by S. J. Blaze
“Good, the people were extremely receptive and we made quite a dent.”
“Wonderful. Did anything exciting happen?”
He shakes his head and diverts his eyes. “Nope, same old, same old.” He pinches the bridge of his nose a couple of times. He’s lying and he missed a perfectly good opening to tell me.
Suddenly, my head feels incredibly heavy, like gravity has taken a hold, and I rest it on his shoulder. Please don’t lose it. Hold it together. He rubs my back as I try to stop myself from physically harming him. “I missed you so much. I should have stayed home with you.” Liar! Liar! Liar! The dizziness begins and I moan. “You okay, love? Maybe you need a doctor?”
“No, I’m fine. Probably just pushed myself too much. Maybe a bath will do me some good.”
“Okay, love. You want me to draw it for you?”
“I’m fine.” I try to scoot off of him but he grabs me and leans in for a kiss. I pull back and he freezes up as his eyes widen.
“Charlie?”
“I’m sorry, baby. What if I’m sick? I don’t want you to catch it.”
“Fuck that! You’re my wife.” His voice cracks at that last word. He’s having trouble with it too. “I’d rather kiss you and be horribly ill than never kiss you again and live to be one thousand. Give me my lips, love.” This time when he leans in, I take it. I close my eyes and relish this moment. It’s killing me, but who knows how many more kisses will be left for me? I shouldn’t have any as it is.
I run upstairs and marinate in the bath for far too long letting the tears drip down. They are silent. My life is already gone; this is just saying goodbye. I slip my head underwater to see if things will improve from this vantage point. Maybe a solution will appear. Instead, a hand dives in and pulls me out.
“What the fuck were you doing, Charlie? Oh god, you scared the shit out of me.” He grabs his chest and sits in the water puddled on the floor. He puts his head on his knee and I watch him breathing deeply.
“Coen, I was wetting my hair to wash. What the hell is wrong with you today?”
He gives his head a good shake. “Jesus, you’re right. I’m so sorry, love. I just walked in and you were under, and I freaked. I’m sorry. Do you want some company?”
“No, I’m fine. I’ll be out shortly. Guess I lost track of time.”
I finish up and Coen goes into his office. For the rest of the day, we both walk on eggshells. This is torture. By the time we’re in bed, I’m thoroughly wiped. This acting stuff is exhausting! And I’m pretty sure I suck at it.
“I was thinking that maybe we could buy a new house. What do you think?”
“Yeah, that’d be great.” NO! No it would be terrible!
“Yeah? How about I schedule some time with a realtor this week. We can search for something or we can build if you’d like. We could get a huge kitchen and a professional gym set up in the basement. I’ll make sure we get a huge one. Oh, and if we buy a place with a large amount of property, we could even build a small home for Malice. I know how you hate him being so far from you. Would you like that?” Yes, please stab me then twist the fucking knife some more.
“That would be wonderful, Coen. Thank you!” I’ve been asking about a new home for the last month, but now…yeah!
“I’d do anything to make you happy, Charlie. You know that. Anything, just say the word.”
“Thank you, Coen. You’re too good to me.” You lying, cheating man.
I fall asleep in his arms. And then I wake in his arms; the arms that once symbolized love and happiness. He touched her with those arms. He broke my heart with those arms. I hate those arms.
Sunday is as uncomfortable as Saturday was. And it ends nearly the same way, only this time Coen wants to take me on vacation…again. In another week plus, we would have been in each other’s lives for a full year. He wants to celebrate. I want to die.
It’s Monday morning and we’re dressing for work. I am going into CC this morning to address the legal department and check on things. He loves it when we go in together.
“You have a busy day today?” he asks while shaving, and gliding the razor in slow fluid strokes. I get lost in the movement. He’s so glorious. These will undoubtedly be the moments I miss. The details. “Charlie?”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I have to check in with legal then I’m off to see Juanita.” He smirks and steps towards me, his face still a quarter covered with shaving cream. He’s only in his trousers and I love his smooth flawless skin. I used to think he was too perfect for me, but now I know better.
“You see something you like, Mrs. Collins? It’s yours. You can have this whenever you want.” I hold in a whimper. He’s so cruel. If it was mine, then how dare he give it away?
I swallow and bite back the tears. Stupid foolish girl to believe any of his lies. I smile politely. “I have to finish getting ready, baby. You know once we start…”
“I don’t care if we’re late. I know the boss.” He smirks and bends down to kiss me. He grabs hold of my bottom lip with his teeth and tugs me into him. Then opens wider and weaves his tongue next to my own. He moans and I freeze. The last time I heard that moan…
“Coen, I’m still not feeling so great.” I clutch my stomach, this morning’s breakfast threatening a return appearance.
“If you’re not better by tomorrow, we’re calling the doctor. I’m not joking, Charlie. I’m getting worried.”
I nod. He doesn’t need to worry about me. I won’t be his problem for much longer. We drive to the office separately and I busy myself with my tasks. I have a full plate this morning and a timeline to hold. After the legal team debriefing, I gather my things and head to Coen’s office to have him sign off on all the needed paperwork.
His door is cracked open and when I push it, I find Coen hunched over his desk, his head in his hands. He looks miserable. My nonexistent heart aches for him. We could have ended differently. But he chose this. He chose to cheat on me. He chose to hurt me. He chose to hurt us both.
“Hey baby, can I get your John Hancock on these?” He jerks up when he hears my voice and wipes at his eyes. “Everything okay, babe?” I wander closer clutching the papers firmly to my chest.
“Yeah, yeah. Come here. You’re exactly what I need.”
He reaches his arms out to me and when I get closer he pulls me onto his lap. I put the papers on his desk and rest my arms around his neck. He smells so good that I take a moment to inhale his rich scent. It was my favorite smell once. I brush some hair behind his ear. It’s getting long and he’ll need a cut soon. My fingers continue tracing his ear, down his neck to the collar, then back up over his lips and nose and across his icy storming eyes. I love those eyes.
“I love you.” I confess, while desperately trying to keep the tears at bay. This might be the last time I tell him. I did my part. I loved him. I tried my hardest. I changed. It just wasn’t enough.
I wasn’t enough.
He fists my hair and clenches his jaw. “I love you, Charlie. More than words will ever spell, more than any language can ever define.” Again, he slams his mouth to mine, his fevered kisses frenzied and manic. He’s losing his grip. He skims his lips down my neck and then bites my ear. Sucking and nibbling he molests my innocent ear with his lascivious tongue.
With my neck still hyper-extended, he has his way without much resistance. “Mine,” he chants softly over and over again. It’s building into a mantra of sorts and I can feel him beneath me hardening. “I can’t ever lose you,” he murmurs into my neck as his hand roughly grabs my breast. “Forever.” He keeps voicing his random thoughts.
“Coen…baby, I have to be at the courthouse soon.” I rake my fingers across his hair and down his neck. I kiss him softly a few more times. “I still need your signature, my love. Then I have to return everything to legal.” I kiss him again, a distraction.
“Of course, whew. I got carried away there for a minute. We’ll finish this at home.” I watch his flushed cheeks return to their normal sh
ade and his eyes gain focus. I smile and grab a pen.
“Here, boss man. Now go ahead and sign your life away, but hurry up before you make me late.” I giggle. I’m so funny. Not!
He reaches across me and signs at all of the lines I point to as we go from page to page to page. Once we hit the last page, he throws the pen on the table and twirls my hair around with his fingers.
“When will you be home?”
“Oh gosh, that’s hard to say. I guess it depends on how the day goes.”
I stand and collect the papers, shoving them back into their file. I lean my knee on the chair between Coen’s legs and stare down at the man who wrecked my heart. The man who I promised my every future step to. My fingers crawl all over his face, smoothing out the creases in his forehead and the little crinkles around his eyes. I memorize his eyebrows and the little bump on the bridge of his nose. I carefully study his ear and how the skin connects to his neck. I soak all of this in and let it infuse me and pray that it will be enough to get me through. Because, right now, I don’t know if I can do this.
I allow myself to share those forbidden words one last time. “Coen Collins, I love you. I always will.” I say them with more determination. I want him to know that at one point, he had me. All of me.
“And I love you Charlie Collins. More than life itself. Hurry home to me, love.” I nod and smile back. I kiss him one last long hard kiss. A goodbye kiss. A real one this time. I avoid eye contact when we pull away and wave at him over my shoulder when I walk through his door.
Walking across the hall to my office and quietly closing the door I lean against it. Oh god. I did it. I close my eyes and try to center myself. What’s next?
“Vous n'êtes pas obligé de le faire, vous savez.”
You don’t have to do this, you know.
I open my eyes to see Malice sitting in my desk chair.
“Que proposez-vous -je faire? Pardonne et oublie?”
What do you suggest I do? Forgive and forget?
“Il va le tuer.”
It’ll kill him.
“Et moi dans tout ça? Comment suis-je de survivre après cela? Je ne fais rien ... il l'a fait!”
And what about me? How am I supposed to survive after this? I didn’t do anything…he did!
“Je pense juste que vous avez besoin de plus de temps pour réfléchir. Vous êtes trop impulsif.”
I think you need more time to think things through. You’re being too impulsive.
“Bonne chose que je ne donne pas une merde en ce moment. Tout est-il pris en charge?”
Good thing I don’t give a shit right now. Is everything taken care of?
“Oui.”
Yes.
“Tout comme je demandé?”
Just like I asked?
He nods numbly in response.
I walk to my desk, go through the paperwork Coen just signed, and take out the one I need. I pull apart the duplicate and fold it into thirds, handing it to Malice. Then I hold out my hand and Malice places a black velvet box in it. I open it and then stare at my left hand, which holds the two rings that I swore to Coen I would never take off. I continue to stare at it then bring my right hand up to try to remove it, but I can’t as it hurts so much. I try to focus on the way he sounded when he let that traitorous woman touch him. I try to hold onto that anger and let it fuel me, but I’m sinking.
“Enlever.”
Take it off. I hold my hand out to Malice.
“Non, si vous ne pouvez même pas prendre les anneaux hors tension, puis comment pouvez-vous le laisser?”
No, if you can’t even take the rings off, then how can you possibly leave him?
I shake my hands out to the side and bounce on my toes to loosen myself up. I’ve been in the cage against scarier opponents, so this ring is nothing. I pull on my ring finger and I can’t. Shit. Look at me, now. I’m a fucking weakling. Malice is staring at me, pursed lips, nostrils flaring. I have to do this.
Finally, with shaky hands, I try again. This time I get a firm grip on the rings and yank as hard as I can. They slide off and I throw them at Malice as if they were poisonous. He shakes his head in disappointment and places them in the ring box that I left waiting on my desk.
Frustrated, I grab my belongings and take one last final look at the space. I haven’t been here long, so there aren’t many memories. But it represented my future with Coen. Something else I have to say goodbye to.
I leave the office and head to Malice’s condo. I let myself in and see he has the computer monitor all set up, waiting for me. The truth is, I’m a cold hearted bitch. Coen had me all muddled with thoughts of love and happily ever afters.
I text Malice to let him know I’m at his place then I turn the monitor on and click a few buttons. I get to see everything. Like I said, I’m heartless.
The display is a little grainy and the movement jerky, but today, I’m a fly on the wall or more precisely on Malice’s lapel.
He knocks.
“Come in,” is heard after some shuffling.
“Malice, comment allez-vous? Tout va bien? Charlie, est-elle d'accord?”
Malice, how are you? Is everything okay? Charlie, is she okay?
“Oui, elle m'a demandé d'apporter quelques cadeaux pour vous.”
Yes, she has asked me to deliver some gifts for you.
“Cadeaux?”
Gifts?
“Oui, elle a dit que vous agissiez étrange et qu'elle voulait faire quelque chose pour vous. Voici la première”
Yes, she said that you were acting strange and she wanted to do something for you. Here is the first.
Malice reaches into his pocket and pulls out the first wrapped box. It’s small and has a sweet red bow on the top. He places it on the desk.
Coen reaches over and pulls off the lid. He looks inside with questioning eyes and then grabs the USB flash drive.
“Il est une vidéo pour vous de regarder. Branchez-le sur votre ordinateur.”
It’s a video for you to watch. Plug into your computer.
“Que faire si il est racé? Elle pourrait ne pas vouloir que vous le voyiez.”
What if it’s racy? She might not want you to see it. He smiles devilishly. You wish.
“Elle approuve.”
She approves.
Coen hesitantly plugs it into his computer. He has to click on a few boxes and then the image appears. A door. He looks confused.
“Augmente le volume.”
Turn up the volume. Malice demands.
“Oh, I bet your cold bitch of a wife couldn’t suck you off for shit. I know exactly how you like it, remember baby?”
Coen’s eyes go wide when he recognizes that voice. He shakes his head. “No!” He yells at no one. The video continues and he clutches his hair.
“What is this? Where did you get this?” He screams at Malice and walks over to him. Malice is quiet. I can make out Coen’s face more clearly from this distance. His eyes are red rimmed and he is shaking. “She was there?”
You can hear the groaning and moaning.
“Fuck, this is, this is…oh, fuck, so good. Shit!”
“Oh god. She was there. She heard this.” He leans over and clutches his stomach. “Oh god.”
Then you hear those horrid slurping noises followed by my own whimpering. Coen looks over to the video and sees it shaking, and hears my labored breathing and sniffles. He puts his hand on the screen and starts crying. “Charlie. Oh god, baby, I’m so sorry.”
He wipes his eyes and turns the computer off. Before he has had a chance to turn around, he sees the new gift that Malice just dropped on the desk.
“Not another one. I can’t take it.”
“Elle veut que vous l'avez.”
She wants you to have it.
He timidly reaches forward and pulls the lid off, revealing the black velvet box underneath. He looks up at Malice. And essentially at me. Then he places the ring box on the desk and carefully opens the lid.
He starts s
creaming, I hear the pain ripping from each syllable. “NOOOO. NOOO,” he wails over and over as tears stream down his face. “NOOO, she’s my wife. I won’t let her go. Noooo! Charlie!” He’s screaming and sobbing. He lays his head on the desk and continues bawling. It comes from deep within.
But I’m a horrible cruel person and I’m not done.
I hear Malice pull out the folded piece of paper and walk over to Coen who looks up with tears streaming down his face. He tries to wipe it away with the back of his hand.
“I won’t let her go. I know I fucked up. But I’ll never let her go. She’s my wife. My everything.”
“Non, elle est pas.”
No, she isn’t.
He puts the paper down and Coen quickly snatches it up. His moist eyes scan the document and then he starts shaking. His hands cover his face and the horrible sobs continue. This time with no hope in them.
I gave him back the last piece that he gifted me. His name. This morning I had him sign the annulment papers I drew up. I don’t want his money or his company, only freedom from him.
I’m just Charlie now…good old Charlie Paz.
Coen will go home to find that all of my belongings have been removed. And when he tries to enter my condo, he will find a new family living there. I have effectively eradicated myself entirely from his life. Or vice versa. The old saying rings true, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
Chapter Forty-Two
“Hhhello?”
“Shooter girl, you wanna tell me why Richie came to my shop starting shit?”
“Bully?”
“Baby girl, what the fuck is goin’ on?” He’s growling.
“I, I, uh, I don’t know.”
“What’s wrong? You seem off.”
“I’m sort of having a bad week.”
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“With Richie?”
“No.”
“At your condo?”
“No.”
“Charlie…Where. The. Fuck. Are. You?”
I give him the address to my new place then hear some muffling over the phone. “Lyle, Lyle, get the fuck over here.”
“Charlie, listen to me baby girl. Don’t move, okay? I’m on my way. When I get there, I need you to answer the door, okay?”