Castlefields, North West England
2 Days After Christmas
7 Celsius with snowfall
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The Devil’s Advocate Pub
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“Cheers.” Sergio held up his three fingers of rye, and James did the same. James, who had been tossing back whiskey for the better part of an hour, decided to take it slow this time. He was getting the urge to pour his heart out about something and knew it was time to gather himself. He had been stuck in the house since Tuesday and was finally relieved when Sergio invited him out, and to the bar no less. A blizzard had covered the city in nearly 8 inches of snow overnight, and he’s been going stir crazy ever since. That was three days ago. He could have taken his Porsche for a drive Monday night one last time before the blizzard started, but he underestimated how much it would be. And by the looks of it, it will be starting again soon. It didn’t stand a chance against Sergio’s Land Rover Defense. “You think we’ll have ‘til New Year’s off? I heard it’s supposed to get worse. Probably have us in the house like prisoners at this rate.” “God, I hope not.” James said through a burning exhale. The thought of being “trapped” with his wife, had him wanting to grind his teeth. Their cottage style home is big enough where they didn’t have to cross paths with one another. She had become a recluse around Halloween time, finding comfort in late night baths and compartmentalizing aloud when she thinks she’s alone. Hearing her voice is enough for him; most times. Sometimes he hated it. But not as much as the deafening silence. “I need to hit the head, I’ll be back.” Sergio nodded.
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James hands gripped both sides of the sink as he glared at himself in the mirror. Dark circles began to form around his bottom lids, and his hair had begun to fall forward. He wet his hands and smoothed them back in his hair, reactivating the products. He splashed the water on his face as well, waking himself up. When he came back out, he realized a big group of people had entered, and now the place was much louder. He liked it, but he was ready to take his leave. After shooting the shit with Sergio a bit more, he decided he was ready to go. “I’m actually going to walk.” James said. “Wait? Are you sure? I don’t mind taking you back home. It’s a short drive.“ James tossed back the rest of his drink. “Please, I need it. Gotta clear my head a bit. The cold air will do me some good.“ Like clockwork, a long brunette woman, mid-20s maybe, walked up and offered to buy them a drink. James didn’t pay her much mind, only gesturing towards Sergio as he grabbed his jacket off the chair and bundled up. The woman looked happy, like Sergio was the one she wanted all along. “I’ll let you know when I make it.” Sergio, being the affectionate guy that he is, gave James a bear hug. “Happy birthday man. Text me when you make it.“ You know he couldn’t talk James out of something he clearly was set out to do. Plus, Sergio had a side job of cleaning roads, the sidewalks looked good enough to walk. He prayed James made it. A mile walk in 8 inches? More power to him.
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Right as he exited the pub and began to descend the stairs, “The Bad Thing” by Arctic Monkeys began to play. He smiled as he sighed, his breath visible. He loved this song, but he couldn’t enjoy it like he used to. But he whistled it on the way home. A mile walk didn’t sound so bad at first, but he found himself growing more frustrated the more he walked. After looking down into a frozen pond near a dilapidated industrial building (1/4 of a mile into his journey), he realized he wasn’t even angry at the weather or his stupid decision to walk in it. He knew if he had accepted a ride back from Sergio, he’d be trying to kill time on the way. He was angry with his wife. She barely said anything to him that day. He spent most of the afternoon in the garage, fixing things until Sergio offered a ride along with errands, before hitting up the pub. He didn’t expect her to jump all over him and wake him up to bed-in-breakfast wearing lingerie but at least a “Happy Birthday” would’ve been nice.
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He kept his hands in his coat pocket as he carried on. Cold air filled his nostrils as he huffed and puffed. The whiskey and disappointment keeping him warm and his thoughts kept his body on autopilot through it all. In no time he saw the neighborhood of cottage homes perched on a hill. The cars covered in a blanket of snow. 11pm on a Thursday night, the neighborhood looked like an abandoned city. So quiet, white, and now the wind beginning to howl. He was ten minutes away now from his front door, but he made it fifteen.
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His face felt hot, his hands still cold, as he stood outside the door. He could hear soft music playing behind the closed door. It was the vinyl record player. What started out as a “let’s see what’s on these, they’re only £1.59“ , became a beloved thing. It was just nice to have something on in the background during these quiet moments of housework and reading the paper. For dramatic effect, and for the sake of doing so because he felt like it; he reignited his frustration towards her. Wanting to give her the cold shoulder, but also a piece of his mind. He kicked the snow off his boots before entering. He had sent a text ten minutes prior to Sergio, who hasn’t yet responded. It didn’t matter, he wasn’t the one walking in 7°C with howling wind and heavy steel toe boots.
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A gust of aromas filled his nostrils along with the warm air of the home. He saw her, standing at the sink with her forearms deep in the dish water, seemingly smiling to herself. He smelled her perfume from afar and felt himself cooling off. Just the sight of her, the very dim light in the living room and the fireplace going; had him defeated. He couldn’t stay mad. He couldn’t even pretend. Watching her in her own world, despite the turmoil that was knee-deep surrounding the both of them. No matter how he acted, she never failed at doing things for him. The bare minimum, but it was still more than he deserved.
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He stared at her as he shut the door, just standing there. Nothing. No reaction from her, as she began to fish the dishes from the soapy water and placing them on the side with just cold water. Something her aunt always did. He removed his jacket and hung it on the coat rack, before taking a seat on the stool beside it. He exhaled as he leaned back, resting against the wall. The house felt hot, almost like a sauna. But it was better than freezing like the other week when dealing with that broken window. She knew he was there, and he knew that she knew; but neither cared to acknowledged the other first. Something in him was building. He thought anger, but really it was… disappointment. Or maybe regret.
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“You didn’t tell me happy birthday today.” His voice, soft with dejection. His voice is low, but it didn’t go unheard. The clattering of the dishes ceased and her head spun around to meet his gaze. Her eyes were low with dark circles forming ever so slightly, and wine-kissed cheeks that kept her cozy during this bitter winter. She turned her attention to the calendar, still on November, despite it being nearly January. She usually stayed on top of that. She wiped her hands on a dish rag and made her way over to him. She looked like a kid in trouble the closer she got to him. He inhaled, pressing himself against the wall harder. “I’m sorry honey,…”her voice unfamiliar to him. She stood between his legs and hugged him tight, his face buried against her bosom. “…time slipped by so fast I didn’t realize it.” She said, holding him tight the entire time. She let go of his head briefly and leaned down and kissed him on the lips, hard. He sat there, finally exhaling, unaware how to feel. “Happy birthday.” She stood back, giving him space, which he clearly needed. He stared up at her, feeling his back begin to slouch. “Um…“ he stood up as he wiped his palm on the side of his jeans. “…It’s okay. I’m going to go shower…I…” they stared at one another before he walked away and down the home to the master bedroom. She watched him disappear over threshold before returning to the dishes.
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He stayed in the shower longer than expected but he came out to a text:
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L💗: Lasagna is reheated if you want some.
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He did actually, even though the text was 20 minutes old at this point. He could tell that’s what it was when he had first arrived, that combination of herbs rung a familiar bell.. He made himself a plate and took it to his study, where he spent the rest of what remained of the night. He checked emails, play computer games, and sipped from the bottle of whiskey he had left on the small bar in the corner. Then he was hungry again. It was now 1am before he exited his study. He was feeling antsy after just reading an email from his boss that said office would be closed until Tuesday afternoon. The room was feeling too small for him now. He dreaded spending practically a week in his God-forsaken house, but luckily it was big enough, where they technically didn’t have to be in the same room. Besides, Luvina have been falling asleep on the couch while watching tv. It was obviously planned, considering she would take her blanket and pillows and would be no more than fifteen minutes into an infomercial before drifting. He knew tonight she was in the bedroom (at least for now, since he currently wasn’t) because he could hear light singing and what sounded like, water splashing. The bedroom door was cracked, but it was dark inside the room. The TV on mute and the bathroom light creeping from under the door. “Why isn’t she sleep yet.” He thought to himself, although he should have been in bed by now as well. He carried on down the hall towards the kitchen, something filling his nostrils yet again. It was sweet this time. When he got in the kitchen, there was a cake on the counter. Round and covered in blue icing, that you could see wasn’t quite mixed up. Maybe she was low on blue food colouring or did it in a hurry and didn’t mix it well. Or maybe that was the goal since the icing seemed to be smoothed on in waves.
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“Happy B-Day J”
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was in black gel icing. He stared at the cake, feeling foolish from earlier. He grabbed the plate, dragging it over to him, before reaching into the drawer beside him and grabbing a fork.
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Luvina had her Nook propped up on her bathtub tray with a quarter of port wine left in her 8 ounce balloon wine glass, that had her name in gold cursive. A gift from James‘s mother, who she adored so much. There was a knock at the door. “Come in.” She said, louder than expected. He walked in, instantly being hit by the humidity in the air as the jets in the tub kept the steam pushing upward like a diffuser. The smell of calendula and lemongrass in the air. He left the door open as he went to put the toilet lid down and sit. Annoyed but also curious, she stared at him waiting for something, anything. They were diagonal from each other, staring at one another like a western showdown. He relaxed back with one leg splayed lazily to one side. “Luvina…” he said, his tongue rubbing against his gum to get the butter cream icing that was trying to escape on the side of his jaw. “…that’s too nice of a name for you.” His voice soft with spitefulness. Luvina let out one of those half-gasp-half-chuckles people do when they’re appalled, but don’t know if you’re joking. He said nothing more, and his head resting against his hand.
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“Wow. You’re really upset with me I forgot your birthday?“ He didn’t speak for a moment. “How could you?“ His voice lower. She didn’t speak. “But then again… maybe you didn’t.“ He leaned forward with his forearms on his knees, his eyes showing how sloshed he was. “Don’t overthink it…” she reached for the wine glass. “… I forgot. That’s it and that’s all. It’s a different day now.“ She sipped, her cheeks kissed with a deeper plum color. “You ruined my day, you know that?“ He never took his eyes off her, although she kept hers on her Nook. “Okay so… what’s that? One to seven? I gotta catch up.” “Everything is a joke to you.” “It wasn’t before, but it is now. I’m not going to sit here and let you make me feel bad for forgetting your stupid birthday.“ “Stupid! It’s so stupid, but you baked me a cake. Huh darling?“ “And you ate it correct?“ He didn’t speak. “Yes…“ She answered for him. “… yes, you did. I forgot to tell you happy birthday. It made you feel sad. I baked you a cake to make up for it. And you ate the fucking cake. Now…what’s the problem?” He stayed silent. So she went back to reading.
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“Why do you hate me so much?“ James said, rubbing his damp palms together. She looked over at him, her eyebrows arching a bit, seemingly confused. “Yes you do.” He answered for her, as she did for him just moments before. “I hate you?“ She propped her forearm on the rim of the tub, water and suds rushing down the side and onto the towel below. “Yes, you do.“ “Hm…” she tapped her index finger on her chin and looked at the ceiling. “… what could I possibly hate you for?“ She then looked at him, hoping for an answer. His fingers intertwined for a bit then released, cupping his knees. They stared at one another, one waiting for the other to speak. Luvina closed her Nook, pushing the tray forward and stood. She picked up the glass and down the rest of her wine as suds ran down her skin, the way they did on the side of the porcelain. She climbed out and walked over to him, standing in front of the shower and faced him.
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“I’m not sure what you’re angry at. Or what you’re afraid of. But you have to understand that every decision you made, has brought you here. No one made you do anything you didn’t want to do.” She grabbed his chin, bringing his attention up to her. Her breasts, and the steam radiating off them, now at eye-level. “ Regardless of where I go, you’re going to be okay. You’re going to be better than okay because no one has hurt you in this situation. And that’s something you’re going to have to live with.“ She used the other hand to run through his hair as she kissed his forehead. Her voice was oddly reassuring.
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He felt like he was in a fever drink. He wasn’t sure if she was being genuinely supportive or condescending but considering the circumstances, most likely the ladder.
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She let go of his chin, his head slowly dropping to face the suds running down between her toes. Red French tips and the gold anklet he got her three anniversaries ago. It always looks so good against her skin, especially in the summertime. Anytime she had her feet out, to be honest. He could see her skin had a reddish hue if you looked closely, which makes sense when you could see little steam coming off her flesh anytime she exited a bath or shower. And she smells so, so good. He kept his head down and his eyes closed to take it all in. His fingertips dug into his knees, then wrapping his forearms around her damp waist, laying his head against her belly; her belly ring feeling a little cool against the side of his ear. He gave one deep sigh before speaking. She didn’t seem hesitant or even bothered by this form of affection since she’s been hesitant and put off in the past few weeks.
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“ I would like to fuck you one last time.” His eyes were now open, hooded, as he could see part of the bed from the open bathroom door. Her eyes darted left and right before shrugging and saying, “okay”. In one swift moment, he stood up, his forearms now wrapped under her derrière; as he carried her off to the bedroom.
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-End-
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