by Dawn Marie
The relief.
To my body…
To my soul…
To my heart.
It was a short relief but much needed.
Wanted…
However, a sadness came over me as he laid on top of me, still connected, still spurting his cum into my pussy, my core still gripping his hard cock. I wanted much more than this. More than him just fucking me. To have sex with me and maybe take me to dinner. To spend an hour or a day with me when he “could”. I wanted his love, his trust, his heart, his word, and his bond.
Dyane pulled out and away from my body, slipping to his side of the bed, his right arm flung over his eyes. I knew from countless times before, he needed space. He was in his zone and he often withdrew into his shell afterwards. It was hard to see the change in him. I wanted him to be…content? I don’t know the word right now…I just want him to be happy. Does that make sense?
There were a million things going on inside my head, and all I wanted to do was lay on his chest. For him to hold me close and whisper he loved me. But in a real world you know that doesn’t happen like you want it to happen. Does it? And just as the thought came walking through my thoughts, his cell phone rang. Breaking the silence of his breathing and mine.
I must say I hate his cell phone. Have I told you all the times I have threatened to toss the thing away? To smash it? But as a sworn deputy sheriff he always answers his phone. And he’s always getting called away at the worse moments. Did you know that? Did you know he’s married to his career? Yes, it tends to be that way. I was so wishing he’d be able to let go and live a little.
But…
Do dreams come true?
He speaks to whoever has called him. I get up and try to find my clothes. I take them into his bathroom and dress. I waste no time as I come back into the dark bedroom. He’s standing inside his closet pulling out his deputy uniform and unlocking his weapon from the safe. And it is now when I hate that damn uniform. In moments like these when it is just supposed to be me and him.
Dyane looks at me, my heart drops, the look on his face is one I didn’t want to see. Sadness and pain. Then it is gone, hidden from my gaze, in a blink of the eye as he puts on his tough persona. I swallow quickly, as I have a horrible feeling what he is going to say.
“I have to go to work, Dawn,” he explains. “You know this doesn’t change anything.”
“What?” I stutter, I can’t help it. I’m shocked but I’m not. Can you understand that?
“I can’t love you the way you want me to,” he harshly informs me. He walks to where I’m standing stone still and looks down at me. My head is bent, tears are starting.
“Why not?” I mutter softly.
“I just can’t…” he spits out harshly. “You need to go.”
“Just like that, huh?” I ask snidely. I am hurting. My heart is crushed. I love this man. Even when he’s harsh.
“Dawn…” he threatens in a colder tone of voice.
“I’m only good enough to fuck,” I say as I walk out his bedroom.
“Dawn!” he yells after me and I keep walking.
I don’t remember how I made it out his door or how I made it home. I just did. I cried all the way home. Can you believe that? Does it hurt still? Yes, it does. But in much deeper ways than a person can understand. I still don’t understand much now. I’m in shock.
Still in shock.
Still in pain.
Still hurting.
Still healing…
And…
Still in love with a man that doesn’t love me.
How awful is that?
How painful?
Hear my story and try not to cry.
Don’t feel sorry for me.
Just listen to me…
Support me…
Understand…I love this case-hardened deputy.
This intense man.
I am not giving up on us.
I’m not…
Not yet.
I can’t. I have come so far to give up now.
Gritty, hard-core, rough, raw, what-ever labels you want to put on him Dyane he’s the man I love and the only man I want to share my life with.
Does that make sense?
Therefore, I am not giving on him, on us…not yet!
Chapter 21
August 1st, 2016
The first day of August and I’m so tired I can’t get out of bed. Maybe the reason is I am just still depressed over breaking up with Dyane. It has been over a month since I walked out of his house. He hasn’t texted, called or came over. I saw him one day in town, as he was on the way to a call, he flew past my car so fast I barely made out the number on his patrol car.
It’s crazy but I waited all day for him to text me. To just say hey I miss you and I am sorry. Nothing. And you know what I think that is the most painful part of this whole situation. Nothing from him. The tears start again, I am so sorry, I can’t stop crying. I just wanted him to admit he was sorry for hurting me. Would you want the same thing? Can you understand where I am coming from?
I’ve been invited to the movies. On Friday night, in four days, my guy friend wants an answer. I’m just not sure. I feel awful. My eyes are red, swollen and puffy. I can’t stop crying. I can’t sleep. I haven’t been eating. I just feel tired all the time. I feel empty. I feel used. Forgotten. And that is not me at all. And that makes me mad as hell. Where is the happy person I use to be gone to?
I know I am not the only woman who has had her heart broken.
But…it hurts.
Do you know that much?
I know one thing I should get back to my old self. I need to survive this whole Dyane mess. And if I am not better by Monday I see a Doctor’s visit in my future. But I am not a person who likes medicine. I know I have been depressed. I know I must move on. But it’s so awfully hard to do it when I love the stupid man. Yes, he’s stupid for not accepting my love.
For not trying…
I want to hurl all over him. Terrible thoughts to have, huh? I can’t help them. They just wander through my thoughts and I can’t control them. I have a whole list of bad things I want to do to him. I don’t think I am strong enough to bury him in a pit full of red fire ants. If I was - that would be an option. Another could be slashing all his truck tires. But he’d know it was me…and…he’d probably handcuff me for real.
I need to eat something but nothing will stay down. I’m trying to nap but I can’t. I just want to sleep peacefully. I do not see that happening anytime soon. Groaning from the bile I feel coming up my throat, I pray it stays down. I hate being sick. I hate feeling sick. I just want to feel normal again.
Will I?
Chapter 22
August 8, 2016
As I sit in the waiting room with my mother at the Doctor’s office I feel scared and alone. But I am not alone, not really. I have my family but I feel alone inside. I am not motivated. As I look around at all the young women in the waiting room, I am the oldest there besides my mom. It hits me, as I watch these young women talk among themselves about their children, babies and due dates that I can’t turn back now.
Forty-three years old and I am nervous and anxious as hell. I want to scream! Yell. Curse. Instead of fucking crying. I am tired of crying over every single little thing. I am tired of being tired. I am exhausted from worrying about a man who doesn’t love me. I snort out loud and my mom looks at me funny. I am still thinking of him. Dyane.
“Ms. Little,” I hear my name being called by a bubbly, red-headed nurse. “This way please.”
I head towards her and the open door she’s holding with my mom behind me. As I follow her instructions and stand on a scale, I stare at the one-hundred twenty-five pounds’ mark and groan. This is real. I want to hurl. Again. Another thing I am weary of already. Hurling over everything. Peeing time and time again. Then she walks us to a room.
“Okay,” the bubbly nurse says, “Wait for the Doctor to see you and put on this gown, please.” She tells me, smiling at my mom.
Then she quickly leaves the room.
I grip the blue cotton gown so tightly my mom takes it from my hands gently and helps me to undress. I wore a sundress but still. I start to cry as my very own mother helps me to dress. It’s too much. All these emotions and feelings. I want to have the person, the man I love with me. My mom said I should have called him already.
Should I?
I don’t have anything to tell him. Not yet. Just because my mom thinks she knows why I am sick isn’t a reason to call a man. Now maybe the simple fact that yes, I have taken over eight home pregnancy tests which have all been positive. That may be a god-damn reason to call the blasted man. Maybe not. They can be wrong I still chant inside my head. They are wrong! Wrong!
It isn’t true…
I have been chanting that phrase since Saturday morning when I decided to buy some tests at the store. Ever since then, my whole world has blown up. My heart has exploded. I am a nervous, tired wreck of a woman. This is too much for me deal with and accept. As I twist the bottom of the awful hospital gown and groan about how much I hate Doctors’ offices.
My thoughts keep pondering how to inform Dyane of this new news. Will he be shocked? Angry? Will he help me?
Or, will he be a ghost?
What will the sexy Deputy Nelson do about us?
Is there still a us?
All questions stop as the door pops opens and the jolly young Doctor walks through the door. And, my body gets poked, questions asked, and my mom exclaiming dear God, dear God help us, so many times I want to faint.
Or, hurl.
Either one will work right now…
The news…oh yes, you want to know?
I’m expecting a baby. Due date sometime around the first of February. The ultrasound picture shows a little blurb, but it was done just as a check for my advanced age to make sure everything is okay. I have a list of things I am supposed to do and not do. But as a mother already, I already know these things. It’s not my first time. Doesn’t mean I am still not scared to death…because I am.
How do I tell the sexy deputy that doesn’t love me we are having a baby?
Chapter 23
August 11, 2016
I’m still in shock, denial, whatever you want to label it and I have not called or texted Dyane. I have been nauseated and sleeping. No energy to do anything. I can barely watch television, or walk around the house. I try to eat and sometimes it stays down and other times, well…it doesn’t. It’s been three days since my visit to the Doctor. And the picture of our baby, my baby…lays against my lamp on my nightstand.
It’s real.
And I have to finally accept the fact that yes, I am having a baby.
I’m sitting up watching one my favorite shows on television and eating a bowl of ice cream. My phone sits in my lap as I decide that I need to take the proper steps to contact Dyane. After I finish eating I am going to text him letting him know I must talk to him. I don’t expect a reply. But deep down inside my heart, I hope he does respond. I’m scared because now everything has been changed.
I send a text to Dyane: I need to talk to you it is important. Please call me.
And the wait begins…
I finally go to bed after waiting at least two hours for something. A text. A voice message. Something.
Nothing…not one response.
I am hurt. Surprised. Shocked. Angry. So many emotions and feelings climbing through my body. My hormones are a mess. After all, I am nurturing a life inside my body now. As I fall to sleep, I tell myself tomorrow I will go find him. To tell myself I tried…which I have.
I want to cry again but I don’t. I fall to sleep, with dreams of happy moments. And, it is surprising. The only thing in my dream that bothers me is I can see myself smiling, holding a baby swaddled in blankets, my three kids laughing around us, but no Dyane.
Is that my future?
Alone raising a baby without a father in his or her life?
Chapter 24
August 12, 2016
Friday afternoon
I had a good night’s sleep and feel better today. A bit like my old self. I am dressed in a bright, pink sundress and white flip flops. I washed my hair this morning and I ate breakfast keeping it down. Yea, me! I haven’t forgotten about going to see Dyane. I just decided to wait till I knew he should be at home. I made myself busy by doing household chores I hadn’t been able to do.
The chores we all hate. Garbage taken out. Dusting. Washing clothes and putting them up. Washing the dishes. Taking care of the pets. Paying bills and those kinds of everyday chores we must all handle. As I look over at the clock on the stove, I wash the last glass and put it up. It is lunch time and he should be home.
In case you are wondering…yes, I did also call and leave a voice mail. He didn’t respond to that message either. Which is why I have decided to go in person. My family doesn’t want me going alone but it is something I must do alone. This is something he needs to hear directly from me. Before it gets all over town and one of my cousins or aunts or a friend blurts out the news.
I’m not sure how to tell him.
I’m not sure how he’s going to handle this news.
I’m not sure of anything anymore.
Is this a good idea going by myself to his house? Probably not. But I am going to go since I am feeling better. I can’t help but to question why he hasn’t responded to my texts or calls. He was always prompt when answering my calls or texts before. What’s changed? Maybe because he can’t love me…and I wonder still…why?
Why?
Does that also mean he can’t love a baby?
Our child?
It’s time to finish getting my stuff together to drive to Dyane’s house. It will be the first time I drive myself anywhere since learning the news from the Doctor’s mouth. The little nagging voice in the back of your head you get sometimes, well mine is there, blasting…how are you going to drive back home afterwards?
Shut up, bitch!
My purse, phone, keys are in my hands as I lock my front door and walk to my car. My stomach is twisting and turning inside making me suddenly very, very nervous. I do not know what I am going to say to him. I don’t know how to say it. Do I make small talk and then spill the news? Do I blurt it out all at once? I talk to myself the whole drive to Dyane’s house. I am not even sure he will be home. Sometimes he works extra shifts or emergencies.
I am taking a gamble he will be home on Friday afternoon. He usually took off on Friday’s so we could spend the night together. But who knows what he has been doing since almost a whole month has gone by. That nagging voice keeps asking why hasn’t he contacted me and I’m anxious for that one reason. Also, scared to face him after what has happened between us.
Why are relationships so complicated?
I ask myself that question as I turn down his road. I slow down to a crawl as I get to his driveway. I stop my car at the end of the driveway, as a strange car is parked next to his huge white truck. He has company. Do I come back another day? Do I park and see him now? I am not sure what to do. But a sudden pain in my stomach tells me I must pee. Now!
I make the quick decision and park behind his truck. As I turn off my car, grab my purse, pushing my keys into a side pocket I get out. I’ve been up this walk too many times to count, but now it is suddenly a walk to my death. It feels that way. Or, maybe a long walk into the gates of a prison. It’s that stomach-turning feeling which doesn’t help with the awful urge to pee.
Knocking quickly and loudly with two taps on his white front door, I wait for him to open the door. I wait for like a minute, still no Dyane. I knock again very loudly, hard knocks, or at least as hard as my small fist can make. And I am waiting. I need to pee now so badly I am not sure how much longer I can hold it. Then I hear footsteps, and the unlocking of the deadbolt.
Stepping back an inch, the front door swings open, Dyane stands there with a scowl on his face as he sees me. He’s dressed in only a pair of dark blue jeans. God, he is s
omething to look at. Sex appeal just oozes off him. He glares at me, and I recognize he’s not happy to see me. Too bad, I think. I smile at him. After all, I can’t do what I really want to do and slap the shit out of him. Kick him in balls maybe, now can I?
“Dawn,” he growls harshly. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Hi Dyane,” I exclaim happily as I push myself past him into his living room. No one is there which I find odd since a car is parked outside. But I must pee so I just head to the hallway bathroom.
“Excuse me,” he yells after me. I keep marching to the bathroom.
As I go into the bathroom I glance quickly into his bedroom, the door open as I shut the bathroom door. I gulp down a mouthful of yuck as I see a woman lying on his bed. Lifting the seat on the toilet I sit down, and pee. Closing my eyes, I wish now I had not come. I shouldn’t have come. Peeing makes me feel better physically but mentally I am a basket case.
Just as I lean to get up, the bathroom door swings open and scares me. I yelp a small gasp as Dyane fills up the small space with his large intimidating body. He shuts the door with a silent click. Quickly I push my dress down, hiding my panties, walk to the sink to wash my hands. He stands there against the back of the door and watches my every move.
“What the fuck, Dawn!” he yells at me. I glance into the mirror and his navy-blue eyes are furious. I knew this wasn’t going to easy.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “I had to pee.”
“Really?” he spits out. “I mean why are you here? Uninvited?”
“I need to talk to you,” I tell him, looking him in the eyes. I am suddenly serious.
He doesn’t say anything. His bare chest is hard to ignore. Especially when I want to touch him, hug him, kiss him. A voice calls out, I flinch, and he twitches his cheek. “Dyane, everything alright?” the female voice asks. I lift my eyes as to say “really” and he doesn’t move.
“Fine,” he tells her. “I’ll be out in a sec.”