This is Part I of a Serialized Creative Fiction Challenge, on Dreemport and SCHOLAR AND SCRIBE.
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Five years ago, I met the woman of my life, my heart and my dreams.
Five months ago, we both said those amazing words, “I love you, forever.”
Five weeks ago, I asked her to be mine and me, hers, for the rest of our lives.
Five days ago, I asked, and she agreed to an amazing weekend away, at an all inclusive resort.
Five hours ago, I was dancing around my apartment, floating on air as I packed.
Five minutes ago, I barely noticed as I slipped up her front steps, and rang the bell.
Five seconds ago, my life ended, with the harshest slap on my face. The words she screamed at me, the things she accused me of.
My heart ripped from my chest. I barely remember a thing, as the one true love of my life, accused me of some of the most vile things, with her flatmate. Force myself? On ANYONE? Never. Cheat on my love? NEVER. How could this be happening? And the one who was tearing me to shreds was the woman I had planned to grow old with. The woman I wanted to share my life, and my heart. Forever
Days ago, we were picking out names and playfully arguing over whether we would make enough babies for a golf foursome, or a football team. It didn’t matter to me, I just wanted to complete my life, with Her. Jenna, my love. My heart.
When the door slammed in my face, I could still hear the echoes of her yelling. My face felt red, and I felt for sure that the imprint of her hand on my cheek would last forever. Certainly the pain, and hollow black hole in my heart would. That joyous high? Our love?
Now I knew, what depths of despair I could sink to. To have her do this to me. To have her accuse my of such horror? My whole body ached; the pain of her words, still ripping. “Get out, and never speak to her again. You disgust me.”
“Get out, and never speak to her again. You disgust me.” Echoing.
I have no idea what I was doing or where I was. I cannot even tell you how long it has been since my world crumbled. Since I felt lost and so alone. I actually smiled as I realized, only a few short years ago, I was wondering though life, feeling nothing, and seeing no one. I felt nothing since my college girlfriend had left me, accusing me of sleeping with a professor, my mentor. My girlfriend, accusing me. Imagine the shock when I found her engaged only three weeks later, to her old boyfriend from Freshman and Sophomore years.
After her, I was numb. No more women. I found I couldn't trust them. No more long term relationships for me… no way. I was never going to let my heart get burned again. no matter that now, this was only the tird time I was devastated.
Then, five years ago, a tiny, curvy woman knocked me over, knocked me down, and knocked me into the atmosphere with those big brown eyes. A few weeks later, I knew who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. It took her the better part of a couple of years.
At first, Jenna and I would date, get close, and then make love. Then, for some reason, she would pull away, and I would get the cold shoulder for a couple of weeks… the pattern would repeat, over and over, until finally a few months ago, she said the words that every guy DREADS, “We need to talk.”
It turns out, she was afraid, and finally, realized, that I was the one for her, as well. For once in the history of human relationships, ‘We Need To Talk’ turned out to be a good thing! We talked for hours, each weekend. Our lives, mapped out. Our kids, and grandkids. Our careers. We talked big things, and small. Favorite color? Where do we live? Cats? Dogs? Forever and ever.
The blaring of the horn behind me, made me realize I was sitting at a red light, too long. No idea where I was, and where I was going. Another long loud tap of the horns behind me, got me moving again, forward. I recognized where I was and the reason why. I was headed to the tiny marina where my 27 foot Ranger Tug was moored. I must have driven for a couple of hours, as that’s how far this is from my own home and my fiancé’s. Was she still? Probably not now, nor ever again.
I just had no idea what or how this all happened. Maybe she really didn’t want me. Maybe this is all her way of breaking off our engagement. That must be it.
I can't believe I let myself believe someone loved me.
Five weeks ago, I was floating on air: my life complete. The man I would marry and grow old with had proposed.
Five hours ago, my world was shattered. My flat mate told me that he had come over last Sunday, while I was working, and that he had forced himself on her.
Fire minutes ago, I finally realized I was in my bed, crying. My head and heart ached. My roommate’s tapping on my bedroom door brought me out of it.
“Please Jenna, open up?” I rose, composed myself and walked to the door. I unlocked it, and turned the knob. She was standing there, holding a little black cocktail dress. I never owned something so small. So tight. She told me to put it on, her boyfriend (of the month, I added in my head) was taking us bother dinner and a club. “I can’t go out, I can’t. How can you? After everything that happened.”
“Oh, Jenna, it’s fine, it wasn’t that bad, I simply put my head elsewhere. He’s not my first that I let do that to me.”
I hated my fiancé… EX! I hated him. How could I not know him? How could he do this? I hated him, and now, she wanted us to all go out to dance and have fun? My life was a mess.
“Come ON, Jenna… I told Brad that we would take you out and show you a good time. Brad’s a great guy. Just go out with him. Us. You’ll see.”
I still didn’t get it, and spent the next few hours miserable. I know Brad tried. Most expensive restaurant in the city. Dancing at an exclusive club. He was a frat boy top, and spent his money to get what he wanted. Or, rather, Daddy’s money. Problem is, he only wanted to get into someone panties. And then move on. I worried, as he kept moving me closer all night, and I could see what he wanted. I even told my roommate that, too. She simply said, “Jenna, he likes you. You’re beautiful. You deserve to be spoiled, too. Let him spend some money and grind a little.”
I woke, sore, all over. My heart ached. I was devastated at what my fiancé had done. I was even more ashamed of what I had done. I felt used. Sore inside and out. Brad, snoring loudly, next to me. On the dry part of the bed. That went on for over a week before I came to my senses.
I couldn’t apologize fast enough, to my roommate. She laughed, told me to enjoy it, and let myself get over that cheap boyfriend of mine. My roommate and her boys, all were cut alike. Rich, Spoiled, and always hopping in and out of beds. Her mom and step dad, too. Even they were having affairs. And both the boys and girls all made fun of the fact that my fiancé had a job, working long hours and for entry level pay.
I hated myself for last night. Almost as much as I hated my EX-fiancé. I was shocked.
At work, later that night, I asked my boss if I could check the next week’s schedule, and make sure my EX and I were not working at the same time. She told me, not to worry, my EX hadn’t shown up for a single shift all week. I was shocked again, when I spoke with Brad. I told him that we were through. He laughed, too. Said, 'I wasn’t all that.' He laughed and sneered, “I knew I could get you… all it took was a thousand dollars for that roommate of yours.” Shocked.
I called my EX’s phone again, and again that day. It kept going straight to voice mail. I was about to leave another message when the phone told me his message box was full. I called my roommate, and she laughed too. She told me, I finally got to spend some time with a real man, who could spend on me and treat me right. I thought I was screaming when I slapped my EX. I thought I was swearing then, too. But the words from me to my roommate were even more vicious. I was shocked.
I called my Fiancé’s mom, and she told me she hadn’t heard from him in more that a week. Since the night of our fight. He called her, but his dad answered and called my fiancé all kinds of names for being a rapist. His mom said he meekly said, "I didn’t do it." hung up on her, and that was the last she had heard from son. I was shocked.
Five weeks ago, I tore my fiancé’s heart out, with a slap that I could still feel vibrating in my hand. I tore his heart out, calling him vile things. I ripped our future apart with each accusation. With each sentence I screamed at him. I gutted him, slowly and quickly. I saw his face… smiling, then, fall so far and so fast, it still hurt me.
It took these past five weeks, for me to realize the true story.
My roommate hated that I was settled with someone. Someone working class. She wanted for me, what she wanted for herself. Someone rich. Someone who was a lawyer, or doctor. Someone who would give her jewelry. And cars. I hated her. I was shocked. She told her lies for 30 Pieces of Silver, so her boyfriend could get into my panties. He didn’t want me. I said no, and he couldn't... wouldn't take no. He wanted my body. She didn’t want my fiancé, she wanted me to have her fantasy future. I was shocked.
It was five months ago, that night, that I last saw my fiancé. I still felt the sting on my hand. I still cry at night. Still shocked.
I spend time each week searching online. I call the police. No one has heard from him, since.
Five nights of debasing myself, thinking I was getting even, when all I was doing was selling my own self to a miserable person.
Five fingers and my palm on my fiancé’s face.
Five sentences to rip his soul to shreds. I hope he will some day forgive. I hope if not, he can at least forget, what I did to him.
Five Months, now, and I am no closer to whole.
Five Days, at first, spending it sleeping aboard.
Five Days, at first, tentatively taking the boat out... five miles. 50.
Five Nights, that first overnight trip.
Five more weeks and then, I flipped a coin: Heads: heading north.
at first, it was easy, those first five months. but heading north, meant the winter. So, I took one last look at the chart, for a decision.
Looking right there, staring back at me, 5 Mile Inlet.
I smiled, my first true smile in some time now. Winter is coming and time to haul in and spend the cold and dark, healing.
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