Unconditional

by K. S. Kamat

  I’d been in the store for almost two hours searching for another important book, and I threw a fist of victory when I found it. Duane peeked in through the other shelves and grabbed the book from my grasp. It read Sign language for beginners. His green eyes smoldered into a lighter shade when he noticed what I had been up to. I thought he’d be mad at me for that, but I noticed as beads of tears formed in the corner of his eyes.

  He sighed. “Thank you.”

  I hadn’t learned sign, but the gesture told me everything. Duane rested his palm on my head and I wrapped my arms around him. He hugged me back. I wished the three unspoken words would just reach him somehow.

  ****

  “You think I can find that book in that new store?” Ben, my classmate and good friend, asked me. He was looking for a traveling book for a long time. Ben was an avid traveler and collected travel related books.

  “I’m sure you’ll find it there or I can tell my friend to look for it.” I answered.

  “Awesome.”

  I greeted the book store lady as usual; Ben was really enthusiastic about looking for his book, so he dashed through the shelves. Janice told me where I would find Duane. Without further ado, I dragged Ben towards him, excited to introduce my friend to him. Duane appeared to be seated idle on a small stool, a book sprawled on his lap.

  “Duane.” I stood in front of him. He glanced up at me and flashed his mischievous smile. It quickly faded when his eyes zeroed on Ben.

  Uh-Oh!

  “Duane, this is Ben, my friend.” I had learned the alphabets in sign language so I proceeded to explain Ben’s name with sign.

  “And Ben, this is Duane. My...boyfriend.” the wishful thinking was talking.

  Ben’s eyes went wide, he looked from me to Duane and back, but I knew he was a great guy and definitely not the judging type. He shook hands with Duane. I explained to Duane about what book Ben was looking for and in a matter of seconds, Duane handed it to him. He gave Duane a harsh pat on the back and a thumbs up, “Thank you, man. I’ve been looking for this book for ages.”

  Ben made his way to the cash register giving me a quick hug, and Duane probably noticed the little affectionate interlude since his expressions were that of a dejected and wounded man. He refused to acknowledge me after that, disappearing into the never ending cluster of shelves. I had just introduced Ben as a friend.

  Why would Duane get the wrong idea?

  I followed suit and found him heaving the large paperback books tumbling down, his body shook with unsettled erratic breathing. I touched his shoulder but he pulled away. “What’s wrong?”

  I tried using sign but decided against it. I pulled out the notepad out of my denim back pocket and wrote.

  What is wrong, Duane?

  He shook his head, looking everywhere but me. I cupped his face in my hands and forced him to look at me, “Have you still not figured out what I feel for you?”

  Still clueless he grabbed for the notepad and began writing down.

  He can talk and listen to your voice. I cannot do that. Are you not ashamed of me?

  Silly boy. Why didn’t Duane understand that he didn’t need to speak or listen to me in order to be special for me? I loved him because of his simplicity, for his kindness, because he understood me like no one else.

  I wrote back.

  You make me proud Duane; I have never met someone so clear and pure like you.

  He seemed deadpan, shook his head writing back.

  I don’t want your pity, Grace.

  How could he think I wanted him out of pity? “Silly. Silly, Duane.” I continued, “I love you.”

  Duane remained puzzled. I wrote below in the notepad.

  I love you.

  He stared at me in bewilderment; he hadn’t expected me to throw the ‘L’ bomb on him. I took his hand into mine and lowered it towards my rapidly beating heart, “Feel that?”

  Duane nodded.

  “This is what you do to me, Duane.” I confessed. The butterflies fluttered deep within me, “You make me feel alive.”

  He took my hand in return and placed it over his chest, and I felt his heart pounding with a much rapid pace. With his other hand he tugged a strand of hair behind my ear. I went up on my tiptoes as my eyes fluttered closed. That’s when his lips grazed mine before swallowing me whole, drinking me in. His soft affectionate kisses became a full blown kiss; my hands automatically got tangled in his tousled hair.

  A girl barged in on us, but that didn’t snap us out of our little world. She giggled shyly and left, muttering an “Oops. Sorry.”

  Duane was the first to pull away; he wrote another note.

  Be mine, always and forever, baby.

  ****

  I diced the vegetables slowly as I hummed to the new beat drifting from the stereo on the marble counter. A pair of hands wrapped around my eyes, blinding me, “Duane, baby, is that you?”

  I spun around to face my husband who didn’t give me a chance to be surprised and pecked my lips. He looked immaculate in his crisp white shirt and the loose tie. I snapped out of the beautiful spell when our little boy barged into the kitchen, “Daddy.”

  That forced us to pull away; John was a splitting image of Duane with the exact hair color and eyes. John glanced from me to his father and back, like watching an important tennis match. He asked. “Daddy, can you help me with homework?”

  “John, how many times did I tell you to use sign with your father?” I glared at him.

  “Right.” John muttered as he showed a gesture with his hands to Duane.

  Duane’s face lit up with realization. He turned back to me.

  “Go help with homework.” I continued, “I. Will. Get. Lunch. Ready.”

  Duane’s face glimmered with admiration and love. He nodded. Duane had started to learn lip-sync slowly. John hopped and grabbed Duane’s bicep while the other twin, Taylor, swung on the other one. They clung onto either side as Duane wrestled them towards the living area.

  “Jonathan and Taylor, you harass your father and I’ll be the first to ninja kick your butts. Watch it!”

  I heard a yes mom being yelled in unison, and then I heard a loud crash and the sound of giggles.

  “Hey, you tell your father that if I see my crystal smashed, I’m coming back to ninja kick his butt.”

  I was going to add sexy, but realized the boys didn’t need that bit of information.

  It had been five years since I became Mrs. Harrison, and I couldn’t remember being so happy ever in my life. Each day was a lesson for me to learn. Duane was an example of my happily ever after and I couldn’t be more grateful of the day he had walked into my life, or rather when I walked into his life.

  Tormented

  What is it like to feel loved unconditionally?

  What is it like to feel protected?

  Guess I might never find out.

  “Would you like some champagne, ma’am?” I turned to look at the waiter and picked up the flute filled with golden sparkling liquid.

  “Thank you.”

  I climbed to my feet and made my way towards the ladies clustered in the far corner of the lawn. I knew a pair of broody icy blue eyes followed my every move. I settled in one of the vacant seats right next to Mrs. Davis who was showing off her new diamond bracelet. The women oohed and aahhed with fake enthusiasm, probably so she could zip up that chattering mouth faster, either that or out of sheer jealousy.

  “Wow. Emily, love that new diamond necklace. Is that from Tiffany’s?”

  I nodded. Then Rosalind eyes travelled to the matching bracelet and the diamond studded watch glimmering proudly on my wrist. “You are one lucky woman to have such a generous and kind husband, Emily. I mean, it’s not just the money, but I can see how much he loves you.”

  Wanna trade mine with yours?

  I continued to nod my head like I always did and let her do the talking. “Alexander can hardly keep his eyes off you. It’s like he is mesmerized.”

  I glanced in t
he direction Rose was looking in and my gaze met with the tall blond man standing in the corner chatting with his business associates. My husband. A dazzling smile crossed his lips as he nodded briefly in our direction. I knew a certain someone was melting beside me. I didn’t see a puddle on the ground though. I could hardly blame Rose for the way she saw us. We were what you’d call perfect in every way. A mansion, the luxurious cars, and a gorgeously well settled man with a beautiful wife on his side. Things couldn’t possibly be out of picture here, right? Wrong!

  The Maxwell’s were good at faking a perfect life.

  “Mom.” Eric called out to me. I noticed his best friend tagging along with him.

  “What is it, honey?” Eric looked exactly like Alex. Only his hair was chocolate brown like mine.

  “Can I take Cole to my bedroom upstairs? We want to play PS3.”

  “Sure, sweetheart.” I watched as the boys scurried towards the mansion entrance. Rose had already joined her husband leaving me all alone at the patio. I drank the last of my drink.

  The rich aroma of continental food entered my nostrils. The worst part of being a hostess was you eat when all your guests have eaten and pray they weren’t kin to Adam Richman from Man Vs Food. I ignored the loud growl erupting from the pits of my stomach and contemplated making a dash for the kitchen and sneaking a chocolate bar when I saw Dr. Hart, friend, Alex’s business associate and our family doctor walking around the lawn carrying a plate in his hand, seeming lost.

  “Dr. Hart, Cole is upstairs with Eric.” I informed him.

  Dr. Hart smiled as he made his way towards me. “I was starting to worry since I wasn’t able to spot him. He hasn’t eaten dinner yet.”

  “I’ll make sure he does.” I assured him.

  “David.” The voice sent shivers down my body but I tried to act cool. Dr. Hart turned towards my husband who walked in our direction, carrying a half filled glass of Scotch.

  “Enjoying the party?” Alex asked the doctor, not so much as acknowledging my existence.

  “Of course. Great food, good music...” Dr. Hart said. His eyes met mine and his next words knocked the air out of my lungs, “Great company, what’s not to like.”

  Alexander’s eyes became tennis ball sized but he refused to showcase any of that on the surface. His jaw started working. Dr. Hart continued, “Emily was just telling me about her new painting.”

  What in the world was this man talking about”

  “Really?” Alex asked good-naturedly, shooting poison dipped daggers at me. “Em, why don’t you show David that painting of yours,” Then to the doctor he said, “She has a room filled with those lovely paintings. Her own little museum, Emily’s little secret.”

  “May I see it?” The very enthusiastic doctor asked.

  “Be my guest.” That was Alex.

  I glanced from Dr. Hart to Alex and back. I found my voice a while later. “This way.”

  I led Dr. Hart to the entrance of the house and into the foyer. We passed the large living area and the dining area facing across the never-ending hallway and down the stairs towards the room I had turned into my personal museum. I punched in a number in the security locking system and pressed my thumb for identification. I could feel Dr. Hart’s breath lingering just above the hollow of my neck. I fought an urge of not spinning round to fall into his arms. I switched on the lights as we entered the large room which was neatly arranged with the paintings that I had done over the years. The door clicked into place and a pair of strong muscular arms slipped around my waist.

  “David, please.” I pleaded. “What are you doing?”

  “I love you, Em.” He whispered in my ears softly as he nuzzled just below my ear-lope.

  “This room is under surveillance. Alex monitors it. Why don’t you understand?”

  “I’m aware of the exact spots. Don’t worry.” He said as he twirled me to face him.

  I drank in his flawlessly sculpted face. It was like the creator had taken a day off from his daily routine to work on this particular project. His dark hair was swept back, not a single strand out of place. Those deep green eyes studied me carefully as he raised his arm to caress my cheek. I noticed the beautiful loopy tattoo carved on his wrist just below his palm. Everything happens for a reason it read.

  “Come with me.” I was interrupted by his surprise invitation.

  “You know I can’t do that, David. I’m married and I have a son. Why do I have to keep reminding you?”

  “I will help you get out of this mess. You and Eric. You just have to say the word.” He said softly, slowly and clearly. The way you’d talk to a five year old.

  Before I could respond to that invitation, I heard a soft noise of foot-steps retreating downstairs and then the beeping of the sensor lock. We pulled away abruptly as the door clicked open. David had already drifted towards the far end of the room. He put up a good show of seeming adrift in the canvases of paint. You’re probably thinking a woman like me should feel guilty for enjoying being in another man’s arms. That’s where you’re wrong. I wasn’t guilty. Just scared. Maybe a twitch of guilt for Eric’s sake, because I wasn’t in love with his father. At least, not anymore.

  “Your wife is very talented, Alex.” David complimented. A smirk crossed his lips.

  Alex chuckled. “Lucky me.” He swaggered towards the center of the room. “Cole is looking for you, Dave. Says he wants to go home.”

  That was the cue for David to leave. If he hadn’t gotten the message concealed beneath the undertone, I didn’t know what would. The message was loud and clear. Get the hell out of my house. David smiled warmly at us. “Good night then, Alexander.” Dammit! He was pissed, and then he acknowledged me. “Emily.”

  I nodded in return and watched his muscular lean frame bolt out of the door. I didn’t miss the little hesitation as he stepped out and the door clicked shut behind us. I watched the paintings, unable to muster up the courage to talk. My legs were turning Jell-O despite the crackling fire place. A minute passed. Fifteen minutes, then twenty. Neither of us uttered a word and the room continued a sensuous dance in the voice of silence.

  “Alex..I...” An inhumane strike across my right cheek shut me up momentarily. I remained silent, took a deep breath and continued. “He was just...”

  Another smack harder than the previous one collided with the left side, tears began to sting and blurred my vision. My voice came off as frail and weak as I tried to speak again. “Stop it, please, Alex.”

  Alex seized me by the jaw and forced me to look up into his dilating blue eyes. “Tell me how you can do this? You are my wife, you live in my house and yet you have the audacity to fuck another man while I entertain the guests outside. How long have you been doing this?”

  “I didn’t do anything. We were just talking.” I explained. He slapped me again, even harder this time. All those gym hours and protein shakes were paying off. I could feel it. “David is just a friend. I swear.”

  Alex caught a fistful of my hair by the roots and yanked me back and forth. I screamed for him to let go. “Please stop.”

  “So now he gets promoted from Dr. Hart to David? How long have you been playing doctor and patient in my bedroom?” He spat the words at me.

  “I didn’t do anything.” I kept repeating over and over again.

  “Listen to me, you ungrateful bitch. I want you to follow me upstairs now. A lesson needs to be taught.” He grabbed my arm and dragged me upstairs.

  Truth to be told, even though David and I loved each other, we never did anything more than hold hands. He confessed how much he loved me, but I’d always kept it buried inside. I wish I’d done the contrary, maybe then I wouldn’t feel so disgusted by Alex’s allegations. Alex’s tight grip on my arm loosened when we reached the living area, only then did he let go of me.

  “I need coffee.” He commanded settling on the leather couch. “I’ll give you three minutes. Make it good and fast.”

  Nothing wrong with making a cup of coffee, right?


  It was a game for Alex. A game he had been playing for the past five years. I scurried away in the kitchen and prepared the coffee, though I knew it wouldn’t be ready by three minutes. The head chef had already blended the grounds. A minute and a half later it was done and I poured the contents into a mug, added milk and a spoonful of sugar.

  “Ten..Nine..Eight.” I could hear Alex bellowing a countdown.

  With trembling hands I carried the tray slowly.

  “Three.”

  “Two.”

  “One.”

  I set the tray down on the coffee table and waited. I knew what was in store for me. He lifted the hot brewing coffee to his lips and took a gulp. Mentally I chanted ‘Burn, Burn, Burn,’ but no such luck.

  “Are you trying to kill me?” he spat.

  “What?”

  Before I could realize what was going on, he surged the mug forward and spilled the hot coffee over my arms. A bloodcurdling scream filled the silence. I had no doubt about my vocal cords being damaged. I could still hear his furious voice screaming at me, “I’m diabetic and you still dumped a good amount of sugar into that mug, didn’t you? You want me dead sooner.”

  Poison is what I would’ve added in the cup. Not sugar if I wanted him gone.

  The burning sensation wouldn’t cease. It only got worse. It felt like a sharp knife getting sliced into my skin slowly while the fire burned. I watched as the skin turned an ugly red. Smoke swirled the air.

  “This is what you get when you lie to me. You can’t even make the damn coffee. Burns, doesn’t it?” I looked into his fathomless eyes, those that didn’t hold an ounce of mercy. “You deserved it.”

  “I only added a spoo…” I shrieked when I was rewarded with blow. I saw stars. They continued to revolve just the way they showed in cartoons.

  “Don’t you dare back answer me. Talk, only when you are allowed to.”