Strayed/Open #writephoto

thresholds

Photo by Sue Vincent

I walked into the house.  It was quiet.  It meant he hadn’t come as yet.  The corridor stretched endlessly before me.  I wondered what to do while I waited for him.  Ahead was the door leading to the large and cozy living-room.  That’s where he and I sat, curled up on the sofa, listening to Smooth Jazz while sipping wine.  I could wait in there.  I could go into the kitchen and prepare something for us to eat.  Or I could go upstairs and slip into something more comfortable.

I slipped off my sandals and walked through the first open door which led to the winding staircase.  I went upstairs to the master bedroom with the enormous canopy bed where he and I enjoy many trysts. I opened my overnight bag and took out my new black negligee.  I changed into it and put my clothes in the chair beside the door.  I ran my fingers through my hair as I crossed the carpet to look out of the window.

The view was splendid.  Thick foliage dotted the sprawling well maintained garden.  I loved this house.  It held so many wonderful memories for me albeit stolen ones.  This was our love nest.  I sat down on the window seat, drew my knees up and wrapped my arms around them.  Any moment now, I should hear the approach of his car.  As soon as I do, I will run down to greet him with a hug and a kiss.

I tried not to think about what I was doing.  I had tried not to do that for five years now.  Growing up in a Christian home, I was always taught that marriage was sacred and that adultery was a sin.  I used to look down on friends and family whom I knew were having extramarital affairs.  Not once did I imagine that one day I would do the very thing I condemned others for.  When I met Julian, I didn’t know that he was married.  He was handsome and charming.  I fell quickly and hard.

We started seeing each other.  I suspected that something was up when we always go together at my place and I was never invited to his.  And we went to certain restaurants and I didn’t have his home number.  I didn’t know where he worked or anything about his family.  Whenever I wanted to introduce him to mine, he would find some excuse why he couldn’t.  One night, I asked him pointblank if he was in a relationship.  He reluctantly admitted that he was married.  That floored me.  A girlfriend or even a fiancee I could deal with but a wife?

When he saw my reaction, he apologized for not being open and honest with me.  He said that he was afraid that if I knew that he was married, I wouldn’t get involved with him.  He knew I was a Christian and what I believed.  I went home that night and cried.  I was so torn up inside about the whole thing.  I was madly in love with him.  I loved being with him.  I was happiest when I was with him.  He was my world.

For weeks, I wrestled with my heart and my conscience.  My heart won and I continued seeing him.  I stopped going to church because I didn’t want to be a hypocrite.  I still read my Bible but I avoided the scriptures which spoke of adultery and fornication and such things.   I loved Julian and I wanted to be with him.

I know that Julian loves me and I make him happy.  I don’t think he loves his wife or that he’s happy with her.  I hope that one day, he will end his marriage.  Until then, I will continue to see him on the quiet like this.  I hear his car now.  Eagerly, I rise from the window seat and race out of the room.  Taking two steps at a time, I reach the bottom of the staircase just as he opens the door and steps into the foyer.  He smiles when he sees me and as soon as he closes the door, I rush over to him and throw my arms around him.  He laughs, picks me up, swings me around before he kisses me.

At this moment, I’m not thinking about his wife or how far I have strayed from my moral principles.  All that matters right now is that we are together.

The few hours I spend with you are worth the thousand hours I spend without you.purelovequotes.com

bw of woman looking out window

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

The Tragedy of Divorce

If you spend your time hoping someone will suffer the consequences for what they did to your heart, then you’re allowing them to hurt you a second time in your mind – Shannon L. Adler

mature-pensive-woman

I thought that when George and I tied the knot twenty years ago, it was for keeps.  Was I naive or blinded by love?  I didn’t want to end up like my grandparents and parents whose marriages ended in divorce.  As an only child and grandchild, I wanted to be the exception.  I wanted my marriage to last until either George or I died.  We were happy.  We loved each other.  We had so many wonderful plans for our future and our marriage.  Before having kids, we traveled.

Unfortunately, three kids later, I found out that George was having an affair and when I confronted him, he didn’t deny it.  He told me that he wanted a divorce.  The word was a like a punch in the stomach.  I never thought I would hear it.  I stood there stunned as my whole world crashed down around me.  This can’t be happening, I told myself but it was.  The pain I felt and the expression on his face told me that it this wasn’t a horrible nightmare.  It was really happening.

I pleaded with him not to end our marriage for my sake and the kids’.  I told him that we could go for counseling.  I was desperate.  I was willing to forgive him for his infidelity although it hurt.  But he was adamant.  He wanted a divorce.  Our marriage was over.  He wanted to leave me for her.  Then, he went upstairs and packed a suitcase.

I was served with divorce papers.  The finality hit me and I broke down.  My marriage was over.  My husband whom I thought I would grow old with had left me for a woman half his age.  I hated her.  She had wrecked my marriage and my home.  For years I was filled with bitterness and anger toward George and her.  I longed to make them suffer for what they had done to me.  I fought to prevent him from seeing our kids because I didn’t want them around her.  I didn’t realize how my behavior was affecting them until my daughter became withdrawn and my son was hanging out more at this best friend’s house.  Overcome with guilt and regret, I sobbed as I apologized to them and promised that I would get professional help.  I kept my promise and went for counseling.

One of my friends who also went through a divorce lent me a copy of the book, The Divorce Recovery Workbook which she said helped her.  I’m reading it.  And I’m taking one day at a time.  I’ve let go of my anger and all the toxic emotions that have held me prisoner, ruining my relationship with my kids.  They are doing fine now.  I let them sleep over at their father’s place when they want to.  I’m civil to him whenever we speak and I don’t hate his new wife any more.  I’ve learned, although it hasn’t been easy, to let go and to move on.  Life is too short and I want my kids to be happy.

“When people divorce, it’s always such a tragedy. At the same time, if people stay together it can be even worse” – Monica Bellucci

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

Source:  Elite Magazine

Love in the Open

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Armand and I are spending the afternoon in a beautiful French rural idyll. It’s nice not worrying about running into someone we know. We can hold hands in public, something we can’t do in London because none of our friends or family suspect that we’re involved. We’re forced to hide our love.

Armand and his wife, Etienne are separated.  I dated their son, Michel but I broke up with him after I met Armand.

“Happy?” Armand asks me now.

I nod. “Extremely.”

We kiss.

 

84 Words

Man with younger woman

This is for the Weekend Writing Prompt by Sammi Cox. For instructions, click Here.

Two Ships

Herieth-Paul2Ife saw him waiting for the elevator.  She tried not to make it obvious that she was watching him as she pushed the cart down the hallway.  She knew he was in no. 406, the Royal suite.  He was very handsome and a sharp dresser.  He must be rich, she thought.  This was a 5-star hotel he was staying in.

He was looking straight ahead and appeared to be in deep thought.  He didn’t notice her and when the elevator doors opened, he went inside.  After they closed behind him, she continued down the hallway to the different suites she still had to clean.  When she got to his, she looked around.  It was in impeccable order.  The bed looked like it hadn’t been slept in.  Out of all the suites on this floor, his was the one she didn’t mind cleaning.

As she got to work, she wondered how long he was staying in Kampala this time.  The last time it was for two weeks and the time before that, three.  He wasn’t the first Japanese businessman she had seen in the hotel or in Kampala.  More and more Japanese were flocking to the city to live, holiday or set up businesses.  Was he planning to live here or to set up a business?  What about his family?  Did he have a wife and children?  He looked young–in his mid to late thirties.

Well, it was none of her business.  A man like him would not be interested in her–a single mother working as a maid in a fancy hotel and living in a run-down neighborhood.  And they were from different cultures.  No, she would be better off finding and marrying a decent Ugandan man who wouldn’t mind being a step-father to her daughter.

Toshiro leaned against the tree, looking up at the hotel.  She was probably in his suite 62_ac32e335-d1d8-4e7c-bffa-e98b58858fd7now.  He knew that she was watching him as he waited for the elevator.  He could feel her eyes on him.  He appeared not to have noticed or acknowledged her but he had.   The temptation to look at her was very strong but he resisted.  She could be married for all he knew and he was in a relationship.

To be honest, he was staying at this hotel because of her.  The first time he saw her was last year when they passed each other in the hallway.   Their eyes met and held for a long time before she lowered hers.   Since then, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her or wanting to see her again.  Perhaps, one of these days, he would say hello to her.  There was no harm in that, was there?

Just then a taxi pulled up in front of the hotel’s entrance.  He glanced at his watch.  It was time to go to the meeting.  Moving away from the tree, he hurried over to the taxi and climbed.   As it drove off, he glanced up at the fourth floor.  Hopefully, he would see her again tomorrow.

This is a prequel to Ife’s Toilet Crisis.

Her Boss

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It was her first day back to work after a month long vacation in Jamaica.  Since she left there ten years ago, she hadn’t visited until now and was happy that she did.  She had forgotten the verdant mountainsides, crystalline rivers and white beaches surrounded by a turquoise sea.  She stayed with her cousin, Winston who owned and ran a beach resort.

The funny thing is all that time she was away, she couldn’t help thinking about Zain.  She missed him.  When she went shopping, she picked up a vintage wood carved hand-painted vase and a bottle of Rum for him.  She was looking forward to giving them to him.  He must have gotten the postcard she sent.

Winston was a party animal and he dragged her to different nightclubs, bars and house parties where she met all sorts of men.  They were interested in her and she found some of them very entertaining but she just wasn’t into any of them.  How could she be when she was in love with Zain?  Zain was her boss, for Pete’s sake.  Before she became his secretary, she was his father’s.  After Sadiq Patel decided to go into early retirement, he handed the company over to his youngest son along with her, his trusted secretary whom he hired fresh out of university, a decision he always prided himself was the one of the best ones he had ever made.  He used to say to her, “If I were at least twenty years younger, I would leave for my wife for you if you’d have me.”

Teona knew that he wasn’t serious.  She used to shake her head and say, “You and I both know you would never do that.”

He chuckled.  “You’re right, Teona.  I don’t have the courage to do it.”

She knew courage had nothing to do with it.  He was crazy about his wife.  Death was the only thing that could come between them.

On her last day working with him, they had hugged and she had cried.  She had loved working for him and was going to miss him terribly.  Mrs. Patel and he returned to New Delhi.  The last she heard, they had opened a restaurant.

Pakistani male modelThe first time she met Zain, he was in his father’s old office, sitting on top of a table.  To say that he was handsome was a gross understatement.  He was drop dead gorgeous and for several minutes all she could do was stand there, tongue-tied, staring at him.  A slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Hello, Teona,” he said.  Unlike his father, he had a British accent.  “My father has told me so much about you.  I’m looking forward to us working together.  Please have a seat and we can go over the company’s books to see where we are.”

That day was a complete blur for her as she tried to get him up to speed with everything and at the same time distracted by his good looks.  They soon came up with a system which worked perfectly for them.  And she soon found that, like his father, she loved working for him too but for completely different reasons.  It was too bad that he had a girlfriend…

The ringing of her phone jolted her back to the present.  It was Zain.   She quickly picked it up.

“Welcome back,” he said.

“Thank you.”  It’s good to be back.  She didn’t think she would ever go away for that long again.

“Come and see me after you’ve settled in.”

“All right.”  After she hung, she checked her emails, deleted many and responded to some.  She went to the washroom to make sure she looked fine.  She grabbed the bag with the stuff she had brought back for him and went into his office.

He was sitting at his desk but got up when she went in, closing the door behind her.  She walked over to him and extending the bag, she said, “I brought these back for you.”

He took the bag and looked inside.  “Thank you,” he said, smiling.  “I got your postcard.”  He set the bag down on the carpet beside his desk.  “Did you have a good time?”

She nodded.  “Yes, I did.”

“Has it changed much since you left?”

“Yes, it has.  I’d forgotten how laid back life there was compared to here.  It was nice not rushing around and being able to just walk out to the beach instead of having to drive there.”

He was leaning against the desk now, arms folded, watching her.  “Did you stay at a hotel or with family?”

“I stayed with my cousin, Winston.  He has a beach house.”

“What else did you do besides go to the beach?”

“Well, I went river rafting, zip-lining and visited Ochos Rios, Negril and Kingston where the Bob Marley Museum is, nightclubs, bars and parties.”

“Did you meet anyone?”

“Well, I met a lot of men, most of them were Winston’s friends.”

“Were you attracted to any of them?”

She shook her head.  “No, I wasn’t although most of them were really nice.”

“I missed you.”  The statement took her by surprise and the expression on his face made her heart skip a beat.

“Sure you did,” she replied, lowering her eyes.  “It’s the first time since we have been working together that you had to work with another secretary.  Did you get along well with Stacey?”  Stacey and she covered for each other.  The older woman was extremely competent.

“Yes, we got along famously but when I said that I missed you, I wasn’t speaking as your boss.”

She swallowed hard.  His eyes captivated her.  “What—what about Amrita?”

“We broke up.”

Her eyes widened in shock.  “You did?  How come?”

“She kept hounding me to get rid of you and gave me an ultimatum.  It was either you or her.”

“Why did she want you to get rid of me?”

“Do you remember the day when you and I were in here working on a project?”

Yes, she remembered.  How could she not?  They had spent most of the morning on it and finished it just after noon.  He ordered in take out and they sat on the sofa to have it.  Over delicious Thai food, they talked about all sorts of things, including her trip to Jamaica.  When they were finished eating and had put the containers in the garbage, she was about to take up her notes when he reached out and rubbed the right corner of her mouth with his thumb.  “You had a bit of sauce,” he explained.

“Thank you,” she murmured.  His hand was still holding her face.  They stared into each other’s eyes and their heavy breathing mingled.  Her gaze dropped to his mouth and watched, mesmerized as it drew closer…The loud knock on the door startled them and they sprang apart just as Amrita walked in.  She looked from one to the other, her expression dour before she inquired stonily, “Am I interrupting something?”

Flustered, Teona muttered, “No, I was just leaving.”  She turned away, grabbed her notes and almost ran out of the office.  For the rest of the day, she relived those last few moments in Zain’s office—when he rubbed the sauce from the side of her mouth and the kiss they almost shared.  The following morning she was on a plane headed for Jamaica.  And now she was back and here in his office.

“I remember,” she answered.  I thought about it a lot when I was away.

“Amrita knew that she had interrupted something.  She sensed that there was something between us and that’s why she wanted me to get rid of you.”

“So, instead of getting rid of me, you dumped her?”

“Yes.  Why should I get rid of a perfectly good secretary?” His eyes twinkled and his lips twitched.

“Is that the only reason why you didn’t get rid of me?”

His expression changed.  He looked very serious now and he reached for her hands.  “You know it isn’t,” he replied, pulling her closer to him.   His heated gaze met hers squarely.  “Just like you know what would have happened if she hadn’t interrupted us.”

By now she was having trouble breathing normally.  And her heart was pounding like crazy.  When she was standing inches from him, he released her hands and cup her face between his hands.  Then he was kissing her.  Now that her hands were free, she wrapped her arms around his waist as the kisses became more passionate.

Several minutes passed and then as things were getting really heated, he broke off the kiss, his breath harsh and unsteady.  “We’d better stop,” he gasped.

She nodded, trying to catch her breath.   “Yes, I’d better get back to my desk.”

Reluctantly he released her and ran his fingers through his hair.  His eyes were stormy as they met hers.  “Have dinner with me tonight.”

“Where?”

“My place at seven-thirty.”

“All right.  I’ll be there.”

He leaned over and kissed her long and hard on the mouth.  “It’s great to have you back.”

“It’s great to be back,” she murmured before she turned and walked unsteadily out of his office.

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

Sources: The Nature Conservancy; Road Affair; Etsy; Road Affair

Hotah/Bright #writephoto

bright

Photo by Sue Vincent

I follow him into the wood, my brave warrior.

My heart is racing as I stumble between the trees

which seem to clear a path to where he is.

I find him at our tree, wearing a breechcloth.

My breath is fast and unsteady but it’s not from

the exercise.  It’s the sight of his broad, shoulders

narrow hips and powerful legs.  His bronze skin

glistened in the bright sunlight and his thick black

mane fell in untamed waves down his wide, sinewy back.

 

When I saw him for the first time, I was awestruck.

I couldn’t take my eyes off him.  I remember thinking

that he was the most beautiful man I had ever seen.

I wanted to run my fingers through his hair and feel

his arms to see if they were as strong and tough as they

looked.  And when he looked at me with those dark

brown eyes framed by long black lashes, I was lost.

 

It wasn’t hard for me to fall in love with him  And,

at night I would meet him on top of the roof where

he liked to sleep.  He wanted the sky to be the roof

and the trees to be the walls instead of the room

where he and two other Sioux men resided.

We have been seeing each other under the quiet.

 

Last night, under the stars, we made love for the

first time.  It was the most earth shattering experience

I have ever had.  After being with him, I know that I

could never be with anyone else.  I will have to break

my engagement to Lewis.  I thought I loved him and

that’s why I accepted his proposal but that was before

I met Hotah.

 

He hears me now and turns.  I run to him.

I throw myself into his arms which he wraps tightly

about me.  I feel safe.

 

“Tonight,” he said softly.  “Tonight, we leave.”

 

“Yes, Hotah,” I murmur before our lips meet.

Tonight, we were leaving the college to begin a new

life together.  I’m going to be Hotah’s wife and be a

teacher for his people.

 

This story was also inspired by Unbowed, a 1999 love story of a Lakota Sioux Indian man and his African American teacher.

 

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

Sources:  Lakota NamesOrrin’s Website

The Wedding Anniversary

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He was standing at the window of the hotel suite overlooking the seashore when she joined him. “You came,” he said.

“I couldn’t stay away.”

He pulled her against him.  “I know.”

“Your wife called the office.”

“What did she want?”

“She mentioned your parents’ wedding anniversary.”

“Oh, yes.  The celebration’s tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes, but I won’t be there.”

 

 

59 Words

woman staring up at man

This is for the Weekend Writing Prompt by Sammi Cox. For instructions, click HERE.