Beast of Venery (26 page)

              “So, what happened?”

              “You actually want to hear more?” She swallowed hard and looked straight into his eyes.

              “Yes.”

              His answer was simple. One word.
Yes
. His lips met the rim of the wine glass in his hand once more and he let his eyes lock with hers during his sip.

              “Uhm... nothing really. I... it's all very embarrassing.” She mumbled nervously, looking down in the red liquid filling up her glass.

              “I think we've passed embarrassing already, so you should probably just let me in on it all. Whatever could possibly be left.”

              “What if I tell you more, about me, then you decide you don't want to be with me anymore and let all these little secrets out? I would be devastated.”

              Suddenly surprised, he let his wine glass touch the table before he untangled his fingers from hers and put his warm hand flat on top of hers, stopping her nervous movements.

              “When did I ever say I was going to leave?”

              “Oh, I guess you didn't, but letting you in on my life is like a death sentence for me. I'm afraid it will make you run for the door and with that ruin me as well.”

              “I'm not running anywhere. We've been together for how long now, six months? To me that's a pretty serious relationship, not just simple dating. After a few weeks I already thought of us a
couple
and in my mind I guess I started building our future together already. I want to, need to, hear this about you. So, please don't stop. I'm not going to leave. Okay?”

              When she didn't respond straight away he looked at her again.

              “Do you not believe me?”

              “After Brian I have a hard time trusting anyone.” She mumbled low, peeking down at the table.

              “But I'm not him. I thought I proved that to you over these six months. You should know me well enough by now, don't you agree?”

              She nodded but kept looking down at the table.

              “I'm not going to leave you, okay? I love you, you know that. When
I
say it,
I
mean it.”

              “Okay, thanks. I do trust you, it just messes up my mind sometimes. Trying to figure out who I can trust and not. Who's lying and who's not. You're right, I'm sorry.”

              “No, no, you don't have to say you're sorry. Just know that you can trust me and that I do love you. Very much in fact. Now, please, tell me what happened. That story can't just end with you in the car that night.”

              She smiled shyly and took another sip of the delicious wine, noticing his fingers once again playing with hers next to their plates on the table.

              “Well,” She said quietly. “The next morning I woke up inside the car, and it must have been really early because it was barely sunrise. The outside of the car seemed still and quiet so I slowly opened the car door and stepped out on the gravel in my bare feet wearing my pajamas. I tried to really listen to see if I could hear anything from inside the house, but it was completely quiet. I remember standing there in the rise of the early morning for a few minutes appreciating the tranquility around me before I decided to take the plunge and open the front door. Not knowing what would meet me once I stepped inside.

              He kept the door unlocked, which was surprising, and I was almost expecting to find him where I had left him the night before, on the floor in the hallway, but when I peeked in he wasn't there. Closing the door quietly behind me I listen once again for noise, but the inside was as quiet as the outside of the house, so I figured he must still be sleeping off his drunken rage from the night before.

              I remember feeling so worn out and exhausted from all the events that had happened, and sleeping in a car didn't make for the most comfortable sleep I must say, so I decided to head back up into bed and refused to let him think he won this fight by kicking me out of there. So stupid, I know, but somehow I had a little smudge of pride and anger left inside, something he hadn't taken away quite yet.

              And there he was. On his side of the bed all tangled up in our bed sheets, naked from the waist down. I don't even want to think about what he might have done to himself while I slept solo in the car all night. But knowing him, he probably jerked off, then fell asleep.

              Softly, on my tiptoes, I snuck around the bed to my side and slowly slid in under one of the sheets left over. I laid down on my side, facing the wall away from him. I was so close to the edge of the mattress that if I just rolled over on my stomach I would have ended up over the edge and on the floor. I just couldn't bear being any closer to him, still I needed some God damn sleep.

              I'm not sure how long I napped until his voice startled me awake by yelling '
shit
'. Rushing like he was on fire from his entanglement to stand up. I dared myself to tilt my head back and face him, but he just stood there with his hands on each side of his waist and stared down at the sheets where he had just slept, then over to me.”

She stopped for a second, letting a body shaking shiver run through her back before she continued.

              “He simply stated – not even asked, with a question mark at the end – '
you're doing laundry today.
' With that statement he left the bedroom half naked and went into his computer room and slammed the door shut behind him.

              Still dizzy from the lack of sleep I remember trying to puzzle it all together. Trying to comprehend what he just said. Sure, I could do laundry, but why would he say that when I was the one who always did laundry anyway? But rolling over, getting some more space to stretch out, I understood the meaning behind his words. In his drunkenness he had both shat in bed which stained the sheets, as well as made other discolored spots, which was probably his cum. I got out of the bed so fast I almost pulled down the lamp standing on the nightstand.

              I guess Brian heard my tumbling steps next to the bed and simply yelled from his office, '
do the laundry!
' I was too disgusted having those sheets touching the mattress of the bed any longer that I ripped up the sheets from the bed, curled them up into a ball and immediately went downstairs to the laundry room and started a wash. I felt so dirty and I was desperate for a shower but since he didn't finish our bathroom, for some unknown reason, it was impossible to take a shower without him butting in on it. Having his office next door didn't help either.

              He always yelled at me for getting the grout between the plates of tiles wet since it wasn't all sealed up yet, or destroying the wood trim in the ceiling with steam from the shower. So, in the midst of all those things in the morning I didn't have a chance to shower after taking care of his freaking, disgusting, dirty laundry. Instead I remember scrubbing every inch of myself in the downstairs bathroom with soap and a sponge until my skin turned glowing red and itchy.

              Not a single word was every mentioned about what happened that night, nor did he ever apologize. Each day went by as if nothing had ever happened, and that was my everyday life with him. He didn't celebrate my birthdays, and when the house needed remodeling he put all the money into building himself a sauna upstairs for his recreational use, instead of updating the kitchen and the plumbing, which by the way, froze every winter.

              During the winter months you would have seen me shoveling snow outside in the mornings to bring inside in buckets to melt on the stove, just to be able to wash my hands or pour down the toilet to have a chance to flush. Whenever the fire went out in the heater
I
was the one walking through snow carrying wood into the house, keeping up the temperature which he decided should not be any lower than seventy, even though the outside was a chilly thirty-two and the wind could be felt rushing through the old windows he always said didn't need repair. I should do the work at home he said, since I wasn't a full-time employee anywhere.

              God, what a shit-hole of a place. Excuse my language. In the summers he demanded sex outside in the backyard hoping the train might run by on the nearby tracks letting passengers see us. Freaking exhibitionist. And sitting here now telling you all of this, I can't remember if he ever said 'I love you' to me? I tried to say it a few times to please him, but it never came our right. It always felt like I had to push those words really hard getting them off my tongue. He probably knew that, but had me say it anyway, just to torture me. Actually, I can't remember anyone, before you, telling me that I'm beautiful.” She pondered the last sentence for a second. She wasn't aware of it until telling Andy. That no one had ever told her she was beautiful.

              Andy abruptly stood up from his chair, untangled his fingers from hers, and emptied their dishes into the sink in the kitchen. When he returned to the table he stood next to her, by the side of the table, and held out his hand in the air. Almost the same height as her face.

              “What, I don't have anything to spit out?”

              “Huh?!” He laughed. “No, I would rather you didn't spit in my hand, just grab it please and stand up.”

              She put her hand in his and let him pull her tightly into his arms. His strong embrace surrounded her and her knees felt soft as mush when she stared into his eyes. She felt safe here. Her hands moved from his chest, up to round his strong shoulders, letting her fingertips nudge the few strands of hair that had loosened up and fallen forward from his little pigtail in the back.

              “I'm sorry he was such an asshole to you. I don't know what else to say than letting you know how much I wish I could hurt him. Hurt him bad, really bad, if I had him facing me. I might seem calm and laid back, but if anyone would ever mess with you I'd break out a level of crazy that would make anyone's worst nightmare their happiest place on earth.”

              His honest words made a wide smile creep up her face. What a wonderful man.

              “Ah, don't worry. I'm good.”

              “Babe, you just told me some quite disturbing details about your past. It's okay to
not
feel fine. You can feel like shit if you want. After something like that, no one would blame you.”

              “Every day since I left him my life has been brighter and brighter, and I'm actually at a point when I'm fine about it. I left that part behind me and I would appreciate if I didn't have to go back and relive it again, so with telling you all of this tonight, I hope we don't have to dig into it much more. I'd rather not talk about it any longer. Okay?"

              “Okay. Thanks for sharing though. I never would have imagined those things in my wildest fantasy. If you hadn't told me I probably would have pondered in bed every night wondering what it was that you refused to tell me. So, thank you.”

              “You're welcome, I guess.”

              He pulled her closer and let his nose touch the side of hers. She could feel his warm breath escape his lips and mix with hers. Then he kissed her. So soft, so gentle. She could have melted right there on the spot.

              “Let me show you what it feels to be loved. Let me cherish you. Let me take care of you.”

              “You already do. All the time and every time we see each other.”

              “But I mean...”

He hesitated for a second, and stared over her shoulder quickly, as if trying to find the right words.

              “What? What do you mean?” Jitters starting to creep up her back once again.

              “Let me love you, always. I want to be the one you can turn to when you need to talk, and I want to be the one to kiss you when you're sad. The only one to ever kiss your lips. Forever.”

              “What are you saying?”

              “I'm saying that...”

He moved his hands away from her waist, leaving an emptiness behind she didn't care for the slightest, but instead he cupped her face in his hands.

              “Danielle Angela Fremont, will you marry me?”

She stood frozen on the spot, her face in his hands, just staring into those deep blue eyes searching hers for an answer.

              “Are you sure?” She mumbled. “I mean, you just heard what a mess I used to be involved in. You don't want any part of that.”

              “I want every part of you in my life. I want to show you what love is and I don't want to stop showing you until we're both old, sitting together holding hands on the porch of our ranch house, watching our grandchildren run around playing in the grass. Would you like to do that with me?”

              She was stunned into complete silence. Her mouth still hung open in surprise. Without thinking he smiled and bent down and kissed that plump lower lip of hers. She gasped and closed her eyes to absorb the sudden pleasure his touch created.

              “What's it going to be, Danielle, would you like to share that dream with me?”