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Damian's Story

Short story By: Lucena
Young adult



He's a writer with a dark secret . . . and now everyone will be able to read his own story.


Submitted:Jan 5, 2013    Reads: 75    Comments: 6    Likes: 2   


Scene: He sat on his bed his legs stretched out in front of him, his laptop resting on his lap as he types away . . .

Damian- "She opens the door, enters her apartment, her heels clicking against the wooden floor, her long dark straight hair sways around her shoulders as she walks toward her bedroom." He says as he types.

Scene: He looks out the window away from his screen and runs a hand through his hair. The room is well lit the blinds open letting the sunshine in. It's nine-twenty-six in morning his coffee steaming up on his night stand. Damian faces his screen again and types.

Damian- "She walks in her room, closes the door behind her as she steps off her cherry red high heel shoes."

Scene: You see another room, wall painted gray, the bed cover in a deep dark steel gray color. The woman with the dark straight hair steps off her cherry red high heels and zips down her cherry red dress, she pulls it down to her waist, down to her thighs, then to her legs, and lets it drop as the dress pools around her feet. She steps off it and walks toward the door to her bathroom. She looks at the mirror above her sink, looking at her features. Round almond eyes, dark brown eyes, small nose, and round pouty lips covered in a deep shade of red lipstick. She touches the mirror with her finger tips her left hand touching her face as if comparing the feel of her reflection to her real self.

"I am beautiful," she says to herself. "I am beautiful and he would never leave me."

Her left thumb roughly runs through her lower lip smudging her lipstick to her cheek.

"He would never leave me," she repeated to herself. "I am who he wants."

Scene: The sky darkens as night falls and the woman lies on her bed over the covers, only dress in her red lace bra and red lace panty. She stretches her arms to each side her legs stretched out, crossed. She grabs the covers under lifting her chest as her back bows, biting her lower lip, her eyes shut. The door opens and a man walks in. His dark brown hair combed back showing the perfect feature he know she cherishes, his dark blue eyes staring straight at the woman on the bed; his posture straight, his dark grey suit framing his body in a way to make him look in control, dominant. He closes the door behind him then walks over to the bed his gaze never leaving the woman laying there lost in her own lust of dreams and imagination.

"Do you still need me here?" he asks in a low deep voice.

Her eyes opens and she lifts her head to the end of the bed to find the man standing there, his hands shoved in his front pants pocket.

"I've been waiting for you," she whispers.

She pulls herself up, her legs parting as she slides herself to the end of the bed letting her legs rest on each side of the man's legs. She reaches up to his arms then to his neck tie, she loosens it and pulls it completely off. The man takes his hands out of his pocket and rests them both on her shoulder, feeling her soft skin.

"Have you been waiting for me?" He asks her as he peels both of her bra straps off her shoulders.

She looks up at him her breath running short, "Yes, I've been waiting for a long time."

"That's good to know." He says to her as he drops his hands to his side letting her undress him.

She untucked his shirt from his pants and unbuttons it from top to bottom. She slowly runs her hands on his chest as she stands in front of him, her hands going up to his shoulders pushing the sleeve of his shirt off each arm. His jacket and white shirt falls down to the floor his skin accented with the dimmed light of the lamp next to the top of the bed. She runs her hands down to his chest, down to his stomach, his muscles rippled under her hands. She reaches the waist band of his pants and she unbuttons them, zips his pants down. His breath coming out shorter, rougher, her hands grips the waist band of his pants and boxer-briefs pushing them down to his hips, to his thighs, then drops to his ankles. He steps off his pants and reaches around her unclasping her bra and letting it slide off her arms.

He slowly guides her to the middle of the bed as he crawls on top of her, his knees separating her legs from each other as he slides his legs between hers, making her thighs open for him. His hands resting on each side of her shoulders, he leans down to her. She closes her eyes feeling his breath closer to her ears, feeling his warmth throughout her whole body. She holds on to the side of his body and lifts her chest to his, trying to get closer to him. She moans as he lightly kisses her on her shoulder, on her neck then the bottom of her ears.

He whispers in her ear, "Did you ever think I'd come back to you?"

She nods.

"Did you ever think I'd touch you again?" he asks her.

She nods again.

"Did you know where I was?"

She shakes her head slowly side to side.

He leans in closer, his lips almost touching her ear. "I was with her."

Her eyes opens, looking straight up to the ceiling.

His breath blew out, hitting the side of her face. "I was touching, kissing, fucking her," he whispers in her ear.

She gasps and her heart beat thudded against her chest, a ringing sound in her ears deafening her.

Scene: Damian lifts his left hand off the keyboard of his laptop and reaches to his bed stand for his coffee. He takes a sip and sets it back down. He looks over next him, his fiancé lying quietly next to him. He smiles, he moved carefully, lifting his laptop and placing a pillow on his lap before setting the laptop down in front of him again. He leans back on the bed frame and exhales a deep breath. He reaches down to the woman next to him, lifting a lock of her hair, she has the most gorgeous dark brown hair, shiny and soft to his touch.

"I love you," Damian whispers to her.

He looks back to his screen and sees the time, it's twelve-twenty-six in the afternoon. He closes his eyes and setting both of his hands on the keyboard, he types.

Scene: The gray room is dark, the sun rise trying to creep in through the heavy lid curtain. The bed unmade, her clothes scattered around, his tie lying by itself on the end of the bed. Our attention goes to the corner behind the door where she sits on the floor naked. Her legs folded to her chest, her arms wrapped around her knees, her head resting on her forearms. Her shoulder shivering up and down, she slowly lifts her head tears streaming down her cheeks, her lips curls into a smile. She looks around the room, seeing emptiness of another. She runs her right hand through her hair, pushing strands away from her face. Her mascara washed and mixed in her tears as it marks her cheeks. Her lips swollen and red, her lipstick smudged around her lips.

She lightly touched her lips with her left hand feeling it swollen with her fingers, she smiles behind her hand and laughter builds deep inside her.

Scene: Her heels clicks on the marbled floor, chandelier hanging down the ceiling, gold and marble surrounds her. She walks in the lobby of the hotel, her long dark straight hair swaying around her; she flicks them back from her shoulder as she looks at young men looking at her. Her lips covered in deep shade of red, a smile playing in the corner of her lips. Her black tight dress hugs her, showing off every curve of her body. She holds a black shiny rectangular leather clutch in her right hand. Her cherry red high heels clicking away as she walks through the lobby to a hallway of elevator doors. She stops in front of one elevator door and presses the 'up' button.

A man behind her fakes a cough stealing her attention from the elevator door. She turns her head to him and offers him a smile. He smiles back and one of his eyebrow lifts as he assesses her from her feet to her face.

"You're a beautiful woman, you know that?" he says to her his grin growing bigger.

She nods, "Yes, I do know," she says as she turns her head to face the elevator door sliding open in front of her.

Scene: The carpeted floor silencing her footstep through the hallway created a light thud sound under her. She walks confidently, her back straight, her shoulders pushed back as she looks on each room number searching for number 326. She passes 323 on her right side, then 324 on her left, then 325 on her right. She looks to the next door on her left and exhales. She opens her clutch pulling out a card key. She slides it in and the small light on the door knob turns green the door unlocking. She pulls out the card key placed it in her clutch purse again, then turns the door knob pushing the door open. She walks in the entrance a door on her right was well lit, it was a door to the bathroom. She walks in further, seeing a single queen size bed in the middle of the room, unmade. Her gaze goes to the coffee table next to the window, a woman sat quietly on one of two chairs, her eyes wide, light blue, staring at her. Her blond wavy hair wet framing her heart shaped face. Her lips pink full lips slightly parted, she was wrapped in a white cotton robe. A cup of coffee between her hands on the table, steaming.

She stops a few feet away to the table staring back at the stunned woman. She straightens her posture and held her clutch with both her hands in front of her.

"So you're her." She accused the blond woman.

The blond shook herself mentally, closing her mouth, blinking and sitting up straight in her chair, she cleared her throat and looks up at the dark haired woman in front of her.

"You're his wife." She said to the dark haired woman her voice going weak.

She walks over closer to the table sliding the chair from under the table that's across from the blond. She sits straight her hands resting on her lap. Her eyes roamed around the blond hands around her coffee cup, to her arms, her body covered in a white cotton robe, her blond wet wavy hair then to her face.

"Tell me your name." she says to the blond.

The other woman swallowed before answering, "My name is Amanda."

Silence filled between them before she asks her another question.

"Amanda, how did you meet my husband?" she asks in a straight forward tone.

Amanda's eyes furrowed to her, "How did you get a room key?"

She looks out the window then back at the blond, "I got it from his pants pocket, now answer my question."

Amanda slightly moved her body on her chair and looked back at the woman in front of her, "We met at work, I'm in accounting of the same company he works for."

"How long have you two been seeing each other?" she asks Amanda, her palms sweating under the table.

"A month, we met the twenty-sixth of last month, exactly the same date as today," she answered her eyes on her coffee.

"Did you know he is married?" she asks.

Amanda nodded, "Yes, I've seen you in his pictures on his desk at work, and a picture of you in his wallet."

She didn't say anything next, instead she looked out the window and for a moment she caught her reflection her lips slightly turned into a smile. Then the woman from across her started to speak again, breaking her attention from the window.

"He never denied it, you know?" Amanda says to her. "He never took off his ring. He never lied to me, except to you."

She turns to the blond facing her again.

"He told you two weeks ago that he broke it off with me, but he didn't." Amanda takes a sip of her coffee, now she's the one looking out the window. "He came to me two days before he lied to you, saying you had found out about us by seeing our text messages to each other on his phone. He said he doesn't want to leave me, so he told me he'd lie to you."

"And so he did," she said in a whisper. She looked at Amanda facing the window.

Amanda continued, "I didn't want to break it off with him either, I like your husband. He makes me feel happy, cared for, and . . . beautiful."

Her eyes grew wide as Amanda turns back to her, her lips in a smile. A burning rage fired up inside her and she wanted to reach across the table and rip those words from Amanda's lips.

Amanda kept on her smile, "You're hurt by what I said, I know, but I don't care. He still wants me and he'll always want me, you want to know why?"

She stared at those light blue eyes piercing through her.

"Because I would never lose a part of him in me, I would never get his hopes up and lose it so close to when he could almost touch his dreams." She offered the dark haired woman a smile again, this time confidence in her eyes. "You know what I'm talking about, and it hurts you to know I can offer him something you can never could . . . not anymore, at least."

Tears build on the bottom of her eyes as those blue eyes stared back at her. She gathered herself and pushed her shoulder back. Hoping her voice wouldn't give out as she asks, "If you're so confident about being able to give him something I can't, then why did he never leave me completely to be with you?"

Amanda was taken aback and her smile faded, her eyes dropped to her hands, "Because, he doesn't love me. He loves you."

"And how can you be so sure?" she asks seeing Amanda's weakness once more.

Amanda swallowed and looked up at her, "Because he told me." She took a sip of her coffee and continued, "A week ago, I told him I love him. He laughed and turned his back on me, he told me I can't be in love with him because he could never return those feelings to me." She shrugged, "I guess all he really wants from me is a good fuck."

She heard enough and finally stood up making Amanda's eyes go wide again. She started to walk away from the table to head to the door but a voice stopped her. In the door way a man stood holding the door open his features was hidden in the shadow of the hallway. But she knew who it was, on how he stood, his height, his voice.

"What are you doing here?" he asked his voice deep with anger.

She walked towards him and when she reached him, she looked up to his face with a smirk on hers.

"I wanted to see who this woman you've been fucking," she said in a low voice just for him to hear. "When I leave you, I want to know you'd be satisfied with her beauty."

She started to walk out the door when he grabs her arm to face him again.

"I don't want you to leave." He said to her his voice demanding.

She gave him a fake laugh, "What do I have left that you want? My body? You have it. My love? It's yours. My money? You can have it all."

"I want you," he said his grip on her arm tightening.

She nodded to the blond woman inside the room. "But I'm not enough, or else she wouldn't be here."

She pushed him off and pulled her arm from his grip and walked out of the room, leaving him standing in the door way watching her walk away.

Scene: Damian pushed his laptop off his lap and set it down to the bed. He slides off the bed and stood up stretching his legs and his arms in front of him. He looked down at his fiancé, still lying there quietly. He grabbed his coffee mug off the bed side table and walked out of the room to the hallway then out to the kitchen and living room. He set his mug in the sink and opens the fridge; he frowned at the emptiness of it and opened the top cupboard grabbing a box of crackers and a jar of peanut butter. He opened both, grabbed a piece of cracker and dipped it in the peanut butter. After a couple of bites he closed them both and placed them back at the cupboard. He got himself a glass of water and headed back to his room.

As soon as he walked in the room his phone rings. He placed his glass where his coffee mug was once and picked up his phone pressing the accept button.

"Hello?" he said to the receiver.

"Damian, is Samantha okay?" the woman from the other line asked.

He looks at his fiancé on the bed and smiled, "Of course, she's right here."

"Oh, uh, well, how come she hasn't been at work for two days now? She never called in sick," the woman informed him.

"She must have forgotten, she's not feeling all that well," Damian said as he walks to the bed and sat on the edge his back turned to his fiancé.

"Oh, that's too bad. I hope, we all hope, she feels better soon then."

"Mmhm, I'll let her know."

"Alright then Damian, take care of her now. Bye." The woman hangs up and Damian set his phone down next to his glass of water. Turning to his fiancé he leans down and places a kiss on her forehead.

"You hear that love?" he said whispering to her, "Everyone at work wishes you to get well soon, everyone."

He sits in his side of the bed and pulls his laptop up on his lap. He clicked on his e-mail and checked, there's one from his publisher. He rolled his eyes and went on to check the other mails. He looked at the clock, it's two-twenty-six. He smiled to himself and clicked on the document he's been working on, letting his mind runaway with him again as his hands types his thoughts.

Scene: The room was well lit the lamps in full blast; she sat on the edge of her bed her hands on both sides gripping the edges. She stared at the floor her breathing even, her long dark hair covering her face like a curtain. The door opens, the darkness of the hallway creeping in, he hid in the dark of it for a few seconds before he stepped in the room. He closed the door behind him but only took a couple more steps, nothing more. His hands halfway into his pockets his hair pushed back, just the way she likes it.

She looks up to the wall in front of her, she turns to the right of her where he stood like a statue few feet away from her. His gaze focused on her, the rest of his face, expressionless.

"Are you hurting?" he asks in a blank emotionless tone.

She blinks and whispers, "Yes."

"Good." He said to her, he took a step forward.

"Why?" she asks in a small low voice.

He nods to her then took another step forward, "Because that's exactly how I felt the last time you lied to me."

"That was different," she said shaking her head.

"Maybe so, because what you did was worse," he said taking another step.

Her eyes filled with tears and she pushed them back not wanting to seem weak in front of him, he looked so strong and big in front of her, now as he stood even closer.

Her voice cracked as she admitted, "I wasn't ready." She swallowed and closed her eyes pleading herself to hold on to the tears fighting its way out. "We had just gotten married, and I had just gotten the job I always wanted. We were just starting."

"Yes, we were, and you took it away from me, from us, before we even had the chance to start." He said to her his voice strong.

She shook her head, "It was my choice, my life, my body. I didn't want anything to ruin what we had."

Now he shook his head at her, "You are selfish. It might have been your body, but it was our choice, our life and in the end your choice was what ruined us, and the lie you had me believed."

"I didn't mean to hurt you," she said her voice breaking she swallowed and a tear rolled down to her cheek which she quickly wiped away with the back of her hand. "I did it for us."

He shook his head and dropped it looking down at his own feet. "No." he said, he reached up to run both hands through his hair and looked up at her. "You did it for yourself. . . "He exhaled and closed his eyes. "I never had the thought of not wanting it. I was happy. And you took that away from me, forever."

Tears found a way out of her and she couldn't stop them. "If I didn't do it, where would you think you'd be now, you wouldn't have gotten that promotion because you wouldn't have the time to focus on your work. . ." she swallowed a lump of nothing down her throat, "I wouldn't have gotten the job at that time because I wouldn't be able to travel. What would I be doing now? Where would we be now if I didn't make the decisions I did? Look where we are right now, we're young, beautiful, and rich."

"And we're also fucked up." he interjected.

"No." she said standing.

"Yes, we are," he said to her.

Scene: Back in Damian's room his phone buzzed next to him cutting off his thoughts, he lifted his left hand and reached for his phone. He grumbled, and pressed the accept button before pressing his cell phone to his ears.

"Damian." The voice said, demanding.

"Yes," he said.

"I need those two hundred pages you promised me," the voice said.

Damian pinched the back of his neck and rolled his head up to the ceiling with his eyes close. "I'll get them to you."

"Tomorrow, send them to me by tomorrow morning at nine a.m. and not a minute later. I've given you many chances Damian, don't screw this up."

"Yes, I'll get them to you, two hundred pages and more," he said to the receiver.

"Fine, e-mail them to me, and we'll see what you have." Then the man hangs up.

Damian tossed his phone on the bedside table and took a drink of water. He took a deep breath and focused on his story again, he started to type . . .

Scene: The man sat on his chair late night at work, staring at his computer screen words and numbers all mixed up, looking like a foreign language to him at this late hour. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes shut focusing on the screen ones more, when the wooden door of his office open slightly. He raised his gaze to the door and released a breath when he saw her golden blond hair lose around her face.

"Can I come in?" she asks.

He nods and she walks in and closes the door behind her, turning the lock. She walks up to him and sits on the chair in front of his big wooden office desk.

"You're still working? It's late." She said in a small voice.

He looks at her and types in something on screen. "I'm trying to run away, mentally."

She smiles, "Then run away with me."

He looks at her again this time he didn't look away; instead he turned his whole body to her his arms resting on his desk. "She knows about us now and she understands."

"Good, now we don't have anything to hide," she flips a strand of her blond hair back from her shoulder.

He exhales through his mouth and looked around before fixing his gaze on her. "Amanda, we're done. I don't want to do this anymore."

Her posture straightened and her smile faded, "You need me."

He shook his head, "No, I don't. I don't need any of you, not you, not her."

"You're leaving her?" she asks her breath getting caught in the end.

He nodded, "Yes, and you."

"Me? How could you leave me?" she asks her eyes showing anger and defeat.

"It's easier for me to leave you than her. We don't have anything tying us together. With her . . ." he takes a breath, "There are a lot more things I have to take care of before I can actually leave her."

"But I can give you what you want." she quickly offered.

"Amanda, a family is not all I want. I do want a child, but not this way. I love her but what she did to me is something that's not easy for me to forgive and definitely not easy to forget." He dropped his head in his hands. "I'm lost . . . and, I just want to start over." He lifted his head, exhaustion flooding his eyes, "Not with you, nor with her."

Scene: In Damian's room his phone buzzed again, he looked at the clock on his screen and saw that it's seven fifteen in the evening. He groaned and picked up his phone.

"Hello?" he said a little too harsh.

"Damian, it's Karen." The woman said sweetly.

"Karen, good evening, how are you?" he said in a more calm composed tone.

"I'm fine, but my daughter Lisa says she bumped into Samantha's coworker Laura and said that Samantha hasn't been at work because she's been sick. Is she alright?"

Damian exhaled a breath, "Yes Karen she's fine. I'm taking care of her."

"Good, good. Well, then, how are you holding up? You need me to send soup there or something?"

"No!" his voice came out a little too loud, "No Karen, it's fine, really. She's sleeping now and I'm just really busy writing. I have a due date tomorrow."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Okay, I'll let you go. Tell my daughter I called when she wakes up, and to call me back," the woman said.

"I will goodnight Karen." Damian hanged up and took a deep breath. He set his phone down and looked at his fiancé next to him lying peacefully. He took another drink of water and straightened his laptop and looked at the time, it's seven twenty-six, he placed his hands on the keyboard and started to type.

Scene: The gray room was dark, the bed unmade, clothes still scattered on the floor, red lipstick smeared on the mirrors. He walks in the room slowly, looking around at the bed, at the clothes. He shakes his head at the mess, and slowly proceeds to the bathroom. He walks in the well lit bathroom, first thing he sees is the mirror, he turns his head to his left to the bathtub where the woman bathes.

"You're leaving me aren't you?" the dark haired woman asks.

He walks to the toilet and closes the lid, taking a seat facing his wife. "It's better if we end this," he says to her.

She lifts her right hand with a sponge and slowly runs it over her other arm squeezing water as she goes. The water splatters in the silence between them, echoing each movement. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

"She told me you love me," she said in a low voice. "Was that another lie?"

He opens his eyes, "No, it wasn't, I still love you."

She drops the sponge in the water and stands up in the tub slowly, water dripping down her whole body. He stares at her his breath rough. She reaches for the towel hanging and steps out the tub, she dried her face and let the towel drop in front of her, her gaze never losing contact with his.

"We can try again, you know? Start over together." She walks slowly towards him until she's only a couple of feet away.

He swallows, his right hand reaching to her left hand, then grazing it up to her arm, to her elbow. He moves his hand to her stomach and caresses her soft skin under her belly button.

"I'd like that; I'd like to start over with you. But, you know that . . ." He closes his eyes, her hand running through his hair, wetting it. Her right hand slides down to his temple then to his ear, then down to his chin making him look up at her.

"I know . . . I know what I did was wrong, and I've beaten myself up over and over for it. I will never forgive myself for what I did. But I can't take it back now; I'm stuck with this consequence forever." She pulls him up by his arms as he opens his eyes to her. "If you really do still love me and willing to forgive me or at least try. I will do my best to make you happy in any way I can and help you reach your dreams."

He touches her cheek with the back of his fingers, "I don't want it to be only my dream."

"Honey, whatever your dream is, is also mine. Whatever makes you happy makes me happy. I love you and I never want to lose you," she says to him.

Scene: The rain drop splatters again the glass window, water drops dripping down. She watches them, the water droplets roll down, her eyes waters again and her chest tightens her mind running away with her thoughts. She closes her eyes and holds the phone against her ear as she sits on the floor of her room.

A voice of a man plays after four rings, "Sorry I can't come to the phone right now, I'll call you back if you leave a message. Thanks."

She drops her phone and her hands reaches up to her hair grabbing a handful in each tightly. She sobs, then a scream builds up inside her. She lets go of her hair, letting wavy golden blond locks frame her face.

"I need you back, I'll do anything to get you back," she says to herself.

Scene: Damian yawns, making his eyes water. He looks at the clock, it's ten-twenty. He pushes his laptop off his lap and walks to the bathroom. He washes his hands and brushes his teeth; he looks up at the mirror above his sink and sees his reflection. He frowns and leans down in the sink splashing his face cold water. He grabs the towel hanging behind the door and dries his face. He walks back to the bed and grabs a red lipstick at his bedside table. He uncaps it and looks at the bright cherry red lipstick. He crawls up to his bed and looked at his fiancé her face peaceful. He smiles, pushing the cover of the lipstick back on and settled it next to his glass of water.

He pulls his laptop back on his lap, the time six minutes after the last time he checked. He takes a deep breath and types again . . .

Scene: His phone rings, he checked the caller ID, it's her. He ignores it and continued on with his work in his office. His phone rings again, he pinches the bridge of his nose and grabs his phone again, this time he answered it.

"I told you to stop calling me. It's over, Amanda. We're over . . ."

She cuts him off, "I want to see you, let's meet and talk. All I want is to talk."

He exhales a ragged breath, "In here in my office, come in two minutes."

"Let's meet at . . ."

"No," he said forcefully, "In my office, Amanda, two minutes, if you're not here then . . ."

"I'll be there," she said her voice breaking.

Two minutes later a knock on the door came, he called her in and stopped what he was doing on his computer. She walks in and closes the door behind her, locking it before she walks up to his desk.

"Sit down," he says to her gesturing at the chair across from him on the other side of his desk.

She sits down and straightens her skirt. "I know what you want, I understand."

"Then why are you here?" he narrows his eyes on her.

"I'd like you to know something before you completely cut me off out of your life," she says.

He nods to her to continue.

"I'm pregnant."

He looks at her eyes, then her lips, then down to her hands. He looks back up to her eyes again and a smile played around his lips. "You're a liar."

"And so are you . . ." she says looking back at him, unblinking. "And so is your wife."

He spins his chair to the side and stood up; he walked around his desk and stopped in front of her, leaning back to his desk. He crosses his arms and looks down at her. "What do you need Amanda?"

Her fingers twined together as she looks up at him, "I need you."

He shakes his head, "No you don't, you want me but you don't need me. What. Do. You. Need?" he asks again.

She looks around then to her hands, her eyes filled with tears when she looks back up at him. "Don't end this, please. I love you. I . . ."

"I don't love you Amanda. I'm sorry . . ." he uncrossed his arms and shoved his hands in his pants front pocket. "I'm sorry, but you have to accept that."

Scene: All the lights were on, brightening up the gray room. The bed made the floor clear from scattered clothes, the mirror clean, unprinted. She walks in the room and steps off her black high heels. She drops her purse on her bed and reaches behind her to unzip her deep red silk dress. He walks in the room, locks the door behind him and walks up behind her. He helps her zipping down her dress; she lets it fall on the floor. She turns around to him pulling on his tie lose. She undresses him until he's fully naked; she undressed herself until she was as naked as him. He lays her down on the bed gently, crawling up between her legs. He leans down to her neck spreading kisses, to her cheek, then to her lips. He guides himself in her entrance, her lips releasing a moan. He grabs a handful of her dark hair in his right hand as his left hand grips tight on her hips. She bites her lower lip as he pushes in slowly.

They moved together, synchronized shadows on the gray wall. The light touched their skin, turning them gold. The darkness outside envied their brightness as the only light in the street was dimmed yellow lights. The street is dark and empty except for her; she looks up at their window, her golden hair pale in the dark midnight sky.

"You're mine," she whispers into the night.

Scene: His eyes slid close and a second passed, two seconds, three . . . He opens his eyes and looked at the clock on his screen it's two fifteen in the morning. Damian shook his head and reached down to the bottom drawer of his bedside table. He grabbed the charger for his laptop and slid off the bed to plug it in. He sat back on the bed and pulled his laptop closer. He scans the screen and opened up another file. He read over a few sentence then closed it back, and opened up his e-mail to compose a new one. He attached the file he had just closed and types in a few message on the e-mail. He looked at the clock on the screen, it's two twenty-five, he waited, the minute changed, and he clicked send. He opens up his previews file and started to type.

Scene: Her heels clicked on the marble floor her dark hair swaying around her. She turns to the corner of the hallway and proceeded heading to a room, she looked at the room numbers, then on to the next left door she stops. She opened the door with her card key and pushed the door open. She walks in the room and sees her, lying on the bed naked.

Her eyes went over her body, then to her face, then to her golden blond hair splayed around her face.

"I knew you'd come," Amanda whispers. "I knew you wanted to see."

"Where is he?" she asks the blond.

The blond smiles and her right hand on her stomach slowly sliding up to her right breast. "He was just here as I told you."

"Where did he go?" she asks taking a step closer to the bed.

She rolls on her stomach and rested herself on her elbows, turning her head to the right where the dark haired woman stood, closer now. "He left to go and lie to you some more," she said in a low breathy voice.

"What did you two do?" taking another step to the bed.

Amanda smiled up to the woman, "He took off my clothes, and I took off his. He touched and kissed me all over."

The dark hair woman smiled and sat on the bed, she leaned down her face close to her golden blond hair. She whispers to her, "Did my husband fuck you?"

The blond nodded her eyes slightly wider than before.

The dark hair woman slipped her hand in her purse and held on to something sharp. She dropped her purse on the floor and crawled over to her, making the blond roll over to her back. The sharp hid in her right hand.

"How did he kissed you?" she asks the blond, her light blue eyes grew bigger her pink lips parting. She leans down to her and settles her lips on hers, her eyes close. She hovered her lips over hers then pulled back, "Like that?"

The blond nods slowly, she gasps as the other woman's left hand landed on the top of her thighs, up to her hips, then to her waist.

"Did he touch you like this?" she asks the blond her hand still moving up to the side of her breast then to her neck, it stopped. "Did he?" she asks again.

Amanda nodded and whispered, "Yes."

The dark hair woman laughed softly and dropped her head on the blonds' shoulder. "He was never here."

She swallowed, her chest tightening as the woman that hovered on top of her whispered in her ear. "He was never here. He never kissed you, or touched you." The dark hair woman pulled back to look at her face. Her dark brown eyes' digging deep in to her, "You want to know how I'm sure?" she asks before leaning down and kissing her cheek. "Because he was home, with me, fucking me," she whispers in her ear. She pulled back again to look at her light blue eyes that are now filled with tears. She continued, "When you called me and asked if I know where he is? I lied. I wanted to know what you'll show me. I wanted to see what he sees in you."

She looks at the woman lying on the bed under her. "And you know what I see?" she smiles, "An ugly lying bitch."

"I'm pregnant," Amanda said under her breath.

She narrowed her eyes down at the blond.

"It's true. I just had gotten checked up yesterday," the blond admitted quickly, "Check that drawer on the night stand if you don't believe me."

The dark hair woman pushed herself off of the blond and pulled the drawer. She looked in the almost empty box, a dark picture lay inside. She picked it up and stared at the picture, her eyes growing wide. She closed her eyes and when she opened them a tear rolled down her cheek. She ripped the picture, dropping it to the floor. She stood up and turned to face the woman on the bed, the blond now sitting up her blue eyes staring at her.

"He doesn't love you and he'll never will even if you're carrying his child," she swallowed as tears roll down her cheeks. "And you'll never be happy because that child doesn't belong to you."

The blond searched the woman's face, before the woman smiles and lurched on to her as a stinging pain cuts her on her chest, then another on her stomach . . .

Scene: Damian opened his eyes, he fell asleep. He quickly checked his watch; it's five ten in the morning. He yawned and reached down to unplug his laptop. He pushed off the laptop and pushed it all the way to the end of the bed. He slid himself down and stretched himself next to his fiancé.

"Samantha," he whispers.

Her face was slightly turned away from him, he reached to her face and with his fingers on her chin he slowly turned her face to him. He caressed her cheek with the back of his index finger, her skin soft under his touch. He stared at her for the longest time until his phone buzzed behind him. He turned and checked the caller, it was his publisher. He set the phone down and turned back to his wife. He checked his watch; it's five twenty-six. His phone buzzed again, he ignored it and settled himself next to his fiancé. He closed his eyes willing himself to fall asleep . . .

The room brightened and a thud came from the front door waking Damian up. He unwrapped his arm from his fiancé and sat up on the bed. His phone buzzed on the bedside table, he checked the caller, it was his publisher, he ignored it again. Then a loud bang against his wooden door blew, someone kicked his door open. He sat up and pulled his laptop on his lap as a rush of men run in his apartment their footsteps thudding on the carpeted floor. The sound came closer, closer now. Damian checked his watch; it's six twenty-six. He quickly pressed "send" as soon as the door to his room opened and a police man walked in a gun in his hand.

"Put your hands up sir," The policeman ordered.

Damian smiled, "Good morning officer. Would you like to meet my future wife?"

Scene: A man sat in a cold plain white room, a table separated him from a cop and another man in a suit, his lawyer sitting next to him. He swallowed and looked at the three other men in the room; they were all looking at him, waiting for him to speak. His lawyer picked off lint from his tie before looking up at him and then down to his brown v-neck sweater.

His lawyer spoke, "Tell them Larry, tell them what Damian sent you and what you read."

Larry swallowed before he opened his mouth, then once more looked at his lawyer before speaking, "He sent me an e-mail with a list of directions."

The other man in the suit across from him asks, "What was the direction?"

He answered, "One was to read the attached file. The second was to call him after reading the file. The third said, that if he didn't answer, it says to call the cops."

"And what was in the attached file?" the same suited man asks.

Larry's eyes watered and he pinched the bridge of his nose, he exhaled. "It was a story."

"Did you read the whole story?" the cop asks.

He nodded.

"What was the story about?" the suited man asked.

Larry looked at the suited man, "It was a story about a man, a writer. He starts off as a happy man, until . . ." he reached on the table for a water bottle, opened it and took a good swig or two. He placed the cap back on and settled it on the table. "The man in the story found out that his wife has been having an affair with one of her coworkers. It says how the man saw pictures of her naked on her phone and it was sent to a phone number he doesn't know. Then the man once followed his wife to a coffee shop where she was supposed to meet a friend. Instead, he . . ." Larry took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to remember the whole story. "He saw her meet up with a man, a tall man with dark hair, and dark blue eyes. The man in the story saw his wife kiss this man and touch him like how she touches him . . . then, he confronted her. She told him she'd break it off with the other man. But after a month later his wife admitted to him that she's pregnant, and it's not his, it's the other man's child." Larry cleared his throat. "The man in the story was devastated, heartbroken."

"This man in the story . . ." The suited man said, "Was his appearance described?"

Larry shook his head, "No."

"How about the woman?"

Larry shook his head again, "No, she wasn't."

"You know Damian and Samantha well do you not?" the suited man asks.

Larry nodded.

"How does Samantha look like?"

Larry looked down on his hands, "She was a gorgeous young woman, dark long straight hair, dark brown eyes, and ever since I met her she had always worn a bright shade of red lipstick. It was like her trade mark. She was the opposite of Damian."

"How so?"

"Just their hair and I color I meant, as hers was dark and straight, Damian's hair was golden blond, and it always looked messy, wavy. His eyes were a light blue color."

"Did you know there was anything wrong between them?"

Larry shook his head and shrugged, "If there was, they kept it well."

"Did Damian protrude any kind of thought to you as someone that could hurt his wife?"

Larry looked up at the man across from him. "No. Never."

Scene: Lisa sat next to her mom deep in mourning, tears rolled down her cheek as she held on to sobs breaking out of her. She looked at a picture of her sister, Samantha, and her head throbbed. The sun was bright outside, the light streaming in from the window. Her mom held to her, tightly, like she was the daughter she had lost. She reached around to her mother's shoulder, calming her with a light touch.

"Mom, please be okay." She said her voice breaking at the last word.

Her mom's shoulder shook as she tries to say, "She was so young, so beautiful."

Lisa sniffed and blinked tears away, "She still is," she said looking at her sister's picture.

Karen looked up to her daughter, her words choking her. "How could he do this to her? I thought he loved her."

Lisa let out a sob and patted her mom on the back, "He lied to us all."

"Lisa, "Karen whispered to her daughter, "We lost her . . . and her baby."

Lisa's eyes widened, "Baby?"

She nodded to her daughter.

"Mom, what are you talking about?" Lisa asked as she held on to her mom's shoulders.

Karen blinked and saw confusion in her daughter's eyes. "Damian and Samantha were going to have a baby. The autopsy came in today and said that Samantha was six weeks pregnant."

She gasped at the news her mother had told her, her eyes started to water again and her head spin putting the puzzles in place. Her mother held on to her arms and shook her out of her thoughts.

"What is it honey?" she asks her daughter.

Lisa gulped an invisible lump in her throat and stared at her mother, "Mom, Damian and Samantha can't have a baby."

Her mother's eyebrows furrowed.

"Together, they can't have a baby together. Damian is sterile mom, Samantha told me two weeks after they had gotten engaged . . ." she blinked and wished her theory wasn't true. "They tried everything for her to get pregnant, but it wasn't destined for him. Samantha told me she and Damian can never have a child together . . . so . . . maybe . . ."

Her mother's eyes grew and shook her head side to side furiously, "No Lisa! No! You're not trying to say, that . . . No! Samantha can never . . ." her voice broke before she finished.

Scene: Two days ago . . . the twenty-sixth of March. Damian sits on his coffee table his laptop in front of him a coffee mug next to it. He types on the keyboard, reviewing previous works and adding on ideas to his new story. He hears a clicking noise in the hallway before it stopped in front of the door. The door opens, his fiancé with her dark long straight hair lose around her beautifully framing her face, he smiles at her. Her eyes was hooded looking down on the ground, he felt her distance and worry creep in inside him, he stand up from his chair and walks over to his fiancé standing near the door way. He reaches behind and closes the door, locking it. He stands in front of her, tilting his head to get a good look of her face.

"What's wrong Samantha?" he asks her calmly.

She looks up to him her dark eyes searching in his, pleading almost.

He reaches up with his right hand to touch her cheek but she turns away. He drops his hands and takes a breath. "I won't be able to help you honey if you don't tell me what's wrong."

Her eyes turned glossy as she looks back up at him, as she bites her red bottom lips between her teeth. "What do you see Damian?"

He searched her eyes, "What do I see?"

"Yes, in front of you." She says softly.

He tries to smile, "I see you and your beauty."

She looks away, "I'm not beautiful," she says under her breath.

"Yes you are," he quickly added.

She looks at her hand reaching for his hand, "Don't leave me Damian."

He reaches for her chin with his right hand tilting her head up to look up at him, "I will never."

"I'm sorry for what I've done, I'm sorry for hurting you, for lying to you." She blinked letting tears fall, he quickly wipes them off with his thumb and opened his mouth to comfort her, but she didn't let him. "I'm sorry for not being the wife you deserve."

His eyebrows furrowed and his lips turned in to a line, "Don't say that Samantha, I love you and I've forgiven you."

She shakes her head, taking a step back, losing his touch on her. "Don't, don't forgive me, you can't."

"Why not?" he asks her his heart pounding, waiting for a blow.

She takes a deep breath and fixed her eyes on him. "Because Damian, I'm pregnant."

His breath caught, his throat suddenly feeling dry, he tries to swallow. "Samantha . . ."

"I know, it's not possible for us to have a baby but . . . it's because, it's not yours Damian. " She takes a deep breath as more tears roll down her cheeks, "It's Brent's." she added.

For a second the time between his heart beat seemed to go on forever before it pumped again. His eyes fixated on her, his voice gone, his lungs tight making him lose his breath. His mind raced, raced to the past, to the present, to the future. He tried to wrap his mind on what he just heard, he couldn't.

She dropped her head in her hands, sobbing now. "I'm sorry Damian, I didn't know. I thought . . . but I got checked up today and its positive . . . I don't know what to do."

"Lose it," he quickly said, his mouth running before his mind.

Her head popped up and her eyes wide looking at him, as she asks him, "Lose it? You want me to get rid . . ."

"Yes," he quickly replied. Deep in his heart he knew what he was asking her to do was wrong, he doesn't want her to get rid of it. But how could he live with himself? How could he take raising this child when it's not his, when it's a reminder for him of what she had done and worse what he couldn't give her?

"Damian . . ." she started to say her voice shaking. "Please, don't ask me to do that. I don't think I can, this . . ." her right hand resting on her stomach, "It's part of me . . ."

He closed his eyes tight as he says almost growling, "And part of him."

Her lips parted but she didn't continue as his eyes opened, light blue piercing through her.

"That thing . . ." he pointed at her, "I can never love you when you're carrying his child!" he takes a step forward at her. "And even if I accept it, we will never be happy together because that child doesn't belong to me. It's his! His child! Not mine!"

She shuddered at his tone, anger flowing out of his gaze his voice.

Damian grabbed Samantha's shoulder and kissed her roughly, he pulled back and gazed into her eyes. "Get rid of it or I'll do it myself."

Samantha closed her eyes, crying, fear overtaking her and heart break. She slowly shook her head and with a small breathy voice she said to him, "I will never get rid of something I've always wanted and love. It's my baby, and it's part of me, if you can't accept us then I'll leave."

Damian's vision darkened, his heart bursting out of him, his ears felt stuffed and he couldn't hear anything anymore. His hands felt stiff gripping on to something round and soft. His arms flexed and his body seemed to have fallen on the ground. Finally he blinked and when he opened his eyes the first thing he sees was her beautiful peaceful face, her eyes blank of life.

Scene: Larry sits in front of his computer, he drags his mouse over to his e-mail inbox and the first mail caught his attention right away. His heart thudded and sweat began to form on his forehead. He hesitated to open it at first but then he sees that the time it was sent about the same time Damian was arrested, he finally decided to open it. He clicked it and inside was a message and an attached file. He swallowed, his throat feeling tight and dry.

In the e-mail it said: "Larry, I'm sorry to have involved you in this. What I have done is done and I can't change it now. I did it, it was me. What everyone think about the story I had sent you was right, I am the man in the story, the woman was Samantha, the other man was Brent. You don't know Brent but he doesn't matter anymore. What matters is your story; I promised you I'd get it to you. So in this e-mail a story is attached. Read it, edit it, publish it if you want, I don't care. But when you do, I don't want you to put my name as the author instead I want you to keep it anonymous if you can . . . I love her Larry, I really do . . ."

Scene: A year has past, the snow had melted, the cold had left replaced by a nice fresh breeze in the air. The leaves growing back to its trees and flowers bloomed slowly. March twenty-six was the chosen date, why? No one knows. But in the window of a book store a dark cover bloomed, its pages still touching each other, it's waiting to be opened. It's the first day of its release and people walked passed it seeing the cover knowing its hiding a secret, words on paper with a dark meaning behind it, who wrote it? No one knows. But it's there and it's going to be opened and read by many, his secrets and story will finally be read and heard.





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