Authors: Marilyn Lee
TornByLove (6 page)
She put a hand on my arm. “Please, Paul. I need you just as much as Mark does. And so will our baby. Please.”
What could I do? No matter what choice I made someone I loved was going to be hurt. While I was torn between Mark and Marlena, there was no hesitation where the baby was concerned. Boy or girl, the baby would need me—just as Mark had when Dan had dumped him on me.
“I need you, Paul, but if you can’t be there for me, I’ll walk out of your life and never look back. I want our baby to have a father, but I can do this alone if I have to.”
I believed her but damn if I planned to give her a chance to go it alone.
She lifted her chin and stepped away from me, a determined look in her eyes. “With or without you, the baby and I will survive and thrive. If you want to be a part of our lives, fine. If you don’t, it’ll be your loss. Not ours. We’ll be fine—with or without you.”
Damn if I didn’t fall a little more in love with her at that moment. I cupped her face in my hands and stared down into her eyes and lost the last piece of my heart I still retained. “There is no way in hell I’m going to allow you and our child to live happily ever after without me right at your side.”
“Why not?”
“Why do you think? It has something to do with a word that begins with a capital L. It sorts of sounds like…love.”
“Sort of sounds like? Sort of doesn’t work for me, Paul.”
“Ok, it sounds just like love.”
“It does? Are you sure because I can’t deal with your fucking me one moment and then asking me to go out with Mark.”
“I never expected or even wanted to be in this position again. But yes. I’m sure. I love you. I fell in love with you the first time I saw you in the supermarket.”
“What supermarket?”
I frowned at her. “So you didn’t even notice me?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I told her of my reaction the first time I saw her.
She smiled. “Oh, Paul. I didn’t notice you then, but I knew the moment we met I wanted to be your woman.”
Things would have been so much easier had we actually met in the supermarket. Then Mark wouldn’t have felt betrayed as he was bound to feel when he learned the level of my deception. “Good because I am so in love with you I’m about to burst.”
Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “I didn’t think this would turn out well for me.” She bit her lip. “What are we going to do about Mark?”
“He’s going to be crushed,” I admitted.
She sighed. “I don’t want him hurt, but I’ve always been upfront with him, Paul. We never kissed or held hands or even hugged. I thought I’d made it crystal clear to him that I all I had to offer him was friendship. Since we liked so many of the same things, I thought it would be all right for us to be friends.”
She was a little delusional if she thought any man worth the name wouldn’t have fallen at least into lust with her. But I could see the thought of hurting Mark distressed her.
“What are we going to do about him?” she asked again.
“I have to do what I should have done a long time ago—tell him the truth and hope he can forgive me.”
“Oh, Paul. How can I help? Can we tell him together?”
I could imagine how well that would go over with him. “Thanks, but this is something I have to do alone,” I said and drew her back to the carpet.
She cuddled close and we lay together, kissing and caressing each other gently. I spent the night. I was revved up knowing my baby was growing inside her that I couldn’t keep my hands off her. We made love well into the wee hours. Then I had the extreme pleasure of holding her close while she fell asleep in my arms.
In the morning, we had a shower, made love, and then had breakfast in bed. Then of course, I had to fuck her again. After a nap, I left her to go see Mark. I wasn’t looking forward to our meeting. Admitting my betrayal was going to be one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do.
When we faced each other at my house, I could almost feel a wave of hate from him. And I didn’t blame him a bit.
He shook his head. “What the fuck, Uncle Paul? You went behind my back and slept with my woman?”
“Look, Mark, I know you’re hurt and angry—and rightfully so. But let’s not revise history. She was not your woman. You told me yourself the two of you were just friends,” I said lamely.
He stared at me. “And you think that makes what you did all right?”
I sighed. “No, I know that doesn’t, but—”
“But nothing! I don’t know you. I don’t want to know you.”
He started to push past me and knocked away the hand I stretched out to stop him. “Get out of my way!”
“Mark, wait. Let me explain.”
He turned at the door to glare at me. “What the hell is there to explain? You were the one person I thought I could trust to never let me down. But I was wrong. You’re worse than Dan. Even he wouldn’t have stooped low enough to fuck my woman.”
Having him compare me to Dan pissed me off but I forced myself to contain my anger. Although I felt the comparison was unfair, I understood where he was coming from. “I know you feel betrayed—”
“How the hell could I not?”
“I’ve already admitted you have a right to feel that way, Mark, but we still need to talk.”
“I can’t trust you so I don’t want to talk to you or be around you. As far as I’m concerned, you’re as dead to me as Dan has been for the last six and a half years!”
He couldn’t have hurt me anymore if he’d stabbed me directly in the heart. I staggered back and sank down onto the floor, knowing that I’d lost him. Still I tried to make him understand. “She’s pregnant. What would you have me do?”
“Why the fuck did you sleep with her when you knew how I felt? What kind of sick shit is that, Paul?”
Paul? Oh, hell. He’d lost all respect for me and I couldn’t blame him. I wish I could say that I felt in time he would come around, but I didn’t believe that. Still, I hoped that one day he would be willing to forgive me.
I wanted to hold off the wedding in the hopes that Mark would come around but after two months of beating my head against the wall of his refusal to talk to me, I did what I had to do. Marlena and I were married in a small civil ceremony.
Our daughter Lalisa was born four months later. Since Mark had refused to speak to me or come to our ceremony, I was delighted when he showed up at the hospital just after she was born.
At first I was afraid he’d only come to heap abuse on us. Then I watched him standing at the nursery window staring in at Lalisa, I knew the thought had been unworthy of him.
He immediately became a doting older brother and rarely missed a week without coming to see her at least once. During those visits, he was super polite to Marlena, as he’d been since he learned of our relationship. She often told me after his visits that she almost wished he’d less polite and snap at her since so she wouldn’t feel so guilty.
Not that she had any real reason to feel that way but I found her in tears twice after his visits. When I asked why she said she hated that he was hurt and that she felt as if she’d destroyed my relationship with him. But that’s not a sentient either Mark or I shared. We both knew I was the one who had done that. I was the one Mark blamed for hurting him and rightly so since I was the one he trusted never to hurt him. So he continued to ignore me and rebuffed all my efforts to make amends. And damn that hurt.
For the first time in my life, I was seriously in love with a woman and I absolutely worshipped and adored Lalisa. But I felt as if a vital part of myself was missing. Strangely, I hadn’t realized how important having Mark’s love and good opinion was until I’d lost them both.
All I could do was hope that once he met a woman and really fell in love—as I was with Marlena, he’d finally understand why I found it so impossible to walk away from her. Once that happened, I hoped he’d forgive me and we could work on restoring our relationship.
I’d almost given up all hope of that ever actually happening, but it finally did. It took over five years but one day when Lalisa was five, Mark showed up at our door with this gorgeous brunette in tow. Noting the way he looked at her, I knew the moment I’d spent five miserable years longing for had arrived.
Mark was in love and ready to forgive me and let me back in his life. Two years later my eyes filled with tears when Mark placed his son, Paul in my arms and told him I was his grandfather. Damn. That’s right. He named his son Paul Crawford Morgan. I would have died a thousand deaths for that sweet moment. But thankfully I didn’t because finally, everything was right in my world. I was married to the woman I loved more each day, I had a beautiful, healthy daughter, and I had my son back. And a grandson. Life didn’t get any better than that.
The End.
© 2011 Marilyn Lee
My mother used to say that beauty is as beauty does. But, being male, I never bought into it. A woman was either good to look at or she wasn’t. If she wasn’t, her chances of getting a man to stay around long enough to see how beautiful she was on the inside were slim to none.
Like most men, I like beautiful women. I like dating them, being seen with them, and making love to them. But my mom had also instilled a sense of fairness and compassion in me. My dad used to say that such qualities could easily get a man in hot water.
I always thought I’d landed half-way between both my parents’ viewpoints. I knew beauty wasn’t everything or even the most important things in a serious relationship and I knew being too touchy-feeling could land my ass in romantic trouble with a woman I didn’t want to get serious with.
But I tended to think mom had it more right than dad by a hair or two. That’s how I landed in trouble with the last woman I ever expected to want to know personally. Alisha Hoover.
Mom would have been proud of me while dad would have thought I’d lost my mind. I probably had but by the time I realized it, I was in too deep with her with no way out that would allow me to keep my heart in one piece.
My date with Alisha Hoover was definitely going to be a one-shot deal with no repeats. Though she seemed nice enough, she wasn’t exactly the type of woman that made a man want to see as much of her as he could. Although she had beautiful dark skin and eyes, it would take a ton of make-up before she could even be considered “cute.” And after working with her for three years, I saw no evidence that she possessed any womanly guiles needed to attract and keep a man’s interest.
Still, after listening to the guys at the canning plant where we all worked making bets on the odds of her having a date for the annual company picnic, I felt a little sorry for her.
So she didn't have many assets beyond her skin and her eyes. That was no reason to be unkind. I didn't join them in making fun of her but I didn't say anything in her defense either. But when I looked up to see her standing in the doorway, I realized that she’d heard everything they’d said.
I saw a hurt look in her dark brown eyes before she turned and rushed from the floor. I suppose that’s when I decided to ask her to the company picnic. I was between girlfriends, having recently broken up with Debbie after three years of exclusive dating. Deb was pretty and witty, but outside of great sex, we had very little in common. And I was getting to the point where I wanted more than that in a relationship.
I signaled the foreman that I wanted to take my afternoon break and followed her. I found her in the lunchroom. I entered slowly, trying to give her time to compose herself.
She sat at a table in the back, her head bent and her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
Call me a sucker but I hate to see a woman cry. Especially one who’s crying because someone has been unnecessarily unkind to her.
I walked over to the vending machine. I pretended not to notice her wiping furiously at her face as I got a soda.
I took several gulps from the can before turning and acting as if I were seeing her for the first time. “Hi, Alisha.”
She sniffed, but didn't respond.
Why was she ignoring me? Damn, did she think I'd joined the rest of those knuckleheads making fun of her? To my surprise it bothered me that she might think I’d said unkind things about her behind her back. I tried again. “Hi, Alicia.”
She sucked in a breath and finally answered. “Hi, Craig.”
I sighed. Tears did nothing to improve her nondescript looks. I almost changed my mind, but I told myself one afternoon wouldn’t kill me. And it might make amends for what she'd obviously heard said about her. “Going to the picnic next weekend?”
She gave me a hurt look that strengthened my resolve. “No!”
She spat the word out as if the company picnic was the last place she wanted to be.
“Why not?”
And she gave me a cool look. “You know why.”
Of course, I knew why, but it wouldn’t do to admit it. “No, I don’t.”
She shrugged. “No one’s asked me, not that I want to go anywhere with any of those so-called men on the floor.”
Well, damn. She had a temper. Who knew? I didn't admit it then, but looking back, I realized her slight show of spirit intrigued me. That and the sudden realization that she had a nice rack. It wasn't overly large or perfectly shaped like the store-bought brand but it was nonetheless pretty nice. A man with the ability to look beyond surface beauty could spend many a happy hour with his lips wrapped around one of those babies.
Trying to appear casual, I gave her a quick assessment. She was a few inches above average height which is to say she was about 5’5’’ or 5’6”. She wasn't fat. But she also wasn't bone thin. Cuddling with her might not be too much of a trial. And not every woman could be supermodel pretty.
And though women had always seemed to find my wavy dark hair and blue eyes attractive I wasn't exactly George Clooney. But I kept myself in shape, I wasn’t ugly, and I've never had a problem getting the woman of my choice to go out with me.
“What a coincidence, Alisha. No one’s asked me, either.” I shrugged, trying to look casual. “Maybe we could go together?”
She turned those dark beautiful eyes of yours on me. “Me and you? You mean on a date?”
I was annoyed by her attitude and the tone she asked the question in. I didn't stutter and I didn't think she was hard of hearing. So why did she have to sit there looking like little red riding hood being asked out by the big, bad wolf? Didn’t she have any of the wiles that were so enticing in a woman?
“To the company picnic,” I said slowly, hoping she understood that was as far as the invitation went. “It’s more fun if you go with someone, don’t you think?”
She shook her head. “I’ve never gone.”
“No? It can be fun—if you have a partner. Why don’t we go together?”
She shook her head. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
I stared at her, wondering what the hell had possessed me to ask her in the first place. She didn't want to go out with me? Fine! I hadn't really wanted to go out with her either. I'd done my Boy Scout routine and had it thrown back in my face. No more Mr. Nice Guy for me.
“Suit yourself.” I finished the soda and looked gratefully at my watch. “I’d better get back to work.” And to sanity, which did not include asking Alisha out ever again. I stormed towards the door.
Before I reached it, she called out to me. “Craig?”
I stopped and turned slowly. I gave her a cold look. “What?” I knew I didn't sound very pleasant but at that point, I didn't care. I’d had my efforts to be kind thrown back in my face and it pissed me off.
“I'm sorry,” she said. “I shouldn't have taken out what they said on you.”
That must mean she knew I hadn't been involved. Strangely, knowing that dissolved some of my anger. But I was not mellow enough to extend the invitation again.
I nodded curtly and remained silent.
She stared at me as if waiting to see what I would say. But I'd said all I intended to say.
After several moments, she shrugged and gave me a surprisingly pretty smile. “I’d like to go. I mean if you were serious.”
Damn. Just my luck she decided to accept as I realized taking her anywhere was the last thing I wanted to do. I was already sorry I’d allowed my sympathy to get out of hand. I briefly considered telling her I’d changed my mind. That is until I looked into her eyes. They really were a very pretty brown—almost golden.
It was too late to back down. She wasn't pretty, or even cute, but she wasn't ugly either. No woman with skin that color and eyes that deep could be considered unattractive.
Since I couldn't back out, I might as well make the best of it. I pasted a smile on my face and turned back to face her. “We’ll go together then.”
She gave me a slow, sweet smile that revealed pretty, even white teeth.
I just might not find spending a few hours with her totally unpleasant. “We can make arrangements later. “ I told her. “Right now I have to get back to work.”
“Okay. Thanks, Craig.”
I nodded and went back onto the plant floor.
Beauty Is Alisha Hoover? is published by Marilyn Lee Unleashed
