by Laurèn Lee
We spent the first hour chatting about our daily lives and sipping several cocktails while simultaneously munching on our appetizers. We chose fried calamari and escargots for the entire table. It was truly wonderful to see our friends again. I had started to become lonely. Sometimes, you don’t have to be alone to feel lonely.
“So, Delilah,” Marcus began, “How’s the practice?”
James snorted, and I ignored his gesture of distaste.
“It’s going very well, thank you for asking,” I answered politely.
“Yeah, it’s going so well! Tell ‘em how many hours you work every week, Delilah,” James sloshed.
I dabbed the corners of my mouth with my napkin and smiled pleasantly.
Shut your fucking mouth, James.
Everyone looked confused, wondering if they were missing something, or if there was some inside joke they weren’t privy to knowing.
“It’s been rather busy lately, but I’m managing.”
Marcus nodded.
“Did y’all know my mom is dying?”
Jesus Christ, James.
“Oh no!” Joannah cried.
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Louise said.
“We had no idea, James. Is there anything we can do?” Daniel asked.
I held my breath, just waiting for the situation to escalate. There was no going back now, this secret of ours was out of the bag. I assumed the dinner wouldn’t be a pity party catered toward James. And, perhaps, that was exactly what he wanted.
“She’s been diagnosed with breast cancer, and she’s not responding to the chemotherapy or radiation yet,” James said as he wiped away a tear. “All I want to do is fly home to be with her.”
“What’s stopping you? I’m sure you’d be able to get time off for something like this,” Marcus assured.
“What’s stopping me?” James’ tone suddenly reeked with malice. “What’s stopping me is my bitch wife who won’t give up her practice and come with me.”
Our friends turned to me instantaneously as my cheeks reddened. James finished his umpteenth drink. I’d lost count.
“James, that’s enough,” I warned quietly.
“What? You don’t want our friends to know you’re not the perfect wife with the perfect life?”
“Hey, James. It’s okay, man. We’re here for you,” Daniel offered.
“That’s all great and shit, Daniel. But, what’s the point if my wife won’t do this one thing for me?” James hollered.
The patrons of the formal Le Verre Joli fell silent and all eyes glued themselves to our table. I didn't think it was possible to be this embarrassed, I wished I could’ve disappeared into thin air.
“I’m so sorry. I think we should go,” I said to our friends.
Daniel, Joannah, Louise, and Marcus nodded their heads. The night had officially gone sour with no hopes of a silver lining appearing at any time.
“Go? We haven’t even had our main courses yet, Delilah. I’m not sacrificing a week’s worth of my paycheck for squid and a whiskey sour!”
“James, you’re causing a scene,” I whispered.
“Heaven forbid someone causes a scene around perfect Delilah Hedley!”
At this point, the maître d’ came over to our table. I put my head in my hands, absolutely disconcerted.
“Is everything all right?”
James’ forehead dripped with sweat, and he had crimson blotches all over his neck and cheeks. His alcohol rash matched my lipstick and the embarrassment on my face.
“We were just leaving! Delilah, grab your shit. Let’s go.”
“I’m sorry,” I mouthed to everyone.
Our friends nodded and smiled. No doubt, they were mortified and would talk all about us as soon as we left. James and I walked out of the restaurant. I nearly had to jog to keep up with him. I had never been so ashamed to be out with my husband in public.
James decided he didn’t want to wait for the valet to retrieve my car, so he hustled over to the booth and pounded on the window.
“Keys!” he hollered.
Fortunately, the young man who had parked our car had also been the same man in the booth. He’d remembered us and promptly handed James the correct keys without having to search for too long.
I smiled sadly and passed the boy a twenty dollar bill without James noticing. We could see my car parked down the block. I walked behind James, not wanting to upset him anymore. We finally approached my car and James headed toward the driver’s side.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I questioned.
“I’m driving, what do you think I’m doing?”
“I’m not going to allow you to drive my car in your current state.”
He walked over to me and pushed me up against the trunk. His hands grasped for my throat, and I struggled to push him away. However, even though he’d lost some of his motor functions, he was still a force to be reckoned with and no match for me.
“What did you say?” he whispered.
I was having trouble breathing.
“Get. Your. Hands. Off. Me.”
“I wish I’d never married you. My mother was right. You’re nothing but an infertile bitch.”
I pushed him away as hard as I could, but with every ounce of strength I used to shove him, he held onto my throat that much tighter. I began to see stars. I wished I could scream. Call for help. I needed help.
“Please,” I gasped.
In an instant, James let me go, and I slumped down to the ground, rubbing my neck. Tears leaked from my eyes and I struggled to regain oxygen. My tights had snagged, and I had a run traveling all the way up to my thigh.
James and I had had plenty of arguments, an infinite amount of yelling matches, but never had he ever laid his hands on me, until now.
I looked up to him, and I saw a man I hardly knew. This was not the man I married. This wasn’t the man I once loved so deeply. This man was a stranger to me. A minute later, this stranger looked back to me, picked his foot off the ground, and kicked me swiftly in the stomach. He kicked me a few more times until I passed out cold.
6
Evening Herald
Autopsy Results on Jane Doe
Officials have announced they will pursue an extensive autopsy of the body found in the Evergreen River two days ago.
The county’s coroner and the police department believe someone may have murdered Jane Doe due to the head trauma present on the body.
“The woman, whose identity is still unknown, had blunt force trauma to the head and all her fingers and both thumbs were meticulously cut off,” the coroner said. “I will conduct a more thorough autopsy in the coming days.”
County officers have declared a murder investigation is underway and again, any individuals with information are strongly urged to come forward.
“We haven’t had a murder investigation in quite some time, but I can assure the public we have our best officers assigned to the case. I can’t imagine it taking longer than a week or two to have a suspect in custody,” Captain Moonie said.
7
Present
I stealthily looked at the clock and noticed the hour had nearly disappeared. It was time to end our session and say goodbye to Lucas. Although, I wasn’t sure how I could end our session after what he’d just admitted.
My heart pounded against my chest, and I could barely breathe. His eyes continued to penetrate into my mind almost as though a hand had been reaching into my stomach to grasp my heart.
“Did I shock you, Doctor?”
“No.” I didn’t know what else to say.
“You look like a deer in headlights about to be slaughtered.”
“I’m just thinking.”
“Are you scared?”
“Of you? No. Are you trying to scare me?”
“Maybe.”
“Are you telling me the truth?”
“Maybe.”
“I think our time is just about up, Lucas.”
“I know,”
he said looking at his watch.
We remained still, staring at one another, neither of us motioning to stand up. Lucas was my last patient of the day, so technically, I didn’t have to rush him out. But, I didn’t want him to stay either. Finally, I stood and held out my hand.
“It’s been a pleasure. Next week, same time work for you?”
“I can hardly wait. It’s refreshing to be in the presence of such an articulate and gorgeous woman,” Lucas stood, too. Instead of shaking my hand, though, he bent down and kissed it like a romantic beau from the old Nickelodeon films.
I felt an electrical shock travel through my body when I felt his lips against my hand. I imagined what would happen if this were a movie and not real life. Lucas would pick me up and throw me on my desk, shoving away all papers and files in the way. We’d shatter a lamp, he’d rip my nylon tights off in one fell swoop, and I’d let him.
This wasn’t a movie, though. And I would never violate my oath and have a relationship with a patient. I needed more than anything to keep this professional and nothing else. But, I didn’t mind the compliments. James rarely praised me these days.
“Have a good day. Please check out with Jennifer before you leave.”
He backed away slowly, managing to not run into anything while keeping eye contact with me. Before he closed the door, I saw him continue to smile through the crack waving goodbye and blowing me a kiss.
_
I tried my best not to take patient files home after work. I felt I needed to keep my work life and my home life separate, creating a healthy balance of my career and personal life. Tonight, though, I couldn’t help but bring Lucas’ file home to study. Before going home, I stopped at the liquor store halfway between my office and the house to grab a bottle of Chardonnay. I needed a glass of alcohol badly after my last appointment, and I doubted James would’ve left anything for me in the house.
James.
I just remembered he’d probably be home tonight. He didn’t have any prior commitments. I didn’t want him in the house, though. I wanted to be alone. I wanted privacy as I poured over the notes from today. I wanted to jot down more thoughts, too.
His car wasn’t in the driveway when I pulled in toward the garage.
Odd.
Maybe he did have something going on after all. He must have been at poker or something. I stopped keeping track of his social activities. As long as he had something to do and stayed away from me, I was happy. Such a miserable existence.
When I walked inside, I saw a note on the kitchen table; James had scribbled a message.
‘Dinner is on the stove. Enjoy.’
He didn’t say where he’d gone or when he’d be home. I didn’t realize it, but I had broken out in a broad smile. I had the house to myself.
I poured myself a glass of wine and heated up the dinner James had made— chicken scaloppini. Even though I’m sure it was a few hours old, the meal tasted divine. James always had a magic touch in the kitchen. Again, he probably had to learn because I hadn’t even bothered to teach myself. At least one of us tried, right?
By the time I finished the chicken, I had also finished my second glass of wine and felt a tad fuzzy. Most people would say they were tipsy in this state. I suppose I was.
Grabbing the bottle and my briefcase, I slowly staggered upstairs to my office. I only utilized the room when I needed to focus on a paper I wanted to publish or if I simply wanted space away from James.
It was a simple office with little decor. The walls were a pale tan, and several of my awards and degrees hung on the walls. It was the one place in the house which was entirely mine. James and I didn’t share this space. He had a big enough office at work.
I sat down in my luxurious black desk chair, poured myself yet another glass of Chardonnay and opened my notebook. I flipped through a few pages to find my notes I had taken during my session with Lucas.
-Murdered his parents... maybe
-Enjoyed their death even though he might not have killed them
-If he didn’t kill parents, who did?
-Intimidating, hubris
-Sexual deviant?
My last note startled me as I re-read it over and over again. Was Lucas a sexual deviant? He certainly had given off a sexual vibe during our appointment. I mean, what kind of person flirts with their therapist? Either he didn’t respect me, respect my work or both.
I flipped the page, disappointed to find I hadn’t taken any additional notes. This was strange for me as I always made lengthy observations while seeing a patient. I needed the notes to study afterward to ensure I had a complete understanding of the patient’s struggles which helped me create the best treatment plan for them.
I thought back to sitting in my office, across from Lucas. I remembered how he made me feel while telling me about his parents. On one hand, he had murdered them and seemed proud of what he’d done, and on the other, he could’ve imagined it all. I didn’t know what to believe or if I could trust him. Trust usually needed to be earned and not blindly given. Yet, I couldn’t help but feel intrigued. I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to know more about this man.
I logged into my desktop computer, opened Google, and typed Lucas’ name. Several articles appeared at the top of the search results page, most of which weren’t kind.
There were headlines such as “Monster Murders Family,” “Wealthy Son Burns Parents Alive”, “Self-Inflicted Orphan Stands Trial” “Lucas Let Off Easy,” and much more.
I had also read somewhere that Lucas had been the parents’ only surviving child and family member, which meant there was no one to dispute Lucas’ large sum of money given to him by the permission of his parents’ will.
He’d gotten away with murder and deposited millions more into his bank account. That’s the justice system, though. The guilty can be set free, and the innocent may serve.
I clicked the “Images” tab on Google and scrolled through the dozens of photos which has promptly appeared before my eyes. Each photo showed Lucas either staring intently into the camera or smiling. I felt as though he was looking directly toward me. I shivered and looked away.
The daydream which had struck me out of nowhere during our session drifted back to my consciousness, too. Lucas and I. Lucas on top of me. Lucas inside of me. I knew these thoughts were wrong and inappropriate, but I couldn’t stop thinking them.
My wine glass was empty, again. I didn’t bother pouring another glass. Instead, I simply drank straight from the bottle. I closed my eyes, and with my right hand, I massaged my neck. And then I cupped my breasts in my hand, playing with my nipple until it hardened.
Lightheadedness took over. I awed at the intensity I felt while my fingers traveled down from my chest to the top of my pants.
Another sip of wine.
Another vision of Lucas. Dangerous, devilish, Lucas.
I unbuttoned my pants and pulled down on the zipper.
More wine.
Lucas murdered his parents and watched from a safe distance while the flames engulfed them. He heard their shouts of terror as before they burned alive. My fingers moved effortlessly down further, and I took another sip of wine. My fingers slipped inside of me and I moaned loudly.
I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t help myself.
I felt my climax coming, and the wine was gone.
Lucas danced across my thoughts.
Almost there!
“Delilah?”
The downstairs door slammed shut; James was home. I couldn’t finish now. Not with my husband home. My face felt flush, and I needed a place to hide the wine bottle. I’d never hear the end of it if James found me drinking alone in my office. He’d see it as perfect justification for his solo drinking every night. No, he couldn’t see what I had been doing in my office.
Opening my filing cabinet, I shoved the bottle behind some old records. I zipped up my pants, adjusted my blouse and shoved my notebook back into my briefcase and under my desk. I’d retrieve it later.
For now, I had to go downstairs and greet my husband.
“Hi, James.”
“I see you found my note?”
“Yes, thank you for dinner. It was wonderful.”
“Glad you liked it. What were you doing upstairs?”
“Just looking over notes from today.”
He looked at me skeptically, “Your face looks red, were you drinking?”
“No,” I laughed. “Must be the office, it did feel rather warm. Maybe you can check the vents to make sure there’s enough circulation?”
“Yeah, no problem.”
Shit.
“How was your evening?”
“Fine.”
“Where did you go?”
“So, now you care about what I do with my free time?”
“James, please. I’m just trying to make conversation.”
“Met up with some of the guys. Marcus wanted to show us his new basement. They remodeled the entire thing.”
“Sounds great. I’ll have to stop over there sometime soon to see it.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I’m going to head up to bed. It’s been a long day.”
“Okay, I’ll see you up there.”
Reluctantly, I went upstairs, undressed, and climbed into bed. It seemed as though James wouldn’t be utilizing the guest bedroom tonight. I’d have to sleep next to him. But, little did my husband know, I’d fall asleep dreaming about another man.
8
Past- Two Years Ago
I woke up, glanced over at the clock, and saw it read three fifteen am. Both lights on the nightstand were on, but I had trouble opening my eyes to look around the rest of our bedroom. Struggling to remember what had happened, I realized my stomach and abdominal area throbbed with unimaginable pain. Tears leaked out of my eyes, and I gently felt my stomach to see if he'd broken anything.
“Delilah?” James whispered. “Are you awake?”
James did this to me.
“James?”
“I’m here baby. I’m here.”