I scowl, wishing he could offer me a better solution. “Are you saying I should stick it out in my dead-end marriage?”
“Have you tried counseling?”
Rolling my eyes, I get out of my chair. “I don’t love Liv. She’s not the woman I married. Like you said, she has bigger needs and I’m not the one for her.”
“Then get a divorce. There aren’t any kids to worry about.”
I picture Emily having a sweet boy we can take to the skate park. I’d like to think we can be happy. We can have a future together. Her father will surely turn the bar over to her, and we can live there.
But then my thoughts shift to Liv. “You don’t know Liv. She’ll make it hell for me.”
* * *
I’m running late when I knock outside Emily’s house.
An old scruffy man whom I assume is her father opens the door. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m looking for Emily.” I catch my breath as I zip my jacket.
“She ain’t here.” He bangs the door shut.
“Fuck!” I try her cell, and it goes directly to voicemail. “Where can she be?”
Right, the skate park.
My hunch proves to be right. Emily is working on the right side of the mural.
She doesn’t flinch. “You flake.”
“I’m sorry. I tried calling and texting you.”
She outlined a circle. “I ran out of battery.”
I embrace her from behind, inhaling the scent of paint mixed with cinnamon. “Do you forgive me?”
“It depends.”
Wanting to get a closer look, I inch forward, turn her around to face me. Her sunken eyes makes me want to protect her, but I’m not sure if it’s Emily the young, vulnerable girl, or Emily the vixen trying to tease me?
“There’s still so much I have to learn about you.”
“What do you want to know?” My hands grasp her cheeks.
Pursing her lips, Emily says, “Thank God for Google. I found your place.”
My heart pounds and I take a step back.
“Relax. Your roommate said you had to meet a client. She’s pretty cute, you know.”
Eying the skaters with their skateboard muffles the tones of Emily’s voice. “My roommate? Right, I don’t see much of her.”
I hate lying to her, but how do I break it to Emily that I’m married. Where do I begin?
“Neat Victorian home you live in. Maybe next time you can take me there for some afternoon delight.”
I force a grin. “Yeah, but hard with a roommate.”
“Better than my grouchy dad. And I thought you don’t see much of her.”
My heart sinks. It’s getting more difficult to pretend. “The walls are quite thin.”
“Right.” She laughs and jumps on me, nuzzling her nose against my neck. Emily always knows how to make me feel better.
We run around the park sharing a laugh like little kids do.
“Emily, whatever happens, I want you to know that I love you. You’ve been a ray of sunshine for me.”
“Stop.” She smacks my arm. “You’re acting like you’re going to die and I won’t see you again.”
“Nothing like that. Just feel that this is the right moment to tell you how much you mean to me. I’m sure there are guys who’d go crazy over you, but I’m thankful you chose me.”
She kisses my nose. “I could say the same about you.”
Her soft touch makes me melt. Embracing her tight, I tuck a strand of her hair around her ear and wish this moment would never end. Tonight, I’ll tell Liv.
* * *
Before going home that evening, I hop on the Bart train and ride from one end to the other, never getting off till the last stop then going back again to where I started. I need time to think. Nothing makes sense. What’s the worst Liv can do to hurt me? She’s most likely aware about Emily. Liv’s golden rule is for me to never meet clients at home, so I can’t lie and claim Emily’s a client. Should I tell her Emily is a friend? But since when did I have girlfriends? Considering Mark is my only friend.
I’ll tell her I don’t know who the fuck Emily is. Yes, that’s it.
Feeling beat and tired, I enter the house. Wilma purrs as I hang my coat. The house is dim, but if I’m not mistaken, I hear faint music. What’s that smell? Vanilla or is it cinnamon?
“Honey?”
She hasn’t called me that in years.
“Is that you?” Liv calls out.
“Yes.”
“I’m in the bedroom.”
I creep closer, and the music is louder. Is that a love song?
Opening the door, I step inside and spot Liv on the bed, surrounded by candles.
She pushes the comforter aside and reveals black lingerie. “Come to bed.”
All I can think about is Emily.
“Do you want a drink?” She approaches me.
“I’m good.”
Massaging my shoulders, she kisses my neck. “You look tired. Let me remove your shirt.”
“It’s fine.”
“I’ll fix you a drink.” She leaves the bedroom.
I hop out of my clothes and change into my boxers. Not once did she ask me about Emily, but I’m not giving in to her manipulative actions. She’s probably using reverse psychology on me. I’m getting a divorce. I don’t care what she does. Tonight, I will be a free man.
Liv comes back with two glasses of wine. “Try this.”
Taking the glass from her, I tell myself I could surely use a drink. Will help me relax when I tell her. Who cares if I wrote thirty days before I would leave her? I ain’t Liv, and I can’t follow a schedule. Thirty days is just too much. It needs to be done today.
Taking a huge gulp of the wine, I face Liv. It’s now or never.
14
Day 7
Liv
Today is the day our ship will dock, and I need to make a choice if I will go with Aiden and leave Olivia Walters behind. What makes me think I’m so impulsive I could possibly leave my sick husband? Nobody will buy my disappearance and what will happen to David when he regains his memory? I want him to look at my face and remember the love we once shared.
It’s too bad. I kinda enjoyed being Red and my rendezvous with Aiden, but the game is over.
All right, I have to be honest with myself. I knew all along David was having an affair. It was spelled all over his face. I smelled it in his clothes. His scent was no longer his. I didn’t need to read his thirty-day goal. A woman always knows when a man has been unfaithful.
The truth is, I wanted to feel what David felt when he met that slut Emily. He was going to leave me for that young pathetic bar lady who paints murals at a skate park. How could he do such a thing?
After being with Aiden, I understand David now. The romance causes you to produce that adrenaline rush like you’re young, fresh… as if you can do anything. I allowed myself to be his whore purposely, submissive and without wanting to know anything about him to keep the fantasy, only to realize how cheap my husband is to mistake sex with love.
I still can remember the bitch’s face the second time she showed up at my place looking for David.
“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “Is David around?”
With my grim face, I folded my arms. “My husband’s in a coma.”
She had that horrified look as she stammered, “Coma?” She gasped, her shoulders now slump, her face pale like powder. “Wait a minute. Did you just say he’s your husband?”
I straightened my shoulders, and my lips formed a fine line. “We’ve been married for ten years, and who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”
“Um, uh, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry,” was all she could say, and she dashed out of the door.
I never saw her again, but that evening, I passed by the skate park and threw bleach on her mural, making sure to leave it spotless. There was nothing this lady deserved than my vomit.
And so the night when Davi
d came home which I assume he spent the day with her, I dressed in my lingerie and put on some music and scented candles to try to lure David into making love to me. I saw the expression on his face, a mixture of confusion and fear. That was when I offered him a drink of wine, so he could loosen up. David, always the coward, took a sip―nope, a gulp. And I waited till the uppers and downers kicked in.
I saw it coming and couldn’t deny it. When the person you love collapses right in front of you with eyes flickering like strobe lights at a club, you know damn well you need to call for help. But I didn’t. I just stood there, listening to the waves of air emerging from his chest, counting the seconds when he would go. But he stayed, and I was Olivia Walters once again, the nurse who took care of everyone except herself.
So what do I do with Aiden now that he’s crazy about me?
One, I can continue to enjoy wild sex with him.
Two, I can use him as my accomplice.
Three, I can manipulate him into having an affair with Emily.
Four, all of the above.
You know what my choice is.
15
Day 8
David
I’m so tired. What the hell happened? What day is it? My eyes are heavy. Where am I? What the fuck! The TV is blasting, and the weather reporter is talking about the climate. “It’s going to be another foggy day in San Francisco.”
Where is that slim woman? She told me her name is Liv, my wife. I don’t remember her or if we got married.
“Darling.” A plump lady massages my arms, but I don’t know who the hell she is. “It’s just me and you, just like when you were little. Do you remember when we used to make snow cones?”
Is she my mother?
“Where am I?” I pull my arm away.
The lady showers me with kisses, but her voice sounds guarded. I can hear her well. “Don’t you worry, David. Liv will be back in a few days. She was stressed and needed a break.”
Liv? Did she mean the beautiful lady? Where did she go?
Mom adds, “Hope you don’t mind me watching cheesy movies.”
Eyeing her, I scratch my head. This is all so confusing.
Mom settles on the armchair beside my bed to my right. “You’re such a brave boy.”
Why is she talking to me like a little kid? Staring at the TV, I try to patch things together, but I can’t make out what’s wrong.
When the show ends, Mom rises from her seat and smiles at me. “I need to change your diapers.”
Glancing at my plaid pajamas, I jolt. I remember something. I hate plaid. Wait. Did she say diapers?
Not waiting for my response, Mom removes the blanket from my legs. I immediately rest my hands on my lap.
“David, you don’t have to be ashamed.”
Bolting upright, I try to wiggle my toes, but it takes a lot of effort like a slow motion movie.
Flashing me that tender look, she sends comfort to my fears. She’s my mother. I want to reach out to her and ask her what happened, but I’m too scared to know the truth. Am I sick? Am I dying? Why can’t I fucking remember?
16
Day 8
Liv
I’m back in my bedroom in San Francisco like it never happened. Did I meet with Aiden again? No, but I did send him a message. What’s the reason for having a friend when you can’t use them? My dear Christopher gave Aiden my card. As with all my lies, I added one more and told Christopher Aiden had been a wonderful chef who made me try different dishes while Christopher spent time with Patrick. I was merely writing a thank you card to show my appreciation for his kind hospitality.
We slept the whole plane ride back from Rome to San Francisco. Rest assured, I needed a peaceful transition from Red to Olivia Walters.
My mother-in-law left as soon as I arrived while I resumed my routine with David. He looks the same except for the pajamas he’s wearing. He hates plaid.
Giving me blank stares, David rises from the bed, clinging to my arm. We take baby steps around the room which seems like progress from last time when all he wanted to do was sleep.
His mouth carves into a smile. “Thank you.”
An image of Aiden flashes through my mind, sending me jitters down there.
I want to tell him, “In case you’re wondering why I haven’t killed you yet, it’s because I need to finish my thirty-day wisdom project, the one you thought I would never start. Unlike you, I always complete my projects.” But I don’t.
My mind is still reeling from what he did.
I’m not ready to get rid of you yet. Not till I make your slut suffer. Your coma wasn’t enough. She has to feel what I went through when I discovered you were having an affair, but I can’t do that alone. I now have an accomplice who has helped me rebuild my self-esteem after you trashed it.
My co-workers and the doctors encouraged me to think positive that David could regain his memory. Miracles do happen, but I like seeing him here helpless and alone. I’ve turned away visitors because I don’t want him to feel loved. I hate him!
The doorbell rings. It’s Vienna, the caregiver who watches David. I run downstairs and welcome her inside before I disappear into the night.
* * *
Aiden strokes my cheek. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
We are checked in at the Holiday Inn in San Francisco, and he’s glad to live in the same city as I do. A part of me shares the same enthusiasm as Aiden, but another side of me would rather leave that behind. As he gratifies me over and over again, I realize sex is a powerful drug that can entice you to do forbidden things.
“I sent you a card. You know I can’t just walk away from my life.”
Aiden embraces me from behind. “No more games, Red. For once, let’s be honest with each other.”
Honesty isn’t my best suit. I don’t know how many lies I need to maintain what I started, but I need Aiden more than he needs me. “There’s a woman I want you to meet,” I say slowly.
A grin spreads on his lips. “I didn’t know you needed someone else to satisfy you.”
“Silly. I don’t mean that.” I lean forward and reach for my purse to get my iPhone. Googling her, I show him Emily’s photo. “That’s her.”
“She’s cute, but not as attractive as you are.” He smirks.
“Her name is Emily, and her father owns a sleazy bar along North Beach called Skyline.”
“Okay.” He yawns. “And what do you need from this Emily?”
“I want you to fuck her.”
“What?” Aiden rises from the bed. “What the hell do you think of me? Some guy who fools around?” He shakes his head in disgust. “You and I, this is real.”
Wanting to throw up the seafood pasta I ate earlier that evening, I pretend not to hear him. “I want you to fuck her brains out till she falls madly in love with you, and then I want you to dump her like a hot potato and let her feel what it is to lose someone you love.” My hand forms a fist.
Aiden stares at me and rushes to my side while I rock myself to and fro and choke between tears. “I’m sorry. She took away the man you loved and you want her to pay, correct?”
I nod.
“Why didn’t you tell me in the first place?”
I pretend to sob some more so Aiden can pity me. “I didn’t want you to think I was a horrible person.”
Aiden holds me tight and rubs my back. “Pain is never easy. My ex-wife cheated on me with my best friend a couple of years ago.” The veins on his neck tighten. “Each day I debated whom I should kill, him or her? Or better yet both?”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because it wouldn’t bring my life back. The damage was done. There’s nothing I can do to fix it.”
“But they destroyed your happiness. You could have deprived them of theirs.”
Running his fingers through his hair, he says, “I found another way to make me happy. I opened my own restaurant and cook everyday.”
“I hate to cook.”
We laugh.
/>
“Tell you what. If that’s what you want me to do for you, then I’ll do it.” Aiden pulls me close to him.
“You’re serious?” My hand cups his cheek.
“Yeah. Whatever revenge I couldn’t do for my ex-wife and best friend, I’ll do it for you.”
I pick up the wine bottle on my night table and pour two glasses. “Here’s a toast to partnership.”
“Partners.” He clicks my glass.
Later on the way home, I realize plotting revenge is better with an accomplice. If all else fails, you can always put the blame on your co-conspirator. Lucky for Aiden that he gets to fuck two women. Awful for me that I get to sleep in the same bed with my enemy.
17
Day 9
David
I had the most disturbing dream last night, that Liv, the slim woman who is supposed to be my wife, tried to kill me. Replaying the dream, I remember not being able to cry out for help, not being able to move. My heart beats fast, and I’m almost sure I break into a sweat, but darkness envelops me. Where is the other lady who said she’s my mom? Am I alone? I can’t see. Wait. I hear someone breathing beside me. Desperate to cry, I’ve never felt so alone.
In my dream, music played in the background, and I could swear I smelled candles. A faint female voice called me to the room. Why was I filled with apprehension? As I entered the room, I spotted Liv underneath the bed covers, only revealing the top of her lingerie. Tilting her head to the side, she giggled and signaled me to come closer. Why was I hesitant to go near her? Liv pushed the comforter down and approached me with a tight embrace. If she was my wife, why did I resist?
Liv picked up the bottle on the nightstand and poured two glasses of wine. My mouth grew dry, and I needed a drink. She handed me my glass, and I took a generous sip. I wasn’t sure what happened next. Fuck! Why can’t I remember?
Thirty Days of Red Page 6