Role-Play

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My name is Ezra and I’m an Angolan woman married to Francisco, a Portuguese businessman.  We have been married for ten years.  We have two children, a boy named Bento and a girl named Mafalda.  We live in Luanda.  During the week, I’m at home alone because Rodrigo is at the office and the children are in school.  I’m a housewife and I love it.  I love taking care of my family.

From the time I was seven years old, I knew that I wanted to be a homemaker when I was older.  My mother, God bless her soul, was my inspiration.  I watched her work tirelessly and happily to take care of the home, my father, my siblings and me.  When I was old enough, I helped around the house.  She taught me how to cook and keep a clean house.  She told me that one day I would be a wife and it was best to start learning how to do things as early as possible.  Sadly, she didn’t live to see me get married or hold her grandchildren.  My father and my siblings were at my wedding.  They were happy for me and warmly welcomed Rodrigo into the family.  They weren’t upset that I married a European man instead of an African man.

Rodrigo and I met when I was working as a cook at a restaurant owned by a family friend.  He came in there one day to have lunch with a client.  After having my Fish Calulu, he wanted to meet me to personally compliment me on the dish.  Feeling a little self-conscious after being in the hot kitchen all morning and not having enough time to fix myself up, I went into the dining-room.  He stood up as I approached.  He was tall and very attractive in his expensive looking grey suit.  I was immediately attracted to him.  He smiled and said in Portuguese, “I wanted to personally tell how much I enjoyed the Fish Calulu.  It’s the best I’ve ever had.”

I smiled shyly.  “Thank you.”

His client had left so we were alone.  “My name is Rodrigo,” he said, extending his large hand.  I looked at it before placing my hand in it.  The long fingers closed over mine in a firm handshake.

“I’m Ezra.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ezra.  I wonder if you would like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

I gulped.  He was asking me out on a date.  I could hardly believe it.  It took a moment for me to say, “Yes.”

“Good.  I’ll meet you here at eight.  “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”  I watched him leave and then returned to the kitchen.

The following night we went for dinner at a popular Portuguese restaurant.  Afterwards, we went for a drive.  We saw each other regularly after that and the following year, we got married.  I quit my job at the restaurant after learning that I was pregnant with Bento.

Life with Rodrigo ideal.  Our sex life is amazing  and sometimes, we indulge in role play which add a little spice to the marriage.  Lately, I have been dressing up as a slave girl while he pretends to be my slave master.   But this is happening way too often.  He wants to do it for every lovemaking session.

Last night, he pulled my dress down about my waist and turned me around so that my bare back was to him and had me hug the bedpost.  He got the whip he had bought from one of those sex stores and started to use it on me.  It didn’t hurt but Rodrigo wanted me to pretend that it did.  When he was done, he dragged the dress off and threw me down on the bed.  I lay there while he ravaged me, staring up at the ceiling and wondering if this nightmare would ever end.  What had started out as harmless fun had become something I dreaded and desperately wanted to stop.  I wanted to be his wife and lover again not his slave.

I’m sitting here in the kitchen, staring out at the window.  I have made up my mind to tell Rodrigo that I’m not going to be his slave in the bedroom anymore.  And if he cares about me and our marriage, he will respect my wishes.  Worst case scenario, I will pack up and leave.  And of course, take Bento and Mafalda with me.

Hours later, I’m in the bedroom and Rodrigo walks after taking a long, hot shower.  He’s stark naked and by the looks of him, he’s in the mood.  I’m standing by the bed, wearing one of my nightgowns.  The slave girl garb was tossed in the garbage along with the whip.  I was very determined not to subject myself to that again.  Before he could say anything, I said, “Rodrigo, I’m Ezra, your wife, not your slave girl.  I don’t ever want to play that role again.  I didn’t mind doing it the first few times but you want to do it every time and it’s no longer fun for me.  It has become degrading.  I refuse to do it any more.”

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Rodrigo stared at me.  Silence filled the room and I found myself holding my breath as I waited for him to say something.  He came over to me and putting his hands on my shoulders, he said as his eyes met mine.  “Me desculpe, querida.  I’m sorry.  I should have realized that this particular type of role playing would affect you.  It was very insensitive of me.  Please forgive me.”

Relief washed over me like a tidal wave and I hugged him around the waist and buried my face in his chest.   He will never know how close I came to leaving him if he had not respected my wishes.

Role-play in marriages is healthy and exciting but make sure that both of you are having fun. Never indulge in role-play which will demean or devalue either of you.

The Photographer

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He watched her, camera ready to take pictures.  She didn’t seem to notice him as she stood there, alone, apart from the others, in her the black off the shoulder dress and wearing what looked like tassel earrings.  He knew because his ex-girlfriend used to wear them too.

He was supposed to be circulating around the room, snapping pictures but after spotting her, he was riveted to that spot.  He supposed he could go ahead and just take the pictures like he was hired to but he wanted her undivided attention. So, he waited.

She turned her head suddenly and saw him.  Their eyes met and held.  Then, he went over to her.  “Hi,” he said.  “I hope you don’t mind me taking your picture.”

“You’re the photographer,” she replied.

“Yes.  My name’s Gaston.”  He held out his hand.

“Kiana.”  She smiled as they shook hands.  “Pleased to meet you and the answer is no.”

His eyebrows rose quizzically.  “No?”

“You asked if I minded you taking my picture.  The answer is no, I don’t.”

He smiled.  “Good.”  He took several.  “Are you here alone?”

She nodded.  “Yes.  Are you married?”

For a moment he was startled then he saw her looking at the ring on his right hand.  “No, I’m not married.  This is my father’s ring.  I have been wearing it since he passed away a year ago.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.  “Were you close?”

“Yes, we were.  Are you cold?”

She nodded.  “A little.  It suddenly gotten a little drafty in here.”

He removed his jacket and draped it around her.  This close, she smelled wonderful.  “Here you go,” he said softly.  “This should keep you warm.”

She smiled up at him.  “Thank you.”

“Pardon me for asking but, do you have un petit copain–a boyfriend?”

“No.  What about you?  Do you have a girlfriend?

“No.  I’m a single man.  After this fête is over, would you go out for a drink with me?”

“Sure.”

Bon.  I hate to leave you, Kiana, but I must get back to doing what I was hired for.  I will see you later.”  He excused himself.

She watched him go and for the rest of the evening, she could think of nothing else but him and his incredible eyes.  As soon as the party was over, he was at her side.

This was written for the Ragtag Daily Prompt for today’s prompt, tassel. If you’re interested in participating, click HERE for more information.

Addie’s Little Adventure/Invitation #writephoto

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Photo by Sue Vincent

Everyday after school, I took a shortcut so that I would walk past the mansion where the English couple lived. And every time I paused to peek through the gates which were always ajar and stare at the strange faces on the posts. Behind and above the gates was foliage which swayed from the gentle summer breeze. Mama used to work there before the Mistress fired her. She accused Mama of stealing. Mama denied it, of course. Mama said that the Mistress didn’t like her because she was black. The Master was away when Mama got fired. The Mistress told her that if she showed her face at the mansion again, she would report her to the police.

Mama was sorry to lose the job because it helped to take care of my sister and me but she didn’t have a choice. For months she couldn’t find a job because the Mistress refused to give her a reference but the Master gave her one. Mama said that he was always very kind to her. That’s why I’m fixing to meet him so I could thank him for being good to my Mama.

The gates were ajar. After glancing around me to make sure that no one was around, I pulled it open so that it was wide enough for me to pass through. I pushed it in behind me. I looked around me. I felt like Alice in Wonderland. The grounds stretched endlessly in all directions. They looked like a giant green lush carpet rolled out. The sweet smell of roses and bougainvillea filled the air as I walked between them, my heart racing. I was on private property. I could get into trouble for trespassing. What if someone caught me and took me to the Mistress. That thought alone stopped me in my tracks. Maybe coming here wasn’t such a good idea. I’d better get out of here NOW.

I turned and started to head back to the gate when I heard a man’s voice behind me. I froze. I was afraid to turn around. I stood there. I don’t know for how long before he came and stood in front of me. He was tall and very attractive with black hair and grey eyes. He was dressed as if he had been out riding. For some insane reason, he reminded me of Mr. Willoughby from Sense and Sensibility. His gaze narrowed as he studied me.

“Have we met before?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No.”

“You look familiar.”

“I’m—I’m Mabel Brown’s daughter, Addie.”

His expression brightened. “That’s why you look so familiar. How is your mother?”

“She’s doing well. She got another job.”

“I’m happy to hear that. I was sorry to lose her.”

“That’s why I came here. I wanted to thank you for giving Mama a reference.”

“It was the least I could do after what my ex-wife did.”

“Your ex-wife?”

“Yes. We’re no longer married.”

“Is it because she fired Mama?”

“It was the last straw.”

“I’m glad she’s no longer here. I was afraid that if I got caught I would have to face her.”

“You don’t have to worry about her anymore, Addie.”

“Is she back in England?”

“Yes. Are you in a hurry to leave?”
I shook my head. “I was but I’m not anymore.”

“How would you like a tour of the grounds?”

My face brightened. “I’d like that very much.”

He smiled. “Come along then. You came all this way to thank me. The least I can do is to show you around.”

As we walked, my eyes drinking in my surroundings, I thought of Mama and what she would say if she were to see me now, walking on the grounds of the fine mansion where she used to work. She was right about her former employer. He was a really nice man not to mention, very attractive. I was happy that he was no longer married and it wasn’t only because I disliked his ex-wife. Stop filling your head with romantic notions. He’s a grown man. He’s not going to be interested in a school girl.

“How old are you?”

We were standing by the fountain and I was watching the water as it cascaded when he asked the question. I turned and faced him. “Seventeen.”

“I’m twice your age.”

“You look much younger.”

He smiled. “I have my father to thank for that. He too appeared to be much younger than he was.”

“Are your parents still alive?”

“Yes. They are living in Marseilles where my mother was born. Are you dating anyone?”

I shook my head. “I’m not interested in any of the boys at school.”

My answer seemed to please him. “If I didn’t have to attend to business now, I would invite you to stay and have tea with me. Are you free tomorrow afternoon, say around the same time?”

Heart racing with excitement, I nodded eagerly. “Yes, I’m free tomorrow.”

He smiled. He had such an amazing smile. It made his eyes twinkle and my stomach flutter. “Good. Tomorrow afternoon, then.”

We walked back to the gate. As we stood there facing each other, I held out my hand. “Thank you for the tour.”

“You’re welcome, Addie.” He shook my hand and when he released it, I could still feel where his fingers had been. The skin tingled. “I’ll be waiting here for you tomorrow afternoon. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.” I waved before I turned and walked away. Halfway down the street, I realized that I didn’t even know his name. Not to worry. I’ll find out tomorrow.

 

This was written for the #writephoto Prompt – Invitation at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.

Pauline’s Predicament

Pauline was walking down the street heading towards the subway when she heard someone call her name.  She turned and saw Larson, her fiance’s friend.  Smiling broadly, she stopped and watched as he approached.  She was always delighted to see him.

When he reached her, they hugged.  “You look great,” she said as they separated.  He was wearing a grey pinstripe suit and a matching tie over a white shirt.  With his looks he could have been a model but he was a CFO at a multi-national company.

“Thank you,” he replied.  “You look terrific, as always.”

His compliment made her feel good and her smile deepened.  “So, how are you doing?  It has been a while since Karson and I last saw you.”

“I’ve been keeping busy.  How are Karson and you doing?”

“Fine.  He went away on a business trip to Toronto.”

“For how long?”

“A month.”

“What are you going to do while he’s away?”

She shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Maybe hang out with my friends or catch up on my reading.  Or maybe you’d like to come over on the weekend and we can spend time together.”

“I’d like that.”  He glanced at his watch.  “I’m sorry I can stay longer and chat but I have to get back to the office now.  I have a meeting in twenty minutes.  It was great running into you, Pauline.  I’ll be in touch.  Please tell Karson I said hi the next time you speak to him.”

“I will.  Call me.”

“I will,” he promised.  He watched her walk away before heading in the opposite direction.  As he walked, he wondered if it would be wise for him to visit her when Karson wasn’t there.  He was totally attracted to her.  When they hugged, he tried to hold her in such a way that she couldn’t feel his arousal.  The last thing he wanted was for her be aware of his feelings which were growing by leaps and bounds.  Those feelings were the reason why he hadn’t been visiting.  When he called her, he would suggest that they go somewhere.

Pauline reached the platform and waited for the train.  It was great running into Larson.  It had been a while since she last saw him.  She missed him.  In the past, he used to visit Karson and her often but lately, he wasn’t.  Perhaps, he was just very busy since the promotion or maybe he had a girlfriend.  The mere thought of him having a girlfriend made her jealous.  I shouldn’t be feeling this way, she chided herself.  He’s Karson’s friend.  But, she couldn’t stop thinking about how it felt when they hugged.  She had her arms around his neck and he had his around her waist.  The scent of his cologne and the feel of his hard body against hers made her head spin.  The hug seemed to last longer than it should have.  And when they parted, she wondered if he also sensed the sexual tension between them.

She somehow managed to act as if nothing was amiss but her body and senses were in turmoil.  Inviting him over to the house while Karson was away was a crazy and reckless idea but she wanted to see him again.  She couldn’t let another month go by without seeing him.  Maybe instead of them being in the house, they could go somewhere.  When he called, she would suggest that.

Three weeks passed and he still hadn’t called Pauline.  He had come to the conclusion that it would be best if they didn’t see each other.  He would wait until Karson was back and maybe drop by for a visit.  On a Saturday night, the week before Karson was due back in London, Larson was relaxing on the sofa, reading a book when the doorbell rang.  He closed the book and set it down, not particularly thrilled at the interruption.  When he looked through the keyhole, his heart leapt in his chest when he saw Pauline standing there.  What is she doing here?  Sucking in his breath, he drew back the latch and opened the door.  His expression was tense as he looked at her.

She was wearing a red dress which accentuated her lovely complexion.  “Good evening.  May I come in?”

He moved aside so that she could enter the foyer and closed the door.  His heart was pounding and his head was spinning.  When he turned around he tried not to let his gaze drop below her face.  “You shouldn’t be here, Pauline,” he said quietly.

“You didn’t call so I thought I would come by to see if you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.  I was reading.”

“I wasn’t sure that you would be home on a Saturday night.”

“My weekends are usually very quiet.”

“What about a girlfriend?”  She had to know.

“I don’t have one.”  Was that relief he saw on her face before she turned away?  He moved away from the door and followed her into the  living-room.  While he sat down on the steps, she walked over to the windows and looked out.

“What an incredible view,” she remarked.  “I remember the first time I came here.  While you and Karson were talking, I came over here and stood for a long time just admiring the view.”

He didn’t answer.  Instead, he watched her, a pulse throbbing along his jawline.  This time he couldn’t prevent his eyes from traveling down her slender body as she stood with her back to him, watching the flickering lights of the city.  The dress hugged her in all the right places and it revealed her shapely legs.  He fought to resist the temptation to go over there and…

She turned around and came over to him.  “So, why didn’t you call me, Larson?” she asked.  “You said you would.”

“I’ve been busy,” he muttered.

“Too busy to call?”

She was standing in front of him now, looking down at him.  He was finding it hard to breathe now.  He should get up and move as far away as possible from her.  Maybe he should tell her that he wasn’t in the mood for company or that he just remembered, he had somewhere to go.  Anything to get out of this but, he just sat there, looking up at her and thinking about how sexy she looked in that bloody dress.  “Pauline, I think you should go,” he muttered tightly.

For a moment she looked a bit taken aback and then she shrugged.  “All right.  I’ll go.  I’m sorry I interrupted your evening.  I’ll see myself out.”  She started up the steps when contrite, he stood up and blocked her.

“I’m sorry,” he said.  “It’s not that I don’t want you here.  The problem is that I do.”

“Then why do you want me to go?”

His eyes darkened on her upturned face.  “I’m afraid that if you stay I will be tempted to make a pass at you.”

She looked straight into his eyes and said, “Maybe that’s why I came over tonight.”

When he saw her eyes drop to his mouth, it was his undoing.  Groaning, he caught her by the shoulders and pulled her against him.  His head swooped down and his hungry mouth sought hers.

Pauline put her arms around his neck and kissed him back.  She knew that coming over here tonight could lead to this but it was something she had wanted for a very long time.  Deep down she knew that if she had met Larson first, she wouldn’t be with Karson.  Desire raged inside her like an inferno and breaking off the kiss, she dragged the denim jacket off and then pulled the tee shirt over his head.  She bent her head and pressed her lips against his heaving chest.  He closed his eyes as he felt her warm breath on his bare skin.

Then, he pulled her head back to devour her mouth.  For several minutes his lips plundered hers as his insatiable desire for her consumed him.  He picked her up and carried her to his room.  After kicking the door shut, he carried over to the bed and laid her on top.  He dragged the dress off before removing the rest of his clothes.  Then, his hands and lips were all over her body, driving her wild.  Her nails clawed at the skin on his back.  They made love on top of the duvet.

When it was over and they lay there entangled and spent, she turned her head towards him and said, “When Karson comes back, I will give him back his ring and move out.”

“What if he asks why?”

“I will tell him the truth.”

“I’m going to lose a very good friend.”

“I know,” she said, her face lined with deep regret.  “I wish I’d met you first.”

“Me too.”  He leaned down and kissed her on the shoulder.  “I’d like you to move in here with me.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, reaching up and brushing the hair back from his forehead.

“Yes.”

She smiled.  “Okay.”

He gazed into her eyes as he whispered, “I love you.”

She reached up and pulled his head down to hers.  “I love you too,” she murmured against his lips.

The following week, she gave Karson his engagement ring back and moved out.  He was livid and that was to be expected.  She moved in with Larson.  A year later, they got married.

Heartstrings

“I love the way you play,” he said.

I smiled, flattered.  “Thank you.”

We were standing backstage at Carnegie Hall.  I had invited him to the performance and was thrilled that he actually came.

“The way you played that piece it was as if you were telling a story.  You had me hooked.”

“Joshua Bell, the celebrated violinist once said that when you play a violin piece, you are a storyteller and you’re telling a story.”

“I would like to hear your story.  How about going for a cappuccino with me?”

“Yes,” I said without any hesitation.  I wanted to be with him.  Since we started working at the same company, I have wanted to get to closer to him.  This was my opportunity.  I quickly put my violin away and followed him to the parking lot.  The café where we went was about a twenty minute drive.  It was a nice and cozy place.  I have never been there before.  We managed to get a seat beside the window.

After ordering two Lattes, he asked, “So, how old were you when you first started playing the violin?”

“I was five when I started learning how to play it.  My father loved classical music and he used to play it all of the time.  I would sit and listen it, especially the music featuring the violin.  I told him that I liked the violin and wanted to learn how to play it.  He took me seriously and got a friend to teach me.”

“Five.  Wow. That’s very young.”

I smiled.  “I’ve heard of children starting as young as three.”

“My sister started playing the piano when she was nine.”

“What about you?  Wasn’t there any musical instrument that you wanted to learn how to play?”

“I liked the saxophone but never got around to learning how to play it.”

“Most people like the saxophone because of its cool image.”

“And most women think it’s sexy.”

“That’s true.  When my sister met her husband he was playing the sax at a Jazz club.”

“So, if he hadn’t been playing the sax, she wouldn’t have been interested?”

“Well, it turned out that it was how he looked as he played was what really attracted her to him.”

He laughed, revealing even white teeth.  “Whatever works.”

“Yes.  Twenty years later and they are still happily married.”

“What about you?” he asked.

“I’m single.”

“That’s good to know.”

I was surprised to hear him say that.  Did he want to have a non-professional relationship with me?  Was I reading more into this than there was?  Did he just want to be friends?  All these and other questions swirled around my head.  I didn’t know what to say.  I just smiled.

He continued, leaning over, his hands clasped in front of him, his eyes meeting mine directly.  “I have wanted to ask you out for a long time now but wasn’t sure if you would want to date someone you worked with.”

It’s a good thing I wasn’t drinking my Latte at that moment or I would have choked on it.

“You look surprised,” he commented.

“I am,” I quickly admitted.

“Why?” he asked.

“Well, there are other women at the company, especially in our department whom I thought you would be more interested in.”

“Yes, there are but I’m not interested in any of them,” he reached over then and covered my hand.  The skin tingled and my stomach did a cartwheel.  “I’m interested in you.”

I felt warm all over.  “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll have dinner with me tomorrow night.”

I felt like a giddy schoolgirl.  “Yes.”

He smiled again and I felt my knees go weak.  We ordered sandwiches and sat there for another couple of hours, talking.  The following night he took me to an upscale restaurant in Soho where in the background Jazz music was playing.  I smiled when I heard the saxophone.  We had a very pleasant and enjoyable evening together.  I laughed a lot and felt totally relaxed with him.  After dinner, we went to Club Shelter where we had a blast.  I don’t recall ever having such a great time with anyone, not even my sister who used to be a real party animal.

It was after mid-night when he took me home.  We stood outside of my place, facing each other.  I didn’t want him to leave.  I didn’t want our time together to end.  “Would you like to come in?” I asked.  I waited, hoping that he would say yes.

Instead, he said, “If I do, I might not want to leave.”

Heart pounding wildly against my ribs, I stepped the foyer as I replied, “What if I don’t want you to leave?”

His response was to come in and close the door behind him.   The expression on his face thrilled me and I gasped when he pulled me roughly against him, his eyes smoldering as they met mine.  Then, we were kissing like two crazy people.  We barely made it to my room where we had an explosive session.  Afterwards, we fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms.

He left the following morning after a shower and breakfast.  We made plans to see each other that evening.  No one in our department knew about us until the day we announced our engagement.

She tugged at his heartstrings with her violin playing but by the cords of love he was drawn to her.

 

Emily/Snowfall #writephoto

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Photo by Sue Vincent

It was snowing.  It was the first snowfall on the season.  Emily raised her head and closed her eyes.  The flakes dropped like soft petals on to her face.  She smiled.  It was early in the morning.  In a couple of hours, classes would begin.  This was where she came every morning.  This was where they met.  She glanced at her watch.  He would be there in ten minutes.  Her heart skipped a beat at the thought.

While her family was still sleeping, she had slipped out of her room and come here.  The sneaking around, the clandestine meetings were so exciting.  She wondered what they would say if they only knew that she and Mr. Andrews, the headmaster were romantically involved with each other.  It began shortly after the new school year began.  She had transferred from another school.  Her mother wanted her to attend the same ivy league school she herself had been privileged to attend.

At first Emily was resentful and resistant because she was leaving all of her friends behind in London but when she met Mr. Andrews her outlook immediately changed.  He was a very agreeable, charming and attractive older man.  He looked to be in his late thirties, early forties.  He reminded her of the men she read about in Mills & Boon.  It wasn’t long before she started daydreaming about him.  And then, what a thrill it was to find out that her attraction for him was reciprocated.

She wondered what Mommy dearest would say if she only knew about Mr. Andrews.  A smile tugged at her mouth.  She would probably have one of her fits.  Mommy was such a drama queen, always overreacting to things and blowing things way out of proportion like the time when she found her and Edward in her room.  They hadn’t been up to any mischief.  Edward had kissed and she hadn’t resisted because she was curious to see what it was like to kiss and be kissed.  Of course, no amount of protestations and explanations could appease her enraged mother who threw Edward out of the house and warned him never to set foot there again.  And Emily was grounded for a month.  She was not allowed to go anywhere after school or on the weekends.  It was like being a prisoner on death row.  Her dislike and resentment for her mother increased.  They had never cared for each other.  Emily adored her father who indulged her while her mother favored her brother, William.

Her reverie was interrupted when she spotted Mr. Andrews heading towards her.  Heart racing, she waited anxiously for him to reach her.  When he did, they embraced and then they were kissing passionately.  When he drew back to gaze down into her flushed face, she said, “I’m late.”

He shook his head.  “No, you’re not.  School doesn’t start for another hour or so.  We have more than enough time.”

“No, I meant that my period is late.”

His expression changed at once.  “Do you think–?”

“I don’t know.  It’s possible that I could be or it could be nothing.”

“I hope and pray that you aren’t.”

“Would it be such a terrible thing if I were?”

“It wouldn’t be a good thing at all, Emily.”

“We could get married and–”

He released her then, his face darkening.  “No, we can’t,” he informed her tersely, startling her.

“Why not?” she asked, bewildered.

He shoved his fingers through his hair.  “Emily, I don’t know quite how to say this.  I can’t marry you because I’m engaged.”

The color drained from her face.  “Engaged?” she almost choked on the word.  “You’re engaged?”

“Yes.”

She fumbled for the tree and leaned heavily against it.  Her heart was aching now.  “To whom?”

“Julia Farnsworth.”

“When-when are you getting married?”

“In June.”

“When–when were you going to tell me?”

“I’ve wanted to tell you but couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“So, you were going to continue sleeping with me although you’re engaged to someone else.”

“Emily–” he tried to touch her but she pushed his hands away, the tears almost blinding her.

“I can’t believe that I was such a fool.  I thought you loved me.”

“I care very deeply for you.”

“I hate you!  And I hope that I’m not pregnant with your child.  I want nothing whatsoever to do with you any more.”  She stumbled away from the tree and ran as fast as she could across the snow covered ground.

Weeks later, her period arrived.  She requested to be transferred to another school which her father took care of, in spite of her mother’s vehement objections.  Emily’s father knew the reason behind the transfer.  He wanted to report Mr. Andrews but Emily asked him not to.  She never saw Mr. Andrews again.  She read about his nuptials online.  She didn’t hate him any more.  Besides, she had moved on. She was now dating a very nice boy whom she met at her new school.

This was written for the #writephoto Prompt – Imagination at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.

Ties in Seattle

Des had just gotten on his motorcycle, about to take off when he spotted Chantoya coming down the sidewalk.  He turned off the engine and slid off the seat.  Adjusting his shirt and smoothing his hair down, he walked over to her.  “Hi there,” he said when he was standing in front of her.

A big smile broke out on her face.  “Hi yourself,” she exclaimed before hugging him.  “It’s so good to see you.  It has been a while.  How have you been?”

“I’ve traveling a lot.  Just got back from South Korea.”

“South Korea?  What’s it like there?”

“It’s a great place.  I was there for a month and loved every minute of it.  The culture, the history, the food and the people made it worthwhile.”

“I’d love to hear more about your trip, Des.  How about we meet tomorrow afternoon at Squirrel Chops?”

“Sure.  What time?”

“Is five okay with you?”

“Yes, it is.”

“I’m sorry I can’t stay and chat more but I’m on my way to the theatre.”

“Okay.  Don’t let me keep you.”

She touched him on his arm.  “It was really great seeing you.”

“Ditto.  Have fun at the theatre.”

“Thanks.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Anneyeong, Chantoya.”  He smiled.  “That means goodbye in Korean.”

She laughed.  “I’m impressed.  ‘Bye, Des.”

black woman with afro hair

 

He watched her walk away and then returned to his bike.  He hopped on and after putting on his helmet, he pulled out of the parking space.  As he merged with the traffic, he wondered if Chantoya had a date.  She was all dressed up, looking pretty as usual.  He had thought about her all that time he was in Korea. 
He went to Seoul Yangnyeong Market with every intention of buying her a gift but at the last minute, he decided not to.  It probably wouldn’t have been a good idea since Chantoya was Shelley’s room-mate.   Shelley was his ex-girlfriend.  They had been dating for four years until they broke up last year.  She wanted to get married but he didn’t.  So, they parted ways.  In retrospect, he realized that she wasn’t the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.  Since the breakup, he hadn’t seen Chantoya until today.

During their exchange a few minutes ago, neither mentioned Shelley.  Perhaps, it wasn’t necessary.  He wondered if Chantoya would tell her that she had bumped into him.  Maybe that too wasn’t necessary.  Perhaps, Shelley had moved on.  At least, he hoped she had.

Chantoya met her date, Calvin outside of the Paramount Theatre.  They were going to see the musical Wicked.  Calvin looked handsome in his dark suit but when they hugged, she didn’t feel any spark.  It was more like hugging a friend.  As they walked through the doors and up to the orchestra section, she thought about Des and wondered what he was doing at that moment.  It was really great seeing him again.  She had wanted to get in touch with him after he broke up with Shelley but decided that it wasn’t a good idea.  How would it look her getting in touch with her room-mate’s ex?  It had been a tough time for Shelley who really checked for him but she tried to help her to see that it wouldn’t have been good continuing the relationship when it was clear that Des and she weren’t on the same page when it came to marriage.

Chantoya realized that he hadn’t asked about Shelley.  If he had, she would have told him that she had moved to New York.  I’ll tell him tomorrow when I see him, she decided.

“So, did you have a good time at the theatre?” Des asked her when they were sitting by the window having Lattes.

“I really enjoyed Wicked.”

“Did you go alone?”

“No.  I went with Calvin.”

“Is he your boyfriend?”

She shook her head.  “No.  I went out with him a couple of times but after last night, I decided to stop seeing him.”

“What made you decide that?”

“I wasn’t attracted to him.”

“Is there someone you’re attracted to?”

She looked at him.  Their eyes met and held.  “Yes.”

I hope it’s me.  “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“You.”

He reached over and put his hand over hers.  “The attraction is mutual, Chantoya,” he said quietly.

“I’ve been trying to fight it all of these years because of Shelley.  After you broke up with her, I wanted to call you but didn’t think it was wise or proper to do so.  Then, after she moved to New York, I thought about getting in touch with you again.”

“So, she finally moved to New York.  When we were together, she talked about us moving there.  I like New York but I’ve never wanted to live there.”

“She hasn’t been in touch with me since she moved there.  Maybe she has decided to cut all ties here.”

“Maybe.  I hope she finds happiness in New York.  My ties are right here–in Seattle.”

“Mine too.”  She looked down at their hands.

Sometimes relationships don’t work out because the two people involved are meant be with other people.

Sources:  Yelp;The Culture Trip;Trip Advisor; Seattle Theatre Group

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