by Kara Jones
She rolled her eyes. It wasn’t so much she had a stick up her ass, as it was that she was actually starting to get out of the whole party-scene.
“I told you why, Stanley…”, she mumbled under her breath before glancing back down at her book.
“Yeah, yeah…” he growled. She could feel his head whirl away from the TV and his eyes fall on her. “Clinicals... fucking clinicals; you’re always all work and no play and I’m getting sick of the excuses!”
It wasn’t an excuse though. It was her fucking reality. Welcome to the world of Michelle, she thought, almost bitterly.
She really was busy all the time, and she knew that it bothered him. She knew that he was frustrated, but what he never could grasp was that she was frustrated too.
It wasn’t just the fact that she didn’t like always being the stick in the mud, always trapped behind a book, studying or busy with clinicals. It was also the fact that he never seemed to just grow up.
The fights had been going on for months now, and they were getting worse and worse by the day. It seemed like their relationship was on a downward slide, and she couldn’t help but wonder if it was even worth staying in anymore.
She wondered if she’d changed too much or if he hadn’t changed enough. It was as if he was exactly still where he was when they first started dating.
She glanced at the clock just over his shoulder. It was late; really late just like it normally was when he finally found his way back home after a night of drinking, but this was earlier than usual.
It was only 1:30 A.M.
He hadn’t gone out until 10:30 P.M., so to Michelle, him only being out for three hours was a miracle. He usually didn’t roll in until it was almost time for her to wake up, and that was the biggest thing.
It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy fun. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to cut loose every now and again — not as much as Stanley wanted to cut loose — but it was almost her bed time when he wanted to leave and she had to get up at the ass crack of dawn the next day to start her day.
She sighed a deep and exasperated sigh and slid off the couch, her book in tow. “I’m going to bed. I have to get up early in the morning.”
“You didn’t have to wait up for me!” he snapped. “I mean you’re an old grandma, so go to bed!”
She rolled her eyes and looked passed him. She was afraid if she did, she might say something she would regret, and truthfully, she didn’t want to start another fight. It was already pretty easy to tell that drunken Stanley wanted nothing more than for that to happen and she wasn’t going to give him what he wanted; not this late at night, not now.
“Good night, babe…”, she sighed, still not looking at him. Part of her code as a human being was never go to bed on a bad last word and, as much as he drove her insane, she did care about him… for some reason.
With one more sigh, she tucked her book beneath her arm and turned around to the couch to gather up her laptop, which had been sitting beside her like the trusty sidekick it was.
The aluminum back of her Mac was cool to the touch, as she grabbed it and pulled it up and beneath her armpit to meet the book she’d been reading.
“Good-fucking-night,” he growled, after a longer pause than she had expected. She honestly thought he was going to remain silent in her descent toward the bedroom. She hoped for it; at least, but of course, his drunken tongue wouldn’t allow it.
She rolled her eyes and whirled around, and when she did, she met his gaze; his deep, angered gaze. So angry that she couldn’t help but to look, actually look at him this time and follow his stare, which was deep into her eyes.
It would have been sweet, had the expression on his face been kind and compassionate; the way he used to look at her. But, the look in the depths of his eyes as they looked into hers was not a look of serenity. Not even a little.
It was a chilling stare; cold, heartless.
“Jesus, what is wrong with you?” She couldn’t help but to whimper. It almost made her sick how upset she sounded over the situation, especially because she knew that was exactly what he wanted.
“I’m sick of telling you what’s wrong with me. It’s always the same shit!” That was all he said before turning on his heel and storming off in a heated march down the hall, away from the living room.
She didn’t know what he was doing. If she was being honest with herself, she really didn’t want to pay attention to what he was doing because whatever it was, it was drunken douchebag Stanley — someone she had seen far too much of recently — doing it.
“Jesus Christ…” she moaned before tossing her head back dramatically and walking slowly, cautiously even, toward the bedroom.
She heard him in the bathroom, just through their bedroom as she approached the threshold, and didn’t even bother announcing her presence. She was ready to go to bed.
Without any sort of delay, she placed her laptop and book on the bed and pulled back the covers. She wasn’t even going to bother with brushing his teeth, not if he was in the bathroom.
A sigh of contentment expelled from her lips, as she sat down on the bed. Her body ached from the day, and her head was still pounding from all the hours of reading. She was more than ready to lie down.
Reaching her hand to her shoulder, she gave a nice, firm squeeze and craned her neck to the side. “Ugh….” she grumbled, tugging and massaging as she rolled her shoulders; anything to remove just some of the kinks that had formed throughout the grueling day.
She exhaled, letting the thoughts of the day leave her — even the rattling sound coming from the bathroom just next to her — and leaned back, letting her body become surrounded by the fluffiness of their pillow-top mattress, covered in Egyptian Cotton sheets. She hadn’t even changed out of her scrubs from her clinicals earlier that day, but she didn’t care. They were comfortable enough to be pajamas anyway.
It wasn’t even an entire moment after she had laid down and pulled the covers over her before Stanley’s thunderous feet stormed out of the bathroom and directly into the bedroom.
“Get out!” he growled, causing her eyes that had been closed to shoot open.
She didn’t even have the energy to fight back nor did she really care enough to fight back. So, instead of saying a word, she rolled her eyes and walked out, her eyes glued to the floor, refusing to look anywhere near his direction.
He was definitely going to have a lot of explaining to do the next morning.
She was just too drained to do anything about it at that point. She just wanted to get some sleep, and the couch seemed like a fine enough place for that at the moment.
“I’ll be on the couch…” she whispered, as she gathered up her stuff. She didn’t want to leave them behind in case he decided to get even more idiotic and break or tear something. Besides, she had to get up a lot earlier than he did, and she knew that he would be pissed if she woke him up to get her stuff.
She only heard an angered muttering sound from behind her instead of any real response, so she paid no attention to it. Instead, she just continued forward; her laptop and book tucked under her arm once again.
She got two steps down the hall before she heard the loud noises sounding from behind her...
Drawers.
Not just drawers though. The sounds were the unmistakable sounds of drawers being slammed, and it was followed by shuffling feet. She stopped dead in her tracks before turning back on her heel and peeking through the door.
He looked like he was just finishing up packing a suit case. “What are you doing?” she asked, groaning and annoyed by his dramatics. Only, he didn’t reply. He just zipped the suitcase and walked out of the room, down the hall, and completely bypassing her.
She followed after his heated movements and watched his every step.
“Where are you going?” she asked, as she hurriedly matched his steps. She wanted to stop him before he went out the door in full-blown idiot mode.
“I’m not going anywhere!” His head remaine
d glued to the front, refusing to look back at her, as he approached the door, twisted the knob, and yanked it open. “You are!” His words sounded more like hissing, as he gritted his teeth and threw the suitcase full of what she could only gather now to be her stuff. “Get the fuck out! I’m sick of this!”
Her head pounded and her breath left her. She felt as if someone had just whacked her over the head with something blunt and heavy; it was almost too much to wrap her head around. Three years... three fucking years! Was he really throwing her out after three years?
Was all that time just wasted?
“This relationship is over!” he screamed, as if to confirm all of her worst fears as he whirled around to face her. “Done!, Over!, Finished!, Stick a fork in it!, Get the fuck out!”
The expression behind his eyes was enough to make her heart shatter like glass dropped onto a cement block. She was heartbroken to see him so uncaring; so heartless.
She stood there completely dumbfounded. Was it really over?
She wasn’t the type to beg. She looked at him for a second longer, feeling a tear burn the brim of her eyelid and pulling with all its might to fall. She steeled herself with everything she had, refusing to cry. She couldn’t let the tears fall. She couldn’t give him the satisfaction.
She couldn’t believe it. To say that she was pissed that he was throwing her out was probably the understatement of the century, but at the same time, she didn’t have any rights to the house. Stanley had the job; the really good job, actually. He had agreed to pay the rent in order to facilitate a brighter future together, so the place wasn’t even hers. It was his; all his.
She knew that, but it didn’t mean that it didn’t burn just the same as she went inside and gathered her things. She couldn’t even look at him when she went back outside onto the porch. She just kept her head straight and her belongings held tightly. With only her clothes, the laptop tucked underneath her arm, and her car keys, she stepped down the two steps at the front of the porch. She really didn’t know what the hell it was that she was going to do. She was a student. She was broke; more than broke, actually. Hell, she was pretty sure her bank account only had about twenty dollars in it. That wasn’t even enough for one night in a trash motel.
So, where the hell was she going to go?
It was two o’clock in the morning.
“Damn you Stanley, you fucking asshole,” she growled and turned the key in the ignition of her Ford Focus. She was un-showered, exhausted, and had nowhere to go. Never in her wildest dreams did she think that he was capable of such coldness.
She shook her head, shaking away all thoughts. All she could do was focus on driving, which was hard to do with the pulling and tugging of her eyelids. She needed rest soon, and there was a likely possibility that that rest was going to have to be in her car.
When she realized where she was, she had almost wondered if she had subconsciously driven to the area. She turned her neck, and then glanced over her shoulders through her windows and mirrors. She was surrounded by large houses; large beautiful houses. It was definitely a nice neighborhood; probably the nicest neighborhood on this side of town; a nice, rich neighborhood, which pretty much translated into a safe neighborhood.
She sighed, partially in contentment of finally being able to find a spot to rest, and partially in sadness that the evening had come to this in the first place. She threw her car into park and turned off the ignition, closing her eyes for a second. She took a deep breath, questioning whether or not she was actually going to do this; if she was actually going to sleep in her car.
She nuzzled her head in the driver’s seat, making up her mind to get some rest. She was way too tired to think of any other option. She huffed and laid the seat down in a bout of frustration, only it didn’t move further than just a couple of clicks. It was stuck. “Fucking great!” she bellowed, even more frustrated than before, and completely enraged at the entire evening.
She flung the driver’s door open and jumped out before slamming it shut. She felt herself inhale sharply, ready to scream out into the cool night’s air, but she stopped herself before she did. She didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention to herself. Exhaling the air she had just breathed in, she grabbed the handle of the back seat as gently as she could and fell into the seat, hoping that rest would finally come and she could put the night behind her.
Chapter Two
He stood up straight, meeting the morning sun with a smile. He didn’t usually like mornings, but there was something about today that made him feel a little more welcoming of it. He wasn’t sure if the extra spring in his step was the fact that he’d just banged a couple of hotties the night before or if it was the fact that he was about to sign an incredibly large customer to his company.
His brown hair was tussled, and it swished in the wind. Bed head is what most people would call it, but he just looked at it as a trophy from the night before. That sex really had been incredible.
The day was calm, just a slight breeze, and the morning sun had just barely broken over the horizon completely. Small birds could be heard, and when he looked up, he could see them fluttering in and out of trees and on power lines just above him.
He felt a small chill roll up his bare legs as he continued down the driveway, rolling his large green trash can, clad only in a robe and slippers, nothing beneath the robe. His conquests had left just a couple of hours ago, and he wasn’t sure why he felt so rested, but he did; especially for such an early morning. It was still cool outside; he noticed as goose bumps started etching across his arms. He could only assume that was normal though. It was still really early, after all. The sun hadn’t had time to heat up the world around him or even dry the dew that he could feel beginning to soak through his slippers for that matter.
He took a deep breath, really enjoying the fresh morning around him. Normally, he took the trash down with a grimace, just before work. He was already showered, dressed to impress, and did a quick jog-down to take care of it. This time though, he was going slow, really taking in his surroundings. He couldn’t believe how gorgeous it was, and he wondered if that was what he was missing by sleeping in until right before he had to go to work every other day.
From his hilltop abode, he could almost see the entire neighborhood. There were several figures; only silhouettes from his distance, and they were walking down drives to retrieve newspapers or take trash to the curb just like he was. Unlike everyone else though, he was taking his own trash to the curb.
All the other people were no doubt servants – butlers, maids, doormen, whatever – doing the grimy things their rich bosses didn’t want to bother getting their hands dirty with. Chris wasn’t like that. He didn’t need “the help” to take his trash 30 feet down the driveway. That was ridiculous. He could afford it. He could afford to pay hundreds of helpers a full time wage; enough for each of them to carry one single scrap of trash to the curb. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was the fact that all the other rich bastards in his neighborhood were fat and gluttonous or they were just plain and simple old fucks – sometimes even a combination of the two.
He was young and in shape and, as long as that was the case, he wasn’t going to make some other person take care of something so small and simple.
His lips curved into a smile as he watched the workers do everyday chores. At least, they’re digging into the pockets of the lazy bastards, he thought. When his attention came back to the curb, as he slung the garbage can around to face the street, he noticed a car parked just beside his driveway. His brows furrowed as he stared at it.
He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen that particular car before. It didn’t belong in that neighborhood. It was an older model Ford Focus, forest green in color, with scratches up and down the side. It definitely didn’t look like it belonged to anyone in this neighborhood. Besides, there weren’t a lot of cars parked on the curb in this area… in general, for that matter. Most of the houses in the neighborhood had garages. They even usually had
enough for their guests too, if it happened to be one-of-the-old-farts down the streets’ kid or something. It didn’t really make any sense, especially not parked in front of his house.
He shook his head, shaking the thoughts away along with it before letting go of the can and turning on his heel. He didn’t really have time to think about some strange car, no matter how close it was to his house. He had to get ready to go into the office.
A man of Chris Thornton’s stature didn’t need to work; not really. This far along in his success, and his established company, he could have paid people to basically pilot it for him. He’d already laid down the ground work, but the truth was, that he enjoyed it.
The thrill of the sale was what drove him each and every day, along with the promise of making more money.
His freshly tailored Italian suit lie perfectly over his body. With every step, the expensive navy fabric allowed for the perfect amount of give, allowing it to flow effortlessly with each and every move he made. He smiled as he stepped into his garage and walked toward his brand new premium black Lexus. His tailor, Pablo, always knew exactly what he was doing. That was why he was one of the few that he was paying the big bucks to.
He flicked his wrist and snapped the unlock button on his keychain and smirked. His Lexus’s horn beeped once and he heard the click of the doors before pulling the handle and jumping into the driver’s seat. His new perfectly tailored Italian suit, brand new Lexus, and the promise of more money only made Chris even more giddy to get to work.
As he pulled out of his driveway, he knew that he was about to land one of the biggest fish he had ever landed before, which was saying something; considering his business was a billion-dollar corporation already. This customer though was a lot richer than he was, and with his new loyalty, his business was sure to meet its next projected level.
That same evening, when he slowed to meet his driveway, he held nothing but the grandest smile he’d ever held upon his face before. The day had gone even better than he’d planned. He not only landed the customer, but he obtained exclusivity.