She didn’t exactly leave the bar last night on good terms. If anything, it seemed like the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

  “Aww, I wouldn’t worry about that. You know how women are. Everything is a world ender for them. They like to pretend there’s no going back, that once a decision is made it’s final. But trust me: you go find her and profess your love for her, and I guarantee she’ll fall right back into your arms. Women are wired for happy endings.”

  “You sure know a lot for being in an unhappy marriage.”

  “You know how it goes. Wise men are merely the ones who’ve made the mistakes.”

  “I’ve got to hand it to you, buddy. When I first saw you again at the bank, I really wished I hadn’t. But I underestimated you. I’m sorry. You really are a good friend.”

  “Ehh, what can I say? Besides my charming lack of fidelity to a wife I’m pretty sure is cheating on me, I’m a relatively decent guy. So, are you going to get dressed and go chasing after her?”

  “I am. But after I’ve had a nap. I’m still feeling a little woozy from all that drinking last night. I’m not sure I’m fit to drive yet. Besides, you’ll need to take me to get my bike, and I know for a fact that you aren’t fit to drive.”