I once again felt shame snaking through my body warming my skin, making me feel flushed and vulnerable. I gazed at him, seeing something that I could swear was love in his eyes and rushed to finish the statement I’d started. “I mean, for picking up my groceries, and for letting me cry on your shoulder, but I really have to go now. My husband is waiting for me.”
I replaced my still damp clothing and glanced at my watch. Ten P.M. I couldn’t believe it. Where had the time gone? Had I really made love to a stranger in a hotel room only a few miles from my own home? A stranger that now claimed we’d done this very thing countless times?
I didn’t know what to say. What does one say to a lover they don’t quite know?
“Listen, it was nice meeting you.”
I made my way to the door, for the first time wondering if Chance were married, if he had a wife who could be waiting for me in some hidden corner of the room. I shivered at the thought until it became real in my mind. I was thinking at any moment she could spring up, grab me, and plunge a knife into my body. I imagined my husband’s shock. The newspaper would spread the news for days. Our town didn’t have very much action. A woman murdered by the hands of a stranger she’d picked up in the parking lot of the grocery store would be very big news.
My husband didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve the snickers of having to bury an unfaithful wife. I knew it would worry him that I’d been unhappy enough to do this. I didn’t want him to think that this had been going on for months or years. I had reached the door when I felt the tears starting up again.
“Dimitra,” he called out to me. “What’s your name this time?” he asked. His voice was pleasant, not threatening in the least.
I turned around sharply. “My name’s Michelle. Michelle Powers.”
As I was looking at him, a strange sensation laid claim to my soul. Dimitra, the name he’d called me gave me pause. I rolled it around on my tongue. That name was familiar to me.
I wanted to back away from Chance, yet at the same time I wanted never to leave him. I felt what he was saying was true. This stranger had a claim on me.
“Well, Michelle, I’m sorry I made you cry. I can tell you’re frightened and have no idea what I’m talking about. I also know you’re wondering what you’ve done and if I’m going to stop you from leaving.”
He smiled then. A sadness that broke my heart filled his eyes. I remembered him holding me in the rain and suddenly it was crystal clear. There was no way this man Chance would ever hurt me, or had ever hurt me.
“I have to go,” I said to him, then remembered that my car was still in the parking lot.
“If you’ll close the door so I can get dressed, I’ll take you back.” He offered.
I closed the door rather sheepishly. I had been about to make a grand exit without transportation. “I should call my husband.” I looked at him as though for approval before reaching for the phone. I dialed, waiting impatiently for Larry to answer.
“Hi, Larry.” My voice sounded low and muffled as if my mouth were stuffed with cotton. I breathed easier as Larry didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary.
“Hey, where are you?”
“My friend Peaches is having some trouble with her husband. She needed to talk.”
The lie slid out of my mouth so easily that I almost thought it was true, until I looked at the rumpled sheets.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s been better.”
The concern in Larry’s voice was not making me feel the guilt I should be having right about now. I was only glad that there was no Peaches. No one to bring into my lie. No one that Larry would ever see, or talk to, to either confirm or deny my tale.
“Did you eat?” I didn’t know what else to say to him.
“No. I was waiting for you. I didn’t see anything on the stove.”
I felt a flush of anger. Couldn’t he do anything without me there? “Why don’t you make yourself a sandwich?”
“What do we have?”
“There’s ham and turkey in the fridge.”
“Do we have any soda?”
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
I had gone past annoyed at this point, but as I watched Chance dressing, I subdued my tone. “Larry, why don’t you check?”
“I could just wait for you to come home.”
“I may not be home for hours.”
“I’ll wait.”
“Are you waiting for me to make you a sandwich?”
“Well, I like the way you do it. Plus, I was thinking maybe we could have some desert. You know the kind I mean.”
He laughed then and I lost the last vestige of control. I was in a hotel room liberating my spirit with a stranger. I didn’t want to consider having mundane chores waiting for me at home.
“I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
I glanced at Chance underneath my lashes. He was pretending not to hear my conversation. I said a hurried goodbye to my husband and hung up the phone.
“I think you might want to take a shower.”
Chance’s gaze found mine. I didn’t know what to say, how to answer him. I’d completely forgotten that I undoubtedly smelled of sex.
I started for the shower, then paused. “Chance, is this the first time you’ve made love to a woman of color?”
“A woman of color? What in the world does that mean? Like I said, I’ve made love to you a million times before, in many skins. Surely you’re aware that in each incarnation it’s our soul that returns. Our bodies are merely vessels for our souls.”
“So your answer would be yes?”
Chance laughed. “My answer would be yes. I have loved you in all your glorious skins and I have loved you in every corner of the globe.”
“Were we ever in India?” I don’t know why I asked but the words just slipped out.
“Yes, we lived several incarnations in India. Our bodies never bothered either of us before. Does the difference in the color of our skin bother you in this incarnation?”
A flash of my dark-haired husband came to me and the poverty of India. Could it have been that country I’d seen in my many dreams? “No, Chance, it doesn’t bother me.” He was eyeing me strangely.
“You’d better go ahead and take your shower. I’ll dry your clothes with the blow dryer,” he offered.
Half of me wanted him in there with me. The other half wondered if he would toss the dryer into the shower and kill me in that fashion.
He laughed aloud. “Michelle, I’m not an ax murderer and I’ve never done anything like this before. I promise, I’m not going to do anything to you.”
I didn’t want to take my clothes off for two reasons. I wanted Chance again and I was afraid of my feelings. Never in my entire life had lust ruled. I had never really known lust until now. God, I prayed, help me please. Something is happening and I can’t control it.
I didn’t look at Chance, but went instead to the bathroom, removed my clothing and called out to him to come and dry them. The sound of the dryer made me pause and for a moment I peered over the shower curtain at this man, Chance, drying my clothes.
I watched as he held my blouse in his hand, running the hair dryer along the creases of the soft material. He was using his fingers to push away the wrinkles. I smiled to myself at his actions.
He held my blouse to his cheek and I saw him close his eyes for a moment. He had a dreamy look as though he was reliving a very pleasant memory. When he reached for my pants, I closed the curtain. I felt like an intruder on his life.
Suddenly it was more important to me than ever that he not think me a slut. But how could he not, when I’d done things with him that it had taken Larry years to persuade me to do. And with Chance I was the initiator. I’d wanted him and all the things we’d done. Sure I’d done them with my husband but I’d never really wanted to. I glanced at Chance once more, wanting him so badly I ached inside. Think I was a slut? I knew I had just become one.
“Chance�
��,” I stammered, “I swear, I’ve never done this before.”
“What? Taken a shower?” He chuckled low and I realized he was trying to put me at ease.
“I’ve never cheated on my husband, nor have I wanted to.”
I continued applying the bath gel liberally to my body. I had to keep my hands busy in order to talk. I had to make him understand what I’d done was so unlike me, to simply walk away with a stranger and make love with him. Even my fantasies had never included anything so decadent or dangerous.
“Chance, I’m a prude.”
For a moment I thought of all the things I’d done to him, with him, and I blushed crimson beneath the hot water. The heat my brown skin usually kept buried combined with the hot water and covered my body inside and out. My explanation was wrong and so was my reasoning, but something was beginning to take hold, some knowledge of who this man Chance might be. I couldn’t stop the loud sigh that escaped my lips.
“If anyone else had done this, I would be the first to condemn their behavior. I can’t believe I acted with such random disregard for my very life, or for my husband’s.”
“How do you mean that?”
I heard the hurt in his voice, hurt that I recognized. I didn’t want to say it, but it was truly what I was feeling. “You could have some disease that I have now gotten. For all I know you could even have AIDS.”
There were other things I wanted to say to him, but I managed to keep my mouth closed. What was I going to do for the next few months when my husband wanted to touch me? How was I supposed to get him to wear a condom for his own protection?
I heard the curtain being pulled away. Chance was standing there, a frown on his face.
“Do you think I hop into bed with every woman I meet in a parking lot?”
“I don’t know. I know nothing about you.”
“Michelle, you don’t have to worry. I don’t have anything.”
“How do I know you’re telling me the truth?”
“I guess you’re just going to have to trust me, aren’t you. You really don’t remember me, do you?”
There was sadness in his eyes and in his voice. The combined forces struck fear once again in the marrow of my being. I wondered why he kept saying that. I had never met him. Yet on some level I felt I had. But if I so much as gave the thought a chance to grow, I feared I would go insane.
“Michelle, I assumed you came with me because you remembered. I never thought you were a slut.”
I started to interrupt when he held up a hand to stop me.
“I’m not talking about this life, but a past life. We’ve spent many lifetimes together. You’ve been calling to me and I’ve been searching for you. For my wife.”
Okay, now it was time for me to end this madness, to get my wet, naked body out of the shower. It was time for me to return to my home, to my husband and my life.
“Chance, what you’re talking about doesn’t make any sense. I would have to be crazy to believe that,” I said and shivered, thinking of what Larry would say to me if he ever found out. He would definitely have more than enough evidence to commit me.
I dared a glance at Chance. “This is crazy,” I repeated. Besides, I’m not sure I believe in past lives.”
“Are you saying you felt no connection to me, that there’s nothing about me that appears familiar?”
The answer required no thought. Yes, of course I felt a connection to him. I don’t think I would have been able to make love with him if I hadn’t. I was hoping that knowledge would allow me to be able to sleep at night. Maybe then I’d be able to forgive myself for walking away with a perfect stranger.
“No, Chance. Nothing.”
“Then why did you come with me?”
He was staring intently at me, his blue eyes warm, his face curious. I wanted to lie, had planned on it. Then a picture of the two of us together in the motel lobby flashed before me. I remembered the way I’d felt when I saw him sign us in as Mr. and Mrs.
“You want the truth?” I stared back into those blue eyes that appeared to be penetrating my soul. He didn’t answer. What was he going to say? ‘No, tell me a lie.’
“I felt disconnected there in the parking lot, and somehow going with you felt like the lifeline I needed.” I reached for the towel and wrapped myself in it, moving as far away from Chance as I could get in the small bathroom.
“Do you mind if I dress in private?”
I held my hands out for my now dry clothing and put them on in the cramped bathroom. I was an adult. Playtime was over. No matter how I sugar coated this, I had committed adultery. My sins would follow me, of that I was sure. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d blatantly lied to my husband.
I wanted to tell myself that telling him I was with a friend was far kinder than telling him the truth. Surely that little lie shouldn’t count. But what of the bigger lie, the one I didn’t want to acknowledge. It hung at the back of my mind fighting to get out as I attempted to fight the overpowering feeling I was having for Chance. I couldn’t deny the hunger raging in my veins and in my heart for this man. When he’d closed the bathroom door in order for me to dress, I’d felt an undeniable loss followed by a sense of love as powerful as I’ve ever felt for Larry, maybe even more so.
Chance was no longer the danger. I was. And I didn’t know what to do other than leave. Loving a man I didn’t know, that was crazy I tried to tell myself as the ache in my heart grew. I was acting like a love struck prepubescent girl. I needed to rationalize this out. This had nothing to do with my feelings of familiarity concerning Chance or his talk of reincarnation. It was simply because in such a fragile emotional state he’d been there when I’d desperately needed a way to live, a reason. Of course I would form an attachment. After all, how many strangers would take the time to comfort a hysterical woman and hold her to them while she cried in the rain? That was all there was to it, a romanticized gratitude.
Now dressed, I entered the bedroom grateful that Chance had dressed while I was in the bathroom. I wondered if he had anyone at home waiting for him since he’d not bothered washing our combined smells from his body.
“Are you ready?” I asked. He looked at me before smiling and answering me.
“Yes, didn’t you think I’d be? Or did you think perhaps I’d try and convince you to stay?”
“It wouldn’t have mattered, I wouldn’t have. I was prepared to call and ask my husband to come for me if you weren’t going to take me back to my car.”
“Why not a taxi?”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Are you telling him where you were tonight?”
“Why hurt him? I never plan on seeing you again.” I noticed the smile creasing his handsome face. He didn’t believe me. He walked toward the door, then turned and held his hand out to me. “You never answered my question. Do you believe in fate, Michelle?”
“Not necessarily.”
“Well, I do.”
Chance tilted my chin upwards, his gaze locked on mine, and he kissed me slowly. Energy fused us together. I wanted to sob, ‘Oh my God, I found you.’ But I didn’t. I held those words in as the electrical charge filled me. His touch, his look, his love, I knew it. I needed to back away from him now, or I’d never be able to leave him. I could feel the sorrow welling upwards in my being. Sorrow that seemed to date back farther than I’d been alive. Instead of moving from him as his arms wrapped around me I held on to him for dear life, until I was finally able to plead softly in a whisper in his ear, “Please release me.”
His fingers trailed over my back, each touch igniting another part of my soul that had been dead. Tears streamed from my eyes as he slowly moved away. From somewhere the knowledge came that I’d not been asking him to release me from his embrace but from something much larger. Nothing in me wanted to leave him, everything screamed out the knowledge that was finally staring me in the face, the knowledge that I knew I was not ready or able to accept.
“I believe we were meant to
be together in this lifetime as we were in the past.” Chance leaned into me and whispered. “I don’t believe I found you in order for you to leave my life.”
We walked from the room together. I felt safer now out in the corridor hearing other people’s voices, couples maybe. Or could there perhaps be other strangers behind the doors making love in abandon with people they didn’t know, as I had done? I prayed there weren’t as many fools out there as I’d been.
We were both silent as he drove me back to the parking lot. It was only as I put my hand on the handle to open the door that he stopped me.
“Michelle, we will see each other again. It’s our destiny.”
“I’m not giving you my number.”
“I don’t need it. Just as you appeared in my life today you’ll reappear.”
He attempted to brush his lips across mine, but I moved away. In a matter of seconds I was in my car ignoring him staring after me. I had to race home while I was able. It was only my head that wanted to return home.
My heart and soul wanted to remain with this man Chance. My spirit wanted to run as far away from my husband and family as I could get.
Chapter Three
“Hon, is that you?”
It was Larry, his voice so cheerful that I was suddenly depressed. I wasn’t when I went away with a stranger and made love, but the sound of my husband’s voice filled me with a bone chilling dread.
“It’s me,” I answered him as I glanced hastily at the sink to tell if he’d eaten. He hadn’t. There were no dishes. And God forbid that he would have washed them after he was done. Where had that thought come from? I wondered. My husband had cheerfully done the dishes for twenty-six years. So had I. Washing dishes together had always been a time of bonding for us. Besides thinking of it as one of our chores it was something I liked doing. Immersing my hands in hot soapy water while Larry dried, I always felt that I was cleansing something more important than dishes.
THE AFFAIR Page 3