Idle Bloom

by Jewel E. Ann

  “Why?” she whispers.

  Why what? Why the touch? Why am I married? Why did I not tell her earlier? Why is life so unfair? It doesn’t matter. The answer is the same for it all.

  “I don’t know.”

  Her hand fists under mine, her body begins to shake, and then she sucks in a shaky breath. I did this to her. Turning, I pull her into my arms as she breaks down. Her hands fist the front of my shirt.

  “I don’t want to love you anymore,” she cries.

  “I know.” I kiss the top of her head and let her lose her emotions to me. They cut deep and I welcome the pain. It’s a reminder that what we had was real, our love was real, life with Vivian was real.

  I’m not sure when she stops crying or when we fall asleep in each other’s arms. I’m awake again and she’s next to me, her head resting against my chest. If there’s truly a God, then I have to pray that he allowed my heart to whisper all my unspoken emotions. I’m not sure what it really means to bare my soul, but for this woman … I’d give my last breath.

  “Oli?” Her voice is barely a whisper. I rest my cheek on her head.

  “Hmm?”

  “Tell me about Caroline.”

  God, the pain is crippling. “We met in college. Married right after graduation and then moved to Portland. Her family is there and that’s where she grew up.”

  “Why is she depressed and suicidal?”

  The lump in my throat expands to an unbearable size as I feel my pulse begin to race.

  “Oli?”

  I try to swallow past it. “Our … um…” I try to clear my throat and fight back the emotions that have been haunting me for so long “…our baby died.”

  Vivian gasps and looks up at me with her hand covering her mouth. I divert my eyes to the ceiling and blink back the tears. I don’t want to lose it … not now … not in front of her.

  “Oh my God!”

  I nod and keep looking up, blinking at a furious speed, fighting the fucking tears.

  “Oliver, oh my God!” Her hands slide up and cradle my face. The undeserving touch is nearly as painful as the words I could barely speak.

  “Flower? Are you here? Oliver?” Alex calls from downstairs.

  I sit up and hobble into the bathroom shutting the door behind me. Leaning back against the door, I run my hands through my hair. “Fuck!” I hate this. Memories like this never disappear, but I wish they would. Sometimes I think I need a damn lobotomy. I’d gladly give up the good memories to get rid of the bad. I splash some cold water on my face and go back into the bedroom.

  “Hey.” Alex greets me with a wary face, then looks at Vivian sitting on my bed. “What’s going on?”

  Vivian glances at me with a sad smile then looks at Alex. “I just came to get my stuff. I didn’t know he was here. My bags are downstairs.”

  Alex nods. “You shouldn’t be walking this far yet.”

  Vivian scrunches her nose. “I know, it was stupid. I should have waited for you.”

  “Yes, you should have. I’ll carry your bags home, and then I’ll come help you back across the street.”

  “I’ll get her.”

  “Your feet—” Vivian starts to protest.

  “They’re fine.” I scoop her off the bed.

  “Okay then…” Alex shrugs and walks toward the stairs “…I’ll get the bags.”

  I feel her intense gaze on me the entire walk to their place, but I don’t meet them. “Upstairs or down?”

  “Leave her down,” Alex answers before Vivian has a chance to respond.

  I set her on the couch, but she keeps a hold of my neck until I look at her. “Oli—”

  “Remember that look of pity?” I whisper, reaching up to move her hands from my neck.

  She nods.

  “I don’t want it either.”

  She nods again.

  “I’ll be around if you need anything. I’m not working again until next week.”

  “She won’t.” Alex stands by the door holding it open, no doubt waiting to slam it on me as soon as I step out.

  Slam!

  Just as I thought.

  *

  Vivian looked miserable today crawling around on her hands and knees. It was probably a real dick move not to help her sooner, but at the time I questioned which was going to be more painful—seeing me or her dealing with her physical injuries. I think it was a tie.

  I imagine her smoking pot or inhaling pain pills to ease the misery. Jack is my best friend when it’s time to numb the pain. He has been for the past three years. Vivian took over for Jack for a while, but she’s not at arm’s reach any longer. I know she’s just across the street, but when the loneliness sets in she might as well be on another planet.

  My phone chimes and I should be asleep since it’s approaching midnight, but I’m not. Instead, I’m still on my deck, drowning in a sea of misery and Jack. Apparently I’m not the only one who can’t sleep.

  Vivian: Can’t sleep. Thinking about earlier, not pity just … thoughts.

  Me: Can’t sleep either. Not sure what else to say.

  Vivian: Sorry I trashed your place.

  Me: That’s pity. You weren’t sorry before we talked earlier.

  Vivian: You’re right. I’m still pissed and I get a sadistic pleasure out of seeing your scarred face and gimpy walk.

  Me: That’s better.

  Vivian: Now I don’t know what to say so … goodnight.

  Me: Goodnight, my love.

  I erase it and retype the last part.

  Me: Goodnight, Vivian.

  This afternoon wasn’t a forgive and forget moment. I’m not stupid. My confession gave me a stay of execution, but I have a sick feeling the worst is yet to come. Once the magnitude of what has happened to us over the past week settles in, she’s going to see how fucked-up my life really is … how fucked-up I really am. And she’s going to be gone from my life forever.

  *

  Vivian

  I am almost twenty-two years old and I mean it as in only twenty-two years old. Yet I am dealing with a relationship situation that seems like something from a motion picture drama or out of a fictional book. Seriously! I just found out the man I imagined living with forever is married and had a baby that died. That is a crap load of emotional baggage to deal with for anyone, let alone a twenty-two year old who, until recently, still had her V card and has never seen the inside of a college lecture hall or even been on an airplane.

  I need to know more, but I’m not sure why. Morbid curiosity? Maybe. Will it change anything? Doubtful. I don’t know how it could.

  “What was going on with you two when I showed up yesterday?” Alex hands me a cup of coffee.

  I take a sip. “He told me something.”

  “And …”

  “And I’m not sure it’s my place to share it with you.”

  “You cannot be serious. The guy just broke your heart. He lied to you … humiliated you, but you feel obligated to keep some secret for him?”

  She’s right. As tragic as his past seems to have been, he could have … should have told me before our relationship got so serious. But I understand that it takes a serious connection to open up to someone about something so personal, so heartbreaking, so life-altering. I’ve been there. I get it.

  I bite my lips together and nod. “His secret is on a whole different plane of awful and tragic than mine has ever been, so yes, I feel obligated to keep it, respect his trust.”

  “Flower, you amaze me, but not necessarily in a good way. I think it takes a while after you lose your virginity to really find that seasoned tarnish that can only come from being screwed in more ways than one. You, my dear, have a ways to go.”

  I laugh. “You should have majored in philosophy.”

  “I’m just looking out for you. Nothing good can come from being with a married man, and he knows it too. That’s why he never told you. You’re young, Flower, you need to experience the world—lots of sex with lots of guys.”

  �
�Says my monogamous friend. What makes you think I’m going from virgin to slut? Oliver was different, the exception. I can’t imagine being with anyone else.” I sigh. “I also can’t imagine being with him anymore either. Maybe I’ll go back to Virginville. It really wasn’t so bad there.”

  “Liar.”

  I grin then look down as it fades. “I love him.”

  “Loved.”

  “No, I love him still—always. The pain doesn’t take away the love.”

  “And the love doesn’t take away the pain.”

  I nod and wipe a stray tear. “I wish I would have met him first.”

  “Before his wife?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That would have made you what? Fifteen? Sixteen? Can you say statutory rape?”

  “You know what I mean. I thought I came with a lot of baggage, but Oliver’s a damn cargo ship compared to me.”

  “That bad?”

  I close my eyes and lean back. “That bad.”

  *

  Alex agreed to work for me until I can stand on my own two feet, literally. I’m supposed to go home for my birthday weekend tomorrow, but now I’m trying to figure out how to physically get there and what my explanation will be to my parents.

  I hate that I can’t control the excitement I feel when my phone chimes with a text from Oliver. He hurt me, and my heart has that painful memory, but my body didn’t get the memo.

  Oliver: How are you feeling today?

  Me: Fabulous, LOL, you?

  Oliver: Like someone tried to murder me in my own home.

  Me: You probably deserved it.

  Oliver: I did.

  Me: Contemplating the trip home tomorrow. Would it be weird if I crawled at the train station?

  Oliver: Not in Boston, but maybe in Hartford.

  Me: Wondering what I’ll tell my parents?

  Oliver: May I suggest the truth? Lies can be BAD news!

  Me: Point taken :(

  Oliver: Why don’t you take my car?

  Me: I couldn’t. What if something happened to it?

  Oliver: It’s insured … like everything in my house was.

  Me: Low blow.

  Oliver: Sorry. I think I’m the one that broke the only irreplaceable thing that day.

  Me: ?

  Oliver: Us.

  I exit the message screen and toss my phone aside. Where the hell am I? I love him. I hate him. I want to have some self-respect, to stay angry at him, but he lost a child. He has some serious emotional issues and he’s still married. Do I sever all ties with him? Can we be friends or neighbors? Then there is the burning question—why is he divorcing his wife? She lost her baby. I’d probably go insane too. It doesn’t make sense.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Naked Boots

  Oliver

  Key. Lock. Door.

  I still can’t open my eyes, but I slide inside the room and collapse down the wall hugging my knees to my chest. The sweat surfaces in an instant. Heart racing, body shaking, the memories still cut too deep. It didn’t make sense then, and it doesn’t now. I just hate her so much.

  With each labored breath, I squeeze my eyes shut tighter until all I see is Vivian. Her innocent smile and those loving eyes looking up at me like I’m the reason they dance with life. My life, they dance with my life, and without them I’m not sure I can feel alive. My pulse evens out and I relax my eyes, cracking them just enough to see the blurry white outline. I can’t. Fumbling for the door knob, I fight to get out of the room. I can’t breathe. There’s no oxygen in here … no life.

  I need a life again. I need Vivian.

  *

  Me: I’ll “pick you up” at 8 a.m., we’ll stop for donuts and coffee on the way to your parents’ house.

  Vivian: ?? Not taking you to meet my parents.

  Me: Why not?

  Vivian: Um … because they’ll wonder why I’m bringing my married neighbor home with me.

  Me: Tell them because he’s crazy-wild-beyond all words in love with you. AND he’ll do ANYTHING to prove it!

  Me: Vivian?

  Nothing.

  I expect a response, at least a “screw you” or something. There’s a knock at my door. Something!

  “Prove it.” Vivian stands with her weight shifted to the outer edges of her bandaged feet and slippers.

  “How?” I try to contain my grin because her lips are tilted into a frown and her eyes are tensed into a challenging scowl.

  “Carry me upstairs.”

  My dick hardens. I may be banged up a bit, but this I can do. I’ll go all night if that’s what it takes. Dear God, I hope that’s what it takes. I scoop her up in my arms and kick the door shut. Bending down, I try to kiss her but she turns away.

  “Not yet.”

  She’s playing hard to get, making me work for it. Challenge accepted.

  “Stop,” she says before we get to the bedroom. “Put me down.”

  I ease her to her feet and she hobbles back a few steps. “Prove it.”

  I hope she’s asking me to fuck her against the door and not open it, but the nauseating sensation in my stomach tells me I’m not that lucky.

  “It’s all or nothing, Oli. You said anything. No take backs?”

  Am I ready for this? No. Can I let her go? No.

  I suck in a deep breath and release it with a slow nod. “No take backs.” I lift the cobalt vase and dump out the key. Sticking it in the lock, I pause before turning it. The thought of opening it paralyzes me as much as the thought of losing her. “Can I ask you for a favor?”

  She crosses her arms over her chest. I’m pushing my luck. “What?”

  I rest my forehead against the door and close my eyes. “You go in, but when you come out we don’t talk about it until we get back from your parents’ house this weekend.”

  “Why?”

  “Just … please, Vivian.” I hate the desperate sound of my voice, but that’s what I am. Right now I’m so desperate.

  Her hand rests on my back. “Okay.”

  I sigh and turn the lock, but I don’t open the door. “Take your time. I’ll be waiting out here.”

  She furrows her brow as I step back and move to the side so I can’t see in the room when she opens the door. Her hand turns the knob with painful slowness, like she’s fisting my heart, squeezing it unbearably tight. I close my eyes and lean back against the wall as she steps inside and closes the door.

  There’s a good chance she comes out and says “no fucking way” then leaves my ass. I’m a normal guy in every aspect of my life except this room. A teddy bear or Barbie fetish would probably be easier to handle than this. I’ve never chewed my nails, but right now I’m biting the hell out of them. How long has she been in there? What is she doing or thinking? There is a window; it’s possible she’s halfway to Hartford by now.

  The door opens rescuing me from my thoughts or maybe torturing me with the anticipation of her reaction. I’m not sure which yet.

  Shit! She’s been crying. A sad smile pulls at her beautiful lips and she sniffles. “So 8 a.m. tomorrow?”

  I nod once.

  She holds out her arms. My wrinkled forehead isn’t doing a good job of hiding my confusion. “Carry me downstairs.”

  My dick, that decided to take a nap when she chose door number one, perks up. My brain sends the silent message that he will not be needed at the moment. I feel his disappointment, I really do, but this was a small victory and I have to believe our patience will pay off … eventually.

  “This is good.”

  I stop at the door. “I’ll carry you across the street.

  “Nope, I need to practice walking, even if it does still hurt.”

  “But you had me carry you up the stairs.”

  She shrugs. “I just like the feel of being in your arms. But I don’t need to look completely helpless to the rest of our neighbors.”

  I set her down and she leaves her arms wrapped around my neck. “See you in the morning,” she whispers and kis
ses the corner of my mouth like she didn’t just see something very disturbing upstairs.

  “In the morning …” I release her hand one finger at a time as she takes a cautious step out the door.

  *

  Vivian

  I’m giving myself a three-day reprieve from my troubles and Oliver’s. It’s not possible to make the memory of his reveal vanish from my mind, but I’m hoping my parents and my birthday will help distract my thoughts. The anger is gone. It’s been replaced with pain … his pain. He’s filed for divorce for reasons that are still unclear, but he chose to leave her before he met me. He technically never lied to me, he just didn’t tell me everything. And I feel with absolute certainty that he wanted to, but the words were too painful to speak.

  “Alex?” I knock on her bedroom door then start to open it. “I’m leaving—oh my God! I’m—uh-uh—sorry.” I exit as fast and unexpected as I entered.

  What the hell?

  “Hey, Flower, sorry about that. I forgot you were leaving this morning. Happy birthday, by the way. I have a present for you on the counter downstairs.” Alex ties the satin straps to her red robe and closes the door behind her.

  I can’t look her in the eye. “Yeah, um, so I’m taking off and … I’ll be back uh … later.”

  “Flower, don’t be embarrassed. You were the one who inspired us.”

  “What?” I whip around.

  She bites her bottom lip and nods. “The whole spanking thing. I think it’s kinda in right now. So Sean and I decided to spice things up.”

  I swallow hard. “He had you handcuffed to the bed facedown and blindfolded.”

  She waves a hand in the air. “Oh that’s nothing new. I thought you must have heard the sound of his palm slapping against my bare ass a few minutes ago. It’s kind of hot.”

  My cow eyes refuse to blink. “He’s wearing black leather chaps, a cowboy hat, and nothing else,” I whisper with a shouting exertion.

  She grins. “I know, it’s new. What do you think?”

  I shake my head like a dog, trying to erase the memory. “I think I need to get out of here.”

  “Have a good time!”

  “Um yeah, thanks, you too … I guess.” I lug my bag down the stairs surprised to do it without much pain. Alex brought home a box of second skin pads last night and they make walking so much easier.