Atterbury
It was a bleak and rainy Tuesday afternoon. Thunder boomed through the distant sky and the streets of New Kingston were empty, only a lone mongrel huddling beneath an old piece of zinc outside the small hotel on Hope Road. In the distance, lightning flashed. In the small, cool hotel room, Lisa and Dominic held on to each other.
It had been nearly two weeks since they were able to sneak away for an afternoon. His mouth found her's as they stumbled towards the bed, her heels catching in the cheap, brown rug, his hands tightening reflexively around her waist, their breathing coming in short gasps. His teeth grazed her lower lip and she giggled, feeling his mouth curve against her's in such a wonderfully familiar way, the stubble on his jaw tickling her cheeks. He always kissed her in such a possessive way, his hands coming up to frame her face, then sliding to the back of her neck and grasping her hair, holding her to him, as if he owned her, as if she weren't married to another man.
She pushed thoughts of her husband to the back of her mind and let herself fall to the bed, pulling him down with her, loving the feel of his weight upon her, revelling in the musky, crisp smell of him, the intense heat in his eyes, the way he murmured her name.
She tried to ignore the guilty feeling that fluttered within her stomach. No one knew where she was or what she was doing and, even if they did, they would certainly understand.
There was no love left in Lisa and Sean's six-year marriage and it was obvious to anyone who paid attention. At 17 she had met him at a friend's party. Two months later she was pregnant after a night of clumsy passion at his house, in his parents' bedroom no less and they had married right after their high school graduation, mostly to avoid the wrath of her high-profile parents. The wedding took place in the office of her uncle, who was a justice of the peace and she had worn a white dress, only at the behest of her mother.
Even the deepest, truest love can struggle and falter underneath the demands of marriage, bills, a newborn, and it wasn't long before the brief, youthful desire they had shared quickly soured and became mutual dislike. Sean resented the loss of his freedom and made a point of being as absent as possible. When he wasn't at work, he was out with his friends at clubs and parties, dancing and flirting with girls as if his wife and daughter didn't exist at all. Lisa punished him by ignoring him during the few times when he was around.
When she met tall, broad-shouldered Dominic at a client meeting, she saw the perfect opportunity to get back at her husband for the sly, hushed whispers among her co-workers and friends. Dominic was sexy, smart and unbelievably good-looking. They spent several meetings throwing surreptitious glances at each other, until one night they found themselves alone in his office. She had waited, browsing unseeingly through the public-relations proposal she had brought with her, half-hoping he would kiss her, half-afraid of what her response would be. He had surprised her by taking her to see a movie instead. Afterward, as they said their goodbyes in the parking lot, he casually drew her hand to his lips.
And now here she was, cheating on her husband with this beautiful, dynamic man, whom she tried to see as a careless fling, ignoring the pang of loss she felt every time she left the small room in which they met at least twice a week.
After six years, the mere thought of stepping into the same house where Sean lived left a bitter taste in her mouth. But she couldn't bring herself to leave him, couldn't stand the thought of what people would say, the smirking sympathetic glances, the embarrassment it would cause her parents. Her only happiness was her daughter.
As Brianna ran through her mind, she felt a pang of guilt once again and Dominic lifted his head from kissing her neck.
"What's wrong?" he asked. She hated that he could sense her change of mood so easily.
She fingered the buttons on his open shirt. "Nothing at all," she murmured, silkily pressing herself against him. He shot her a sceptical look and sat up, holding her hands away from him. "You feel bad about being here with me?" he asked.
"No," she replied, "I feel bad that you wasting time asking me questions when you know we only have a couple of hours."
Although he didn't look entirely convinced, Dominic lowered himself to her once more and pressed his lips to the base of her throat. She sighed in relief and closed her eyes as his hands began to make their way over her body. She forgot all of it, Sean's sneering smile as they passed each other each morning, the overpowering smell of his cologne as he got ready to go out each night, the constant bare space on the other side of the double bed in her bedroom. All of it faded beneath Dominic's hands.
Two hours later, they lay beside each other on the bright floral bedspread. Dominic was stretched on his right side, one arm propping his head, his rich, brown eyes watching her. Lisa shifted uncomfortably. She knew what was coming.
Trying to distract herself, she lit a cigarette and gazed at her toes. Her beige-tinged toenails were peeking from beneath the sheets. "I need a pedicure," she said idly.
Dominic continued gazing at her. She took another drag of the cigarette, savouring the sweet taste, dreading the rest of the afternoon.
"You don't have to go home right away," he said. She watched him carefully from under heavily shadowed eyelids. "What, you don't get enough yet?"
He reached out and took the cigarette from her hand, crushing it in the ashtray on the nightstand next to him. She sighed heavily as he sat up and drew closer. "No, I haven't gotten enough yet," he said.
She was silent for a minute.
"I don't want to have this conversation again," she said finally, still staring at her feet.
Dominic looked at her for a moment longer and she refused to turn her gaze to him.
"I cyan keep wasting my time, Lisa," he said quietly. She nodded, her face a mask of bland agreement. She should have known it was coming. She watched him get dressed, her face betraying nothing of what she felt, the thin sheet clutched between her fists, a painful knot at the back of her throat.
He paused at the door. "Call me if you change your mind. Or text me, even." There was a slightly pleading note in his voice.
She gave a short laugh. "I don't even know how to send a text."
He regarded her with troubled eyes and left without another word. Lisa lit another cigarette and wiped a hand across her eyes.
That night Lisa allowed her daughter to have a hot dog and French fries for dinner. She watched TV with Brianna, chased her into the bathroom, drew her a bubble bath and allowed her to play in the tub for 20 minutes longer than she usually did. She read her daughter four stories, gave her several hugs and kisses and tucked her in.
After cleaning up the kitchen, she sat in the living room and listened to the big empty house. Sean most likely wouldn't show up until 5 a.m., stumbling toward his room, smelling like rum and other women. She sat at the kitchen table, not sure what to do with herself. The large clock in the living room ticked loudly.
The night stretched long and endless before her.
Shortly after midnight, somewhere across town, Dominic's phone vibrated and gave two short beeps. He was instantly awake, reaching for the nightstand. The tiny envelope on the screen blinked and he smiled in the dark.
He didn't need to read it to know.