Decisions

She nodded in acknowledgment and he went back to his seat.

"I hadn't planned it..." he started, looking right at her. "It wasn't my intention to turn your parents against you." His voice was nothing if not sincere. "I don't even know how they found out, but they did... and soon after, I received a call from them." He smiled at the memory. His gaze has drifted towards the design on the mahogany table. "I had always thought that your mom and dad... didn't consider me as good enough for their elder daughter." His smile widened. "That one phone call proved me so wrong; they didn't even raise their voices once at me and just apologised 'on behalf of their stupid girl'."

He smiled to himself at the part disbelieving and part angry look on her face. "I was even more shocked when they told me they'd support me with whatever decision I'd make," he added with a grin. A part of him wondered, did his in-law take 'divorce' into account, when they had said that? Did they think he'd try everything short of divorcing their daughter? Did they think he would accept her decision quietly? Were they under the presumption that he would bend over for their daughter, just so he could stay close to the money?

If that was the case, then they were in for a big surprise.

She couldn't believe it. When her parents had caught wind of the whole fiasco, they hadn't been pleased. They had told her to clean the mess she had created, or forget them.

She still kept in contact with them, but they were always distant. Obviously, that only seemed to motivate her actions and she continued to see other men, just to spite her judgmental family.

Now though, she realised how blind she had been. She realised how much she had hurt her husband; the man who had loved her more than anything in the world.

He still did not make eye contact with her. "I... stopped making love to you; I just couldn't... not after what you did to me." Countless emotions swirled around in his eyes. "I felt disgusted by your touch. I... I wanted to strangle you... and watch the life fade away from your eyes, whenever you smiled at me." His face was blank, hard. "The only joy I'd feel from time to time, would be when I'd see your anger... your despair... and your hatred for me, as your friends and family would leave you, one by one."

He looked at her with a cold glare, "You'd forbid me from fucking your girlfriends and I'd oblige, knowing the damage had already been done. Instead, I'd set my sights on the women from your social club. So on and so forth, it turned into a game for me," he said with a sneer. "I realised it too late... in my thirst for revenge, I had become the kind of person I had hated. I had shown a blatant disregard for our marriage vows... I had stooped to your level... and I felt like trash," he said with a bitter smile.

His rage and hurt had blinded him. They had forced him to become someone he wasn't. Her actions had changed him.

"I still wasn't done; it still wasn't enough," he said in a sharp voice. "I decided to give your... boyfriends, a taste of their own medicine," he spat. "As they were fucking my wife, I was fucking up their lives." He had done just that. He started with Jean. He slept with his wife and Jean had tried to confront him. He had given the piece of shit a few broken ribs, but none had made him feel any better. The damage had been done.

It wasn't long before he received a wake-up call, in the form of the wife of Lydia's newest paramour. He slept with the woman as a payback, but had been more than surprised when she proclaimed her love for him after a few meetings.

He realised she wasn't in love. That it was just some fleeting infatuation. He felt no better than his backstabbing bitch of a wife and her lovers; he had been toying with people's feelings for his own selfish and warped desires. This was all so fucked up, he thought.

Lydia looked down in shame. She knew it was she who had caused such a drastic change in him. She had thought that she was the one suffering. In truth, he was suffering a lot more than she was.

"I was prepared to divorce you," he began, looking at her, "I was prepared to end this charade of a marriage." He frowned. "But after I heard your side last night, I just didn't know what to do." He tore his gaze away from her and opted to stare at the open palms of his hands on the table. "I saw a side of you I had never known. A part of me went out to you. A part of me thought, maybe... maybe we could put all of this behind us and start again. That maybe... I could realise my dream of having a couple of kids with you and grow old together in this very house." His eyes were lidded. They held sadness and regret.

"We can!" she shouted at him, with tears in her eyes. "I'll give you as many kids as you want, honey! We can grow old together, here! I'll be the wife you want!" She nodded happily. "Just forgive me! Just trust me once again! One last time..." she begged.

He smiled sadly at her. "...be the wife I want? You still don't get it, do you?" Frowning, he continued, "I don't want a slave to cater to my whims and desires. I want the girl I'd fallen in love with." He shook his head in regret. "I don't think that's possible now..."

She looked at him with wide eyes as his words settled within her.

He smiled sadly. "I trusted you the first time... and look where it has gotten us..." He looked at her. "Frankly, I don't know... I don't know if I have the strength to trust in you. I don't want you to turn into someone you're not, just because you want us to stay together... I... loved you for you."

He laughed, all of a sudden. "It's hilarious; a part of me still loves you after all you've done to me... after what you've turned me into." He stopped, only to regard her with a sad, bittersweet smile. "You and I... we're so fucked up... and maybe we belong together."

She winced at his words, but looked on in hope, nonetheless.

"Then again, maybe, we don't." He squashed her hopes, just like that. He looked at her and asked, "Tell me, Lydia. How did you know that I had been with your sister last night?"

She became deathly quiet. Amidst their current predicament, she had almost forgotten about that.

Almost.

"I... saw you and Lily... at the nightclub you were at," she added in a small, hesitant voice. Her eyes wouldn't meet his. "I was there... with a date."

"Was there a chance, you'd have taken him home and fucked him, if you hadn't seen me with your little sister?"

She was ashamed to admit it, "Probably..."

"Probably?"

She wanted to disappear. The guilt and shame was enough to drown her. "Definitely." She was looking down, as if she was a small child being reprimanded for causing mischief.

"Did you...?"

"No," She replied with steel in her voice. While doing so, she turned to look at him, right in the eye. "When I saw you with Lily, I hurried back home. Seeing you... with my baby sister, of all people, just... broke me."

He did not say anything. Instead, he just kept staring at her with an unreadable expression, for what seemed to be the longest minute of her life.

Finally, he spoke, "I had sex with her, you know?" His voice wasn't gloating. It felt... empty. His eyes seemed to hold hers as prisoners; she couldn't look away from him, even if she wanted to.

"Yes." She nodded with a frown while looking at him. Her eyes spoke of her pain. "I could... see it on your face, when you came back home."

He didn't say anything. He had to admit, as much as he had hated it, his body had enjoyed it.

"Why..." She shook her head. "No... I know why. I just need to ask, how long has it been going on... with you and Lily."

"That had been our first time together," he admitted. "The first time... we slept together."

It had been the first time they had sex, but it hadn't been the first time they went out together, He received a call from his sister-in-law out of the blue, and she wanted to meet him. At her vehement insistence, he had agreed. He knew that there was something more to the call when she tried to get him into bed. He refused that first time, but when he saw Lydia with her "date," resistance was futile, and he soon found himself balls deep in his sister-in-law.

"Does it hurt?"

"Yes," his wife replied in a small voice.

"Does it hurt, knowing that your husband hates you so much?"

She choked, "Yes."

"Does it hurt, knowing that I can't stand the sight of you? That, whenever I look at you, I see a cheap slut?"

Still facing towards him, she nodded, "Yes."

"Does it hurt, knowing that I can't ever trust you the way I did before? Knowing I'll leave you?"

She fought back tears, but in a resolute voice, replied, "More than I can bear."

He grabbed the divorce papers that lay on the table, forgotten, and slid them towards her. "Then, free the both of us from this living hell." At her horrified, pained expression, he continued. "You can make this right; sign these and get rid of me."

"Steve, please! I don't want you to leave," she cried, "I love you!"

He exhaled. "Empty words, Lydia. Empty words." Standing up, he started walking towards the door. "I expect you to sign those by tomorrow." He couldn't stay there for another moment. She was making it all the more difficult for him.

Before he was out the door, he felt someone grab his hand. He sighed. "Stop this, Lydia. It's over," he said without looking back.

"Don't do this, honey. I'll die without you," she spoke in a small, fearful voice. "Please... just... forgive me."

He couldn't keep his calm anymore. In a flash, he had kicked the door shut and pinned her to the wall. His eyes were maelstroms of fury.

"Forgive you?" he shouted in her face. "Believe me, Lydia. I'd have to be a saint to forgive you for everything you've put me through... and I'm no fucking saint." The anger in his eyes was being replaced by pain as he spoke.

She felt pain from being shoved like that; it was nothing compared to what she felt looking into his eyes.

He wasn't done. "Whenever I look into your eyes, all I see is a lying, self-centred bitch! When I look at your lips, I remember those were the same lips that were wrapped around Jean and many other men's cocks! That smile! That smile reminds of the utter contempt and disrespect you hold for me, your own husband!" This time, he didn't turn away from her when he felt himself tear up. He let her see his hurt. He let her know how much she had hurt him. "Tell me, how can I forgive you after you brutally murdered my love for you..." he whispered as tears fell freely from his eyes.

He let her go. His anger had left him. He couldn't stay enraged at her. Not anymore.

He turned his back towards her and started for the door. He was more than surprised when he found himself pinned to the wall, just like he had done to her a few moments ago. This was no small feat for her.

Too bad for him, she wasn't going down without a fight.

"So, you don't feel any love for me?" she whispered in a hoarse voice. She had him between herself and the wall. Her golden bangs shadowed her eyes and she wouldn't look at him. Her form trembled. "Then, what do you call last night and this morning? Pity?" She tilted her neck upwards to look at him. Her eyes held a look of desperation and her face, a look of anguish. "Look into my eyes and tell me you don't love me."

He wouldn't; or couldn't?

She held his face in her hands. Instinctively, she caressed his smooth, shaven skin. "I made a mistake... no, I sinned... and you punished me for it," she said in a small voice. "I've hurt you... and I don't expect you to forgive me... but... don't stop loving me... please." Her voice quivered with unchecked emotions.

His eyes were looking away from her. He felt his resolve crumble with every word she spoke and every tear she shed.

"I didn't tell you something, last night," she said, "You told me how I'd given you the strength you lacked? How my smile would provide you with courage?" She smiled. "It was the same for me." Without missing a beat, she continued. "I was used to receiving looks of jealousy and hate from women. I couldn't care less about the lustful stares I'd get from men; they all just saw what they wanted to see. Then..." She hesitated, "You came into my life. You were different from everyone else. You didn't lust after me and always helped me without any ulterior motive." Her smile widened as she recalled the past. "Now that I see it, you treated me like everyone else. Even when I did catch you staring at me occasionally, it wasn't what I thought; your eyes would hold a look of fascination... as if you were intrigued by me." A blush crept to her cheeks. "You were so different from everyone else... and you intrigued me. I accepted to go out on a date with you, just so I could understand you. It wasn't long before I realised I was already in love with you."

He turned to look directly at her. His eyes spoke of his surprise and as he peered into hers, he knew she was telling the truth. He didn't say anything. He wanted to hear her confession.

Her eyes only held her love for him. She spoke in a low tone. "Soon, another realisation had set in; I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, in your loving arms. I wanted us to have lots of kids and I wanted to grow old with you, knowing that you were my rock." The love in her eyes was overshadowed by fear and regret. "I'm not so sure now... I've... I've hurt you so much and I don't know if I deserve that happiness... if I deserve you," she continued in a firm voice. "You deserve better than this... than me. I wouldn't hold it against you if... if you decide to leave me."

He remained silent. His face wouldn't betray his thoughts. His eyes wouldn't leave hers.

All of it was unbearable for her. The silent torture was akin to a snake coiled around her heart and tightening its grip.

At her wordless plea, he spoke.

The corners of his lips tilted upward. "Maybe I deserve to be hurt, after all," he whispered to himself. The look in his eyes turned hard and the small smile vanished, as if it was never even there. "I... don't know if I should even give you another chance; you seem to have a knack for fooling me." His voice didn't have an ounce of anger, pain or any other emotion. He seemed to be talking more to himself than to her. "A part of me says, you'll hurt me again if I forgive you. I would be justified in leaving you; it would be the easier thing to do." He was silent for a moment; his eyes didn't leave her. His gaze was searching her for something.

She was hurt at his words, but she realised, her actions had hurt him more. He had the right to be sceptical.

"Too bad for you," he said in a slow voice. "I always believed that marriage is a lifetime's worth of effort; there will always be minor bumps along the road, but that doesn't mean we should stop the journey altogether." He smiled at her. "Seems that you'll be stuck with mister self-righteous for a while."

She just stood there as he spoke. Then, his words set in.

With a shriek, she pushed him harder at the wall and mashed her own body to his. Her arms snaked around his neck.

With a small groan he held her with his hands on her cute little butt. He tried to ask if she was trying to put him through the wall, but he was being assaulted with wet little kisses all over his face.

She looked at him with a bright smile that threatened to split her face. "Thank you..." she said in a small, loving voice.

He didn't say anything; he just wiped off her tears with a smile of his own. He looked in her eyes, full of love and hope. "After last night, I knew, I had to leave you; it was necessary for both of us." At her questioning look, he continued, "I wanted you to support yourself, so you could develop some self-esteem; you haven't had to work a single day in your life. That and how everyone else perceived you, had given birth to low self-esteem and an inferiority complex in you." He could see in her eyes, she was beginning to understand it. "I wanted a divorce to get away from these painful memories and start a new life." His gaze roamed over the house.

He smiled to himself, "As you can see, things didn't go as planned; they never do." He turned to look at the door as he spoke, "I guess... I part of me knew, it would be easy to bury this life after I walked out of that door, but I would always regret..." his gaze captured hers, "...not giving you..." shaking his head, he corrected himself. "No... not giving us a last chance."

She hugged him tenderly. She had always felt a sense of comfort unlike any other, as she'd lay her head on his chest and hear his steady heartbeat.

"Just do me a favour..." he said in a low voice. "If you plan to hurt me again, just shoot me."

She just craned her neck and kissed him on the lips. "I'll be coming right behind you, if that ever happens."

He smiled and buried his nose in her hair. Oh, how he loved the flowery smell of her blond curls.

-----

I had initially decided to end it a divorce, while portraying as much emotions as I could. I know I started it that way.

Funny how I began doubting my own decision as I wrote more of this. I was debating myself on whether I wanted it to end on a note of separation and irreparable relations, or did I want a "happy ending".

It was genuinely frustrating and I wanted to finish this story soon, and somehow, not rush it.

I felt as if it wasn't even my story. As if I wasn't even the author, but a spectator and these two were telling their own story.

As a person, I didn't want this story to end in a bitter way, but as a storyteller? That was a different matter.

It's easy to shut yourself away from being hurt again. It's easy to leave everything of your hurtful past behind you and not look back, just to save yourself from being hurt again.

Re-establishing the trust and taking a leap of faith after you've been burned not once, but twice, requires a lot of courage and strength. Everyone has those traits within them, but only a gifted few can find them.

It makes me jealous.

In the end, I let the person win. There's always a next time, especially, for a B.T.B.

I guess, this is a B.T.B., in a way. It's a matter of perspective.