Life Rekindled

 

Life Rekindled

by

Ben Hannigan

 

The  crowd was tight packed and rushed, Callum felt almost crushed, like he could barely breathe. Still, he soldiered on. He hated Christmas shopping, had since his wife died but he had promised her towards the very end of the illness that took her that he would always celebrate.

 So he was here preparing to head to a family Christmas event. It had been six years but he was finally facing the rest of the world during the holidays, rather than staring at his tv with Chinese food in his pj’s, having ordered all his presents online so he didn’t have to speak to anyone or be forced to hear those ghastly false expressions of glad tidings from psaltic salespeople who couldn’t give a fuck about anyone they talked to other than for a tick on the target sheet.

 He stood searching for something for his mother. Lana usually handled all this or he did himself slowly working his way through the list and rather quicker working through the bottle of bourbon by the mouse pad. He finally, after what seemed like hours of searching in a hell of baubles, tinsel and tat, found a small, delicate, white pin that was apparanlty carved out of a whitish wood and trimmed with, a rosewood inlay spiral.

 As he reached for the box he felt the teasing brushing motion of a woman’s hand sliding over his. He paused almost guiltily enjoying the contact as he turned into the touch. Almost buried into his chest by the crush of the crowd was a small woman. Violet hair, five foot tall, bright pink eyes that were obviously contacts, all in a package containing boobs that were probably a thirty two B but looked huge on her frame. “Hey" he said to himself, "I’m a widower not dead." He nodded to her and asked “You want me to delve into this bin of pins and grab you one since I have the display one?”

 

She nodded gratefully, looking flushed and harried before he bent over the edge of the bin and delved. He was always fairly indifferent to the cold and today was no exception.  He was wearing an NFL style jersey, slightly baggy and riding up as he bent over into the barrel showing his toned body and the swirling mix of scars and tattoos that adorned much of his back. She stood admiring the sight as he delved and had to be nudged to realise he had retrieved the pin.

“Sorry just  tired I guess, spaced out.”

 He nodded and waved his hand sagely “It’s this shit that does it, sends people mental.”  Laughing and enjoying the brief moment that broke for just a second the tense nature of the Christmas shopping combat.

 Hours later Callum was stood in the queue. N,o not the queue, this was the tertiary queue, a sort of holding tank for the queue to the queue. Annoyed, he stood and steadily vaped producing a cloud of water vapour which in deference to the season had a heady odour of clove, orange peel, cinnamon and dark chocolate. Whilst being asked by the curious about the electronic cigarette he handed out business cards and talked about the tech whilst revelling in the hateful glares of the evangelical ex-smokers. Whilst enjoying his vape and lazily breathing smoke rings he was startled by a request. “Do the ship that floats through the smoke ring.”

 He laughed and said in response “Do I look like Gandalf?” as he spoke he turned and saw the violet haired girl in the sonic t shirt from earlier. She giggled, and that broke the ice. They started to talk. He was twenty eight, had been married until she got ill, he showed her the rings round his throat, his and hers. His Elrond’s ring of power, Hers Galadrial’s. They chatted about fantasy novels and film and television fitting comfortably in the hour they had to talk. As she paid for her purchases she scrawled a note which had the name of a pub and a time on it and bribed the cashier a fiver to give it to him. He checked out the mix of clothes, cheap kids toys for friends’ kids and the other old standards of present buying before being handed his receipt. Opening the note he read it and was shocked into freezing outside the store entrance. “Do I go? I mean it has been six years and she ordered me to be happy.” praying softly he waited for a sign, what to do which way to go. As he left the shop he heard the opening of the Christmas song that had defined his season as a married man, almost as if it was a preordained order for him to begin moving on and looking to the future.

 Checking the note again he headed to the pub realising if he ran through the crowds he could just about make it. He stopped outside and took a deep breath and had a quick vape to calm his nerves,.Stood by the pub door wondering whether he was doing the right thing. He almost heard her voice in his ear one last time telling him what he had told her before she died, “Be happy and live, if not for you but for me”. That was the last push he needed to open the door. Weirdly the pub was empty but for one person, the girl from earlier. She was sat at a table by the lit fire watching the snow fall outside, he moved past the bar ordered a drink and went to sit down. Over the next few hours they talked and talked, learning each other and just exploring the exciting and the newness of meeting someone and feeling that instant rush of attraction.

 They laughed and talked, and over the hours as the snow fell ate together and moved closer till in the end they were hand in hand as the bell for last orders chimed. Shrugging on their coats they were discussing where to go next when they were faced with the choice being made for them. The new couple slowly struggled with the door, first pulling gently then yanking harder then trying to tap it then pull before the bloke behind the bar came to look. Even with his help it wouldn’t shift. He turned the lights up and then they saw the true issue. The snow had piled up to the point that the door wouldn’t budge and they couldn’t leave.

 

 “Well this solves that question.” Lucy giggled before turning to the barman. “Still have a room spare for tonight?”

 

He nodded laughing a little before digging out the key and grabbing a couple of bottles of beer for himself and sorting a final drink for each of the couple.

 

Heading up the winding stairs they walked together still hand in hand and Callum stood at the door awkwardly. Lucy  plucked both drinks from his hand and returned slyly grinning before pulling him into a deep long rough kiss by his shirt collar and dragging him through the open door, kicking the door shut as she pushed him to the bed ravishing his mouth and running her hands across his body.

 

The Glow of the Lights

Today's contribution is from Ben Hannigan.  He has written for Storytime for some time now.  His previous short stories are in archives.  Ben stated that he was inspired by something he hates about the holidays that he turned around to make better, at least in fiction. 

The Glow of the Lights Look Like a Burning City

by

 

Ben Hannigan

 

David weaved his way across the crowded office, moving through the typing coven sat cackling at some god-awful cracker joke. Past the logistics office supervisor waxing lyrical to his giggling secretary who was drunk enough to fawn, passing the mid forties HR drone who was absorbed in being noisily sick in the bin that lived under Chris’s desk. As David walked past he casually opened the whelp’s desk drawer and poured the first full bin in, well he never liked the smarmy little brown-noser who could only be seen when the boss yawned, and Christmas was the season of giving and sharing after all.

 

Feeling chafed by the forced hilarity of these things but trapped by the fact the taxi’s booked for everyone were a long four hours away, all he wanted to have done was be seen and noticed so the bosses couldn’t come down on him about lacking company spirit or whatever bullshit buzzword that was currently in vogue. He cracked a few jokes shook hands dropped off his secret santa gift on the table and collected his own, amused by the note, ‘open privately others would be Green with envy’. When pressed to open it by his colleagues he muttered something about waiting till the twenty fifth and this was accepted.

 

Walking through the smoking room that after the ban had become a breakroom that had become dominated by the sales team, what once was the preserve of the smoking subculture. a place where rank and role were forgotten and discussion was between equals, a dark area of cynicism and subversion as they discussed the world, putting it to rights in a haze of smoke, had been repainted in garish, ‘bold’ colours with designer chairs that when sat on seemed to be more akin to torture devices than comfortable seating and filled with posters that were a mix of explosions, border line pornography and football.

 

He snagged a bottle of Kahlua from the seemingly endless bar and slowly meandered through the crowd, shaking hands backslapping and keeping up his appearance of ‘A Good Egg, bit quiet, typical IT bod’ the image that saw him left alone and able to get what he requested from the annual budget. David was well the stereotypical IT guy, he was described by many to his private amusement as Harry Potter at the post grad level. He took the joking well and his self deprecating humour made him popular enough to slide in and out of conversation with most of the company, well other than the testosterone fuelled sales wankers, who were far too up their own arse to notice him as in their mind’s they were the star quarterback’s of the ‘team’ and all the “support staff” should be at their beck and call due to the fact ‘we are the company, we make the money we rule the roost’. Amongst these secondary schoolboys, all brash Ben Sherman suits and a taste for blow, the skinny, messy haired David standing in converse, combat trousers and a faded Blondie shirt stood out and was a frequent target for what they called ‘banter’ but the rest of the company privately called physical and attempted sexual abuse. They never did connect his bullying with the fact that their pornographic email exchanges with vapid secretaries got pasted up in the bogs* with startling regularity.

 

Seeing the head of Sales passed out on the floor, whilst his comrades were busy photocopying their arses and guffawing, he adorned the twats face with a permanent ink message across his forehead proclaiming him to ‘Suck harder than a Dyson and fuck better than the Tomson kid.’ Once he had finally moved out of the main areas of the building and disappeared into the bowels of the company, he headed for the server room. Punching in the access codes and entering the room he began to climb up the ladder leading to the air con units. Unlocking the access door with a key that didn’t exist he stepped out onto the roof. Bathed as it was in the glow of the city of London’s Christmas display he murmured to himself awed by the sight, “it’s almost as if the entire city’s on fire.”

 

He took a small tin from his bag and then stopped for a second and using the knife he carried for cutting and trimming cable he carefully opened the present, unravelling the plain white paper, he saw a cardboard box. Intrigued he slit the box open and buried inside the shredded paper packing material were two things, the first was a small pipe, all brass and dark mahogany. His love of Steampunk was well known at work, due to his habit of wearing Victoriana with a twist to important meetings and when consulting with outside clients and vendors, the PHD Potter transformed by nineteenth century dress into that era’s image of a dapper young gent. So far there had been no indication of the identity of the gift giver. This was the challenge of the event, to find and thank the giver before the end of the year.

 

 The second object was a brass circular tin, which he unscrewed to reveal something that shocked him. He was so careful, so organised and it didn’t touch his work life. No imagery, no clothing glorifying the habit, no nothing, so how did this mystery secret Santa know.

 

It was a brass grinder and in the space under the mechanism, was an eighth bag, an eighth of what he found upon examination, a beautiful example of his ‘medication’ not only that but it was his preferred blend, Rokenj’s exclusive AMG. Which was a bastard to get, relying on bringbacks from the ‘dam.

 

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, reasoning that it will all come out in the wash anyway but still confused because he didn’t ever smoke at work. He packed it all away deep into his bag and took the black cherry rollup from his tin and had a fag whilst pondering the mystery of who it was who knew so much of the life that when at work didn’t exist. Sipping from his coffee cup, the purloined Kahlua, he pondered and stared out at the city with his legs hanging over the side of the air con unit, eighties punk playing from his tablet and just relaxed.

 

Lost in his music and his drink half an hour and 4 rollies had passed before he registered the fact that he was no longer alone. The ladder to get to the top of the air con unit was rolled up next to him, he heard a Midwestern drawl ‘Oi, Potter throw down the ladder. I know it’s you.’ It was Ms M, the head of security for the organisation. To the majority of the staff, she was a stone cold bitch, calm, collected and very, very well trained. To David however, she was the closest thing he had to a friend at work. Kicking the ladder down, he waited and when she reached the top, offered her a hand up. She sat down with an elegant sprawl as David asked ‘How did you know it was me?’

 

‘Honestly Potter, who else smokes cherry tobacco roll ups and has access to this rooftop? I should confiscate the key but you get too much crap from the sales monkey’s so I figure you deserve a perk or too. Plus plastering their sordid little rendezvous across the lav gives me something to laugh at when I’m waiting in the queue.’ She laughed and offered him a chocolate. Taking one he relaxed and passed over the bottle, they sat in a companionable silence sipping coffee liquor and swapping stories of the fucked up things they had seen in the company. They worked closely monitoring risk and security, Judi, the physical and David the virtual. ‘Inspired work with regards to the head of sales by the way.’ She grinned.

 

‘I don’t know what you are talking about’, he replied grinning.

 

‘Oh come on Potter, no one else knows the last name of the bossman’s daughter aside from me or the fact she’s currently in rehab for sex addiction after being caught pulling a train with half the arsenal first eleven’, As she said this he snorted Kahlua from his nose and nodded, knowing he had been caught and looking like a schoolboy who had been caught behind the bike shed with a fag.

 

Though she was a yank by birth, this thirty year old cuddly, big boobed sweet looking five foot blonde had adapted to the local slang very well due in no small part to spending time at work chatting to David and investigating the dodgy end of the London office. ‘can I cadge a skin?’, he handed over the little blue pack and she rolled a cig and lit up before grinning and impulsively kissing him on the cheek. “Thanks for the Secret Santa prezzie, buying me a silver crackerjack secret decoder ring and an airsoft ppk made me giggle.’ He blushed and mumbled ‘no problem, it seemed very you’, desperately wishing he could skin up to calm his nerves, he was crap at talking to women unless he was stoned. She sat with him and asked ‘so did you follow the instructions in the card?’ startling him as he hadn’t shown anyone the request. ‘You?!’ he half stated half asked and she nodded in response. ‘How did you know? I mean no one here knows I smoke the stuff’

 

She laughed and said ‘Silly boy, when I drew your name I followed you for a week so I knew what you would want.  I saw you drop your pipe and smash it and I spoke to your doctor. The pain is getting worse and the morphine’s making you sicker.  I worried and had something sorted that would work.’

 

he stammered a thank you and gave her a hug lingering a little longer that a hug between friends, touched by the gesture.

 

‘Do you mind if I?, she shook her head and unwrapped the pipe from the packing for him and produced her own, she packed his pipe for him and grinned, ‘Lets break this new one in together’, she held it to his lips and with the gentleness and the care of a nurse set her lighter to the bowl as he took the first draw. He gave a quick thumbs up and told her the pipe drew wonderfully and held it out to her for a hit, putting her own aside she took it gratefully and they passed the next half hour smoking drinking and talking, talking about this, that, good, bad and the downright bizarre.

 

Over that half hour they started leaning against the wall slowly sliding closer to each other starting with the bottle between them and moving slowly until the two were stoned in a happy gentle way, not mindlessly giggling or paranoid rocking but just relaxed curled into each other, her cuddling into him, neither really minding that the pipe had fizzled out due to it being neglected. She looked up at him as he stared into her eyes. Neither had any idea who had kissed who first or who moved which way but they found themselves embracing, not a gentle chaste kiss but a deep slow passionate tongue tying kiss. They moaned into each other and moved together like they had been doing this for years, she moved her hand up behind his head and pulled him down to the floor as he slowly began to undo her blouse. They stood together still kissing to lay their jackets on the cool metal and she slid his shirt off, running nails down his spine. He bared her shoulders and pushed the shirt off kissing and licking down her neck and throat treating her body as some kind of ice lolly, undoing her bra with her help he moved down to her boobs, tasting, teasing, sucking ,caressing as she slipped her hand down his jeans whilst slipping his shoes off with her bare feet. They stroked each other with their feet as they bared their upper bodies. Judy caressing each and every scar on his body. He touched and kissed all that was in reach, her stroking his cock slowly, giggling as he mewled with need and struggling to undo and pushed off her jeans before slowly fingering her and spreading her legs as she yanked his jeans off completely moving down his body and licking his length sucking slow and gentle, him responding by spinning her round and tasting the nectar between her thighs, licking slowly gently exploring her as she did him.

 

It wasn’t nervous or awkward because they weren’t thinking, they were just moving together, enjoying the moment, the contact and the feelings. They were acting on feelings and desires without the nervousness of expectation. She gasped as he rolled his hips and they both came together not with a crash but as with every part of there contact, gentle and relaxed, laying there nude gasping, coming down in more than one way. He rolled over blushing and said ‘hi’. She got her breath back opening her eyes and moving close whispered, ‘I should have got you stoned a year ago, would have saved me rsi from nights indoors’.

 

He squeaked and looked everywhere but at her face for a second processing her comment and responding with an elegant ‘whaaaa? Me? You? You did? What?’ she snorted and giggled, ‘one of the things I’ve always loved about you is your way with words’. That line, breaking the ice she hoped and she lit up when her comment evoked his trademark low smirking laugh.

 

She got her breath back from the shared laughter first and grinned, noting he was reacting to her state of dress and slid over from his left hand side into a new position straddling him and looking deep into his eyes. ‘I want this, I want you, I am not being taken advantage of and I need this, look at my eyes, I’ve come down again and this is me, not drug fuelled and needing anybody, any warm, hard body. This is me David, sober, ready and wanting you.’ she sank down onto him in one long stroke and he moaned a long deep moan more akin to animal than man. She could tell he wasn’t sure what to do, whether this was a drug induced dream and also where to put his hands and whether he could touch her.

 

She lent into him her nipples brushing his chest, she could feel his heart racing through his skin, could feel the pounding as his blood coursed through his veins. ‘David darling, how the fuck did you get through uni, to PHD no less without someone taking you, pulling you close and spoiling you?  How did someone not just pull you into their bed, feed you and fuck you silly?’ He spluttered and tried to answer the words not making sense. ‘ssssh’. She replied placing a finger against his lips. ‘it’s all ok, I’m glad, means I have something special and even if you and me don’t work or you don’t want me, I will always be remembered’.

 

He laughed ‘oh god Judy, I will always remember you, this. God, fuck this is so fucking good. Please take my virginity please. My gift to you, but please be my girlfriend after this, after tonight’. She kissed him softly and eagerly.

 

‘God I really hoped you would say that, say that you want me, want an us.’ She rolled her hips eagerly, grinding into her boyfriend focusing on the act on him, pushing him closer and closer to the edge of oblivion, rocking, grinding, bouncing into him faster and faster, shaking and mewling into her first and second crescendo, her wails and moans lost in the hum of the generator spooling up. The whole ledge they were laid on moaning gasping was vibrating, the movement and shaking rocking them into each other and making every feeling deeper, hotter and more intense. He was getting into it, more confident more able, taught by her but also by animal instinct fucking her. Kissing her. without any training knowing things that feel good for her, his new girlfriend, like squeezing, teasing, wriggling into her and sliding a finger across her tight arsehole as he stroked and worked her clit. It was almost a howl, as they raced each other to completion, racing but waiting neither wanting to finish first. She leaned into him biting his throat, sucking his neck teasing as he thrust a finger into her arse and took the chance to nip her throat as she nipped his. They rocked and whimpered into each other one last time, her clenching on him whilst biting their throats and caressing each others most intimate sensitive parts, she gave one final wail and the last bite fair tore into him forcing him to drag his teeth over her in the same way. The faint copper tang of blood on the kiss they shared as their final bone shaking orgasm tore through them, him exploding into her fast, hard, long, and deep as she clenched almost sucking and milking him dry.

 

‘Wow’ they murmured together, ‘wow indeed’ ‘you can say that again,’ David replied.

 

‘Wow indeed’

 

‘Prat’ David muttered fondly as the conversation devolved into soft kisses and the laughter of a couple in that happy post coital afterglow. The air grew cool on their skin with the sheen of sweat chilling them and in response they helped each other dress, snatching kisses and tastes as they went. Heading back down to the party, they shyly reached for each others hands. Re-entering the main room they weren’t noticed until the CEO saw the door open during his speech and toast. He began to call for silence and calm as he thanked the staff, section by section announcing awards and praising individual success stories. When he reached the point where IT and Security were the two groups left he asked. “           Can the head of IT and the head of security come to the front?”

 

They moved as ordered and the whole party saw they had become a couple with the evidence of love bites and handholding. He congratulated them for their projects and their work before calling for his briefcase, opening it, he handed fifty pound notes to various people and laughing announced “As you can see I have kept my word and paid out the bets,’ turning to the couple he admitted ‘when we did the Ssecret Santa this year we set it up so you would get each other because well we had been making bets on when you would get together since Potter here started working for us.” He ruffled their hair and hugged them both. ‘congrats but we need a decision, which place is the cab going tonight?’ This brought raucous laughter and cheers and a blushing Laura said ‘mine.’

 

The gathering broke up with congratulations and giggles from the crowd and the young couple slinked off into the night in the back of a black cab pouring their love into each other both thinking to themselves ‘Thank god I didn’t skive the party and thank fuck I fucked off from the main chaos’, Laura also mumbled into David’s  arms as they fell into bed, “so glad I went to find you.”

 

They laughed, cuddled kissed and drifted off into each others arms ready to face a bright new future together.

Deck the . . . Greg

Welcome to Storytime Trysts. Some of you might remember me from my short story of ‘Grave Whispers’, others I might be a new author to. I’ve been writing most of my life and have only joined Storytime Trysts in October. This month I’ll have a flash fiction contained below and a two part story later this month. I hope you enjoy them. –Misty

Deck The…Greg.

By Misty Harvey

The snow pounded down onto the valley. Christmas lights fearlessly lit up the surrounding area. Some houses had even gone far enough to decorate their front yards. Happy scenes of grinning elves, reindeer, and even a few religious items beamed from yards.
No matter what station you turned to on the radio there was always a Christmas song. Even shops joined in the joyous holiday playing their tired tracks. People packed as tight as they could in the stores doing last minute shopping. The holiday was only hours away, and then everyone would be headed for home. Each had their loved ones to spend the holidays with.
Becca tucked the bag of groceries into the passenger seat of her car. It wasn’t that she hated the holiday, but this year she’d be spending it alone. She’d followed her husband to the next base. They’d barely had time to settle, before he got the orders. He’d be spending the holiday overseas. As they were still only months into their marriage there were no children to celebrate with either.
Becca had long since accepted that there would be times that they would have to spend holidays apart. She’d just always held out hope that it would never be Christmas. It was after all, her favorite holiday of the year.
She slid behind the wheel, cranking over the engine on her beat up sedan. It took three times, but the engine finally roared to life. She’d need to take the beater in very soon for a checkup. Becca edged out of the parking lot, taking it slow on the slick roads.
She parked in the driveway looking at her house. It was the only one naked on the block. No Christmas lights and no yard decorations. That had always been Greg’s area of expertise. No Greg, no Christmas. Her family was too far away to celebrate with.
Becca slid into the house after kicking the snow off her boots. She looked at the festive tree. It had packages piled beneath it, but it would be summer before they were opened. She moved to the kitchen, setting the groceries and her keys on the counter. The house seemed so quiet, and her thoughts were dark in the quiet. Becca moved to the living room to turn on the radio.
She froze. The floor was decorated with a trail of brightly colored rose petals. Becca’s brow furrowed. Her fingers wrapped tightly around the bat Greg insisted she always keep handy. She’d never heard of a burglar that left a trail of flowers, but she wasn’t going to find out too late.
Her steps were cautious as she wound up the stairs to the second level. Her heart beat at a rapid rhythm. The door to her room was partially closed. She never closed her door. Becca pressed herself against the wall. Inwardly she cursed Greg for being gone at that moment. She summoned all of her courage, afraid of what she’d find in the room. Becca pushed the door open with the bat, while jumping into the room. She felt like a ninja ready to protect her property.
“Hi – ya!” Becca screamed swinging the bat wildly. She hadn’t expected the pathetic attempt of defense to work, but the metal bat vibrated her whole body. It had come into contact with something. That something had been hard enough to create resistance.
“Oof.” The groan sounded as the large mass sank to the floor. He landed hard on his knees. Nothing had registered with Becca, but that there was an intruder.
“Take that – and that.” Becca hit the man with the bat. He finally reached out grabbing the bat. One quick yank pulled the bat from Becca’s hands.
“Enough, Bek.” Greg groaned out. The bat clanged onto the floor behind him. Becca froze in horror. She’d just pummeled her husband with a bat. She looked around the room. There were petals covering the bed. Candles were lit around the room. To rub it all in deeper, her husband was wearing nothing but a pair of red velvet boxers, with a Santa hat.
“Oh, Greg. I’m so sorry.” Becca collapsed onto her knees in front of him. She threw herself around his body. Greg’s jaw clenched, but he held her all the same. The feel of his wife wrapped in his arms after a year and a half was incredible. He’d missed her so much.
“It’s okay.” Greg lifted her face to his with a finger placed beneath her chin. He leaned down and tenderly covered her lips with his own. That first kiss after so many months brought every ‘Hail Holy Night’, ‘Jingle Bells’, and ‘Noel’ crashing around them. Becca’s hand slid up to cup Greg’s neck. The silent tear of joy that slid down her cheek, rested where their skin met. Greg broke the kiss. His thumb caressed her cheek. Their eyes reflected the twinkle of joy at spending another moment together. “Merry Christmas, Bee.” Greg spoke, his voice cracking with emotion.
“Merry Christmas, Greg.” Becca smiled, grateful to have her soldier home.

All That Glitters

 

All That Glitters

 

by

 

Ellie Mack

 

 

Putting the car in park I called my best friend Stacey.  “Well, I’m here.  I don’t see his car, but this is the place he told me.  I’m so excited. Do you really think he’s going to do it?”

“Yes!  It’s so romantic!  I’ve heard it’s the best restaurant in town.  Can you take a picture of it in the bathroom and send me at least?”

I turned the ignition off and checked my makeup.  “OK.”  We squealed together before I ended the call.  Dmitri and I had dated for a year, tonight marking our one year anniversary.  It was turning out just like one of our conversations when he’d asked me about things I thought were romantic.  The holiday lights twinkled, the  snow lightly falling, and the crisp chill in the air contributed to the romance.  He couldn’t have made it more perfect if he’d had a movie set.  We had talked about a romantic dinner, then a sleigh ride together in the lightly falling snow as he proposed.  I glanced down the street and sure enough a white horse with an elegantly decorated sleigh with a man in top hat and long tails. 

I blinked several times to keep from crying.  It was absolutely perfect. I had fallen madly in love with Dmitri after four months.  He was charming, kind, and had a great sense of humor.  I took a long slow breath as I walked carefully to the door in the new fallen snow.   Blowing out a steady stream of air, as I entered, I glanced around but didn’t see him.   Tonight he would make it official.

The maître de escorted me to a corner booth that had a single red rose in a vase.  I had arrived before Dmitri.  I sat nervously scanning the crowd.  The waiter brought my wine while I waited.  Ten minutes later he arrived with another woman’s hand in his. 

“Sonya, I’d like you to meet my fiancée’ Claire.”  I stood and nervously extended my hand.  His fiancée’?  He scooted into the booth, staying close to Claire, their fingers laced together.  I couldn’t help but stare.  Was this his idea of a joke?  Claire was a lovely girl.  Physically the opposite of me in every respect; blonde hair, blue eyes, fair skin, and a rail thin body.  I couldn’t help but evaluate against my own dark hair, brown eyes, olive skin, and curvy figure. 

Dmitri bragged to me that he had taken my idea of a perfect romantic evening to propose – to Claire. They had just returned from their carriage ride and he wanted her to meet his work associate that he’d gotten the idea from.

I wondered if she knew that the conversation came after a passionate night of lovemaking.  Could you even call it that?  Apparently it was just sex to him.  As she beamed, and he chatted on my mind went back over the past year to the date.  I looked for any signal that I had missed, but didn’t see one.  I was reeling, wanting to scream. At one point Claire had thrown out that they had dated for six months.

Claire excused herself to the restroom and Dmitri patted my hand and said. “Don’t worry babe, you’re still my little bit on the side.”

I was devastated.  After a few seconds I gathered my wits.  “No.  I am nobody’s bit on the side.  Thank you for clarifying things for me.  Also, thank you for remembering the date, however poor taste it is to ask me to meet you on our anniversary to find out you’re a two timing snake.  Does Claire have any idea that her ‘darling’, I put extra emphasis on it the way she had, proposed to her the way your “work associate”  using my fingers to quote the phrase, suggested after fucking your brains out?”  I waited just a couple seconds.  “NO?  I didn’t think so.”  I gathered my purse and scooted out of the booth.  I turned around to face him. “Congratulations.  Thanks for clearing my schedule for me.  I certainly hope it doesn’t take Claire as long to see you’re a snake.”  I took two steps then turned.  “Oh, and don’t bother showing up Monday.  You’re fired.”

I heard Claire asking him what I meant by what I had said as I walked out into the snowy night.  I managed to get to the car before the tears flowed, driving straight to my apartment.  I didn’t see that one coming.