The Game Of Lust

Count On Me

“ He left that night cause she wouldn't give him any peace, she began fixing him up with her friends and the kind of women she wanted him to marry, she suffocated him until he couldn't take it any longer and stormed out … that was the last time we saw him alive.”

“That's awful, I'm really sorry about that,”

“She even wrote down speeches for us to give at his funeral.”

I remembered that day clearer than I could remember anything else, I never got the chance to say what I really wanted to say about Edward because mother didn't want any mistakes that day, I could still recall what was I forced to say, “Nothing can express the pain I feel from losing you, but you will always be in all of our hearts,” and that was it, I wanted to say more but I couldn't.

How could I ever blame her enough for driving Edward out of his mind with her insatiable need for control. Edward was obedient, he became the doctor she wanted him to be, he gave up so much trying to please her.

“I know just how you feel,” Louie said and pulled herself closer to me. I couldn't understand why I was honest and open around her, she had some kind of spell on me, I just wasn't myself with her.

She laid beside me, telling me stories till I eventually fell asleep in her arms like a child.

A week had passed since my outburst and luckily for me Margret still hadn't returned, we'd been married for five months but it felt shorter given the fact that I had only seen her a couple of times in those five months, Margret felt more like a memory than a moment, she was hardly home and never in the country, with the task of running her father's company she had to make herself up to the task, travelling abroad from one meeting to another. I often wondered if she had anytime for herself between the many flights and business meetings but she somehow made time for Richardson's book launch, as much as I wanted to nag on about how cheated I felt, I decided to put all of that energy into my writing. With Louie's help I'd already come up with a title for it, “The Crimson Rose”

I'd even sent the manuscript to Jonathan Davis my agent whom I least expected to take my call after all I'd put him through. He was surprisingly glad to hear from me.

I was finally feeling good about something. Louie came in to my room and meet me with my face glued to the computer. I was pushing myself as hard as I could, knowing that if I were to accidently slack off on my writing for a day then I would spend the next four months procrastinating. I sighed loudly as I stretched my aching back.

“ If you don't rest you're gonna hurt your eyes,” she said. I remained there and didn't look away, though I could see her reflection on the computer screen, standing behind me with both her hands behind her back. She looked around and trottered to the book shelf, she pulled out Richardson's novel “Below her wings!” she exclaimed excitedly, “I didn't know you had this book!”

“I didn't know I had it either,” I said tartily and turned back to my work. I could have sworn I disposed of the book but for some reason it kept coming back to haunt me.

“I read it the week it was released, It's amazing, I even got him to sign on my copy, ”

“Really? What did you think of him?” I asked curiously.

“I see him often since he's a friend of Mrs Hamish but I've never really spoken to him,” she explained “He's polite, very funny and charismatic, it felt like I was meeting a good old friend you know, he just has that vibe.”

“I've met him before and I can hardly agree with you, ” I replied, she turned to me and her lips opened into a hearty laugh.

“You know, I think you'd very much enjoy it if you'd read it,”

“I'll have to politely declined.”

“Oh come on it wouldn't hurt!” she walked to me and placed the book on my laps with a smile on her face and skipped out of the room.

I flipped through the pages impatiently, then suddenly something caught my attention, the name "Marinette Hancher" sounded some what like “Margret Hamish” Louie was right, Richardson was a good writer, a very graphic one as well. He described the naked body of Marinette as something smoother than dust but as polished as marble, her curves, the birth mark on her breast. It all sounded familiar to me perhaps I was just paranoid, and then I remembered his speech, when he stated that Margret was his inspiration. Had he really seen that much of her to know just where her birth marks were. But still that wasn't enough proof, I remained there for another hour reading the chapters that caught my attention, he talked about her habit of incessantly wet wiping ever thing she touched, without a doubt it was Margret. There came a passionate scene as he titled it, where he and his female lead, Marinette made love in a public restroom, I could think of one word to describe that scene and it was rather "Disturbing" perhaps it was fact that I unconsciously imagined he and my Margret that made me feel sick to my stomach.

Sadly I was unable to continue such a well written novel, truthfully I would rather have slammed my fingers between a shutting door. But to my surprise, I learnt a few things from his book, and that was never have s*x in a public restroom but that aside It appeared to me that Richardson's book "Below her wings" seemed more of a real life s****l fantasy than a wild imagination.

I didn't feel as bad as I'd expected, perhaps I was getting over Margret.

For the few weeks since our little fight I decided it would be best to call it all off, that is to get a divorce even though we'd barely spent an entire day together, it all seemed laughable to me. What would Mother think?, she'd all her hair our, if I told her, or worse she'd pull my hair our.

But after everything I read all everything I felt, it became clear to me that Margret and I weren't compatible or could it have been louie getting into my head? Could it be possible that I was falling in love with louie, but I'd only slept with her a couple of times, normally it more than that for me to make such a strong conclusion. I immediately shook the thought out of my head, before I could continue, my phone rang from under the pile of books, I put down the novel in my hand and picked up my phone, it was Huey calling, “What's up Hue?”

“I got it!” he yelled in excitement.

“Got what?” I asked

“I got Stella's number!”

“Well you took your damn time didn't you?”

“I'm not like you freddy, when I meet a woman, I like to take it slow, and Stella's the kinda woman I'd wait

for … no matter how long.”

“Don't rub off all that fairy tale energy on me, you know I despise such.” I said in a sarcastic tone, “don't tell me you're In love! ”

“I would but then you wouldn't understand Freddy, cause you've never been in love before.”

“That can be true!”

“Then tell ne one woman you've actually loved,”

I immediately went Silent, struggling to recall all the woman I've been with. I knew there was one woman I actually fell in love with but I hardly ever talked about her, since she was no longer with me, it felt easier not talking about her at all. I couldn't forget what caused our fight. We went out to get gas and a group of women saw me and recognized me, back then I was still a well known writer. One of the ladies was particularly or rather overly friendly with me but it didn't bother me, I'd grown so used to all the attention but she didn't quite like the women swooned by my presences.

She was angry and I wasn't, all I could remember after that was an upcoming vehicle and the next I knew, I woke up in from a three weeks coma and after that nothing felt the same. It took me so long to get behind the wheel after all that happened.

“Alfred! Alfred! Are you still there? ” Huey called, bring me out from the deepest crevices of my thoughts.

“Yea, I'm still here,” I jumped, adjusting the phone closer to my ear.

“Did you fall asleep or what? ” he queried.

“What? no! I just spaced out a bit.”

“So you're home alone?”

“something like that,”

“Invite me over, I'll keep you company bro,” he laughed.

“No … you'd hate it,”

“That's not possible, I love rich people. ”

“I'm gonna hang up now” I chuckled

“Wait … before you hang up I need you to help me pick out a suit,” he quickly said.

“A suit? Huey? You want to wear a suit?” I found it incredibly hard to believe, the only time I had ever seen Huey in a suit was at my wedding and we literally had to force him into it. Huey's favourite outfits were ugly shorts and tank tops, if he wasn't wearing a sweaty tank top, he'd have a Hawaiian shirt on or a T-shirt that said "Spank"

“She wants to go out with me mehn and I don't wanna ruin it! ”

“Well she has been seeing you all this while and I don't think she minds.”

“Will you help me or not?”

“How could I miss such an opportunity!” I laughed, he grumbled in annoyance and hung up. Heuy was in love and I couldn't help but feel cheated some how. “I must be the unluckiest man in the world,” I said to myself, I glanced through the window, I could see a figure, behind the small trees and the bushes, towards the swimming pool, I hastily pushed my seat back and stood, hoping to get a better view of the person. It wasn't Flora, and the gardener didn't come on Wednesdays. It was a much slender figure, one I couldn't mistake, Louie.

She was squatting down, facing the pool. The sun on the other hand shone brightly on the water and the glistening ripples created a magical kind of effect that reflected on her skin, it was like watching an angel, her ginger hair turned gold under the sun.