Love Thy Enemy

I handed her the drink and sat in a equally plush arm chair. Her eyes widened in surprise as she sipped at her drink. "How did you know I like scotch? I didn't think you noticed that much about me."

Again, I shrugged. "Why don't you tell me why you're here, Amber. I'd hate for you to waste your time anymore than you need to."

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why she was here, so far from home, in a foreign country, but I wanted to hear it. I wanted to hear her beg for forgiveness on behalf of her friend; my soon to be ex-wife. I wanted her to humble herself. It was small enough pay back, in fact, I decided on the spot it would be the beginning of a long and very painful journey for both Shela and Amber.

She sipped at her drink a bit more, then set it down. She tossed her long auburn hair over her shoulders, and turned to face me.

"You must know I'm here for Shela's sake. She's been wanting to talk to you, but you've not made it easy. She tried to get time off from work to come herself, but she was denied. And she needs her job –now that you've financially cut her off. I had some vacation time due me and I've always wanted to see Paris. So here I am. Killing two birds with one stone. So to speak" Her smile was razor thin as she said that.

I sat, not thinking or responding, just listening. I didn't like Amber, but she was here, and as much as I hated Shela, I decided I would listen quietly then have her leave so she could enjoy her vacation and I could get back to work.

Amber leaned forward, picked up her drink and took another sip.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" she asked in a curious tone.

I simply looked at her, gesturing for her to continue.

Sighing, Amber set her drink down and looked around the office. Then she stood and walked to one of the large plate glass windows that walled one side of the office.

"Wow. Nice office you have here. I think it's bigger than my entire apartment. And, it has a great view! With the river Seine in the distance! Really, Joe, what did you have to do to rate such treatment?"

I felt my anger rising. I knew she was trying to coax a response from me. But, I kept my cool and steered the conversation back into focus.

"Amber, I don't have much time. I have a lot of work to do before I can go home tonight. So just get to the point of your visit."

"Damn! Even with your fancy clothes, working in a fancy office, in a fancy city, you're still an asshole!" she declared in a hateful tone.

I shrugged again.

"Alright! Damn you! I don't know what Shela sees in you, but she sent me here to ask if you'd talk to her. She realizes she made a huge mistake. She wants to save her marriage. But, she can't do it if you won't talk to her. She's in limbo. She's hurting badly. She's..."

I cut her off before she could say anything else.

"Listen you fucking bitch! I don't give a flying fuck if Shela is hurting! She cheated on ME! I didn't cheat on her! Do you understand that, you pathetic cunt? I don't need to talk to Shela because there is nothing to save! She killed any chance of that when she fucked her boy toy and made certain I knew about it! I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. Now get the fuck out! Or I'll call security and have you charged with breaking and entering, along with trespassing!"

I hadn't meant to explode. But, with all the shit Amber was flinging at me, I found myself in the throes of a rage I thought had been tempered with geography and the time thats' passed. I guess I was wrong.

The walls of my office had absorbed most of my yell, yet, they seemed to echo in my head after I finished. Amber stood stunned, her mouth open in shock at my violent verbal outburst. That didn't last long as anger filled her eyes. She began a retort, but before she could utter another lying word, I said, in a lower volume and a calmer voice, "Just leave, Amber. I meant what I said. I will call security and have you escorted off the premises." As I spoke, I stood and walked toward my desk, reaching for the phone.

She snapped her mouth shut, and glared hotly at me, then spun on her heels, grabbed her purse off the end table and began to walk out. Right before she reached the door, she stopped. I was getting ready to pick up the handset when she said something. I wasn't quiet sure I'd heard what she'd said. In fact, it sounded so unlike Amber, that I had to ask her to repeat herself.

With her back still to me, she said it again only slightly louder.

"I'm sorry."

Now it was my turn to be stunned! Amber saying she was sorry was an earth shattering event and deserved a closer examination.

"Okay, I'll bite. What are you sorry for, bitch?"

Turning towards me, she lowered her head.

"It's all my fault! I'm sorry! Please! I'm sorry!" At that, Amber began to cry! In all my years of knowing Amber I'd never heard of her crying and certainly never seen her cry. For the second time in the space of a few seconds, I was stunned.

"What are you talking about? What is your fault?"

"It's my fault for what Shela did to you. I was wrong. Please! It's not Shela's fault. It's mine!"

Amber wrong!?! What the fuck had she been smoking? I was tempted to go sniff her glass to see if somehow the scotch was spiked. Amber never admitted to being wrong. Never. It was the only character trait that made Amber, well...Amber. So who was this woman who stood sobbing in front of me. It sure wasn't the Amber I hated to know and loved to hate.

"I've no idea what shit you're spouting about now. But, whatever it is, it isn't going to work. Shela did what she did and that's all there is to it. If you urged her to cheat then you really better leave before I do something to you we will both regret!" I was shouting again.

Amber simply nodded as her sobs became louder and heavier. She turned to leave when the spiked heel of one of her shoe's caught in the that damned loose throw rug, she gave out a loud scream of surprise and fear as she was pulled suddenly to the side, and thrown down atop the glass table next to the door.

The sound of shattering glass reached my ears about the same time I realized Amber had fallen.

I should have had that fucking throw rug removed. But, after that first week I'd gotten used to walking on it and never had another near spill. And for some reason, I sometimes liked to stare at it, becoming mesmerized, while I sat at my desk.

I stared in disbelief for a never ending instant of time before I reacted.

Initially, and by reflex, I ran to catch her, but it was all over but for the bleeding. Amber looked like she was bleeding out on my office floor, there was so much blood. I attempted to render first aid as best as I could. Her left arm had a long nasty looking gash that was spraying blood everywhere. She lay in a heap on the floor, glass all about her, unmoving. For a moment I thought Amber was dead, and for even a briefer moment, I felt extreme satisfaction. However, I'm not a monster, so after that very brief emotional flash, feelings of concern arose, but I noticed the pulse in her neck beating under the skin and I was filled with relief. Yes, I hated the bitch, but I didn't wish death upon her. Not even on Shela. That would be too easy. I wanted them both to have long long lives and to suffer every day of their miserable lives.

Amber was in shock, but she began to stir, then frantically tried to sit up, but I forced her back down.

"Lay still, you silly bitch!" I yelled at her.

Looking around for something to use as a tourniquet I saw nothing but my tie as it dangled down in front of me. Wincing at what I was about to do to it, I loosened it and without removing the knot, I widened the loop until it slipped over my head. I quickly slipped it up on Amber's arm, above the large cut, tightening it until the spray was reduced to nothing but a oozing trickle. Amber's facial complexion was extremely pale, almost grayish white.

Her eyes were closed and her face had set into a tight lipped grimace of pain. Her long hair, until a few seconds ago, shining with a healthy luster, was now matted with her blood. Amber's body lay twitching, whether from pain or shock, I couldn't tell. I turned around looking for anything to use as a pressure bandage. I saw nothing within easy reach and I wasn't about to let go of my tie to go find a towel. Amber had lost too much blood already, and I feared any further loss would kill her immediately. I saw that Amber had worn a slip under a fashionable knee length skirt. She must be going French, since I didn't know of any American women that still wore a slip under their dresses and skirts. Although a slip wasn't made from the most ideal material to staunch a bleeding wound, it was something.

I managed to hold the tie securely enough one-handed while I pulled on her slip. By this time, Amber had gone into unconsciousness, she was no longer fighting me. I kept yanking on it until it was past her knees. It wasn't much easier to ease it past her feet but somehow I managed. Alternating my hands, I was able to remove my suit jacket and then my shirt, without releasing my hold on the tourniquet. Using her slip and my dress shirt I somehow made a fairly decent pressure bandage. Soon, I had the bleeding stopped. Amber was as pale as a ghost but still breathing, even if they were slow shallow breaths.

As soon as the bleeding stopped, I called 911, or in the EU's case, 112, on my cell phone. I also called building security to notify them of the arrival of my expected guests.

Without a knock, my door burst open a few minutes later and several men and women in the uniforms of both medical emergency responders and police hustled in to take control. I explained as best as I could to the French emergency medical team what first aid I'd given, but they simply nodded, smiled, and pushed me aside. The police took me outside my office and began to question me. Although my French language skills had improved considerably, most of what I knew was related to French business terms, I wasn't conversant enough to explain to the police, as to what happened, in their language. Luckily, some of the police spoke English well enough they were able to understand me, and I them. I don't think they wholeheartedly believed my version of what happened, especially when they saw I had taken her slip off, but until they could speak to Amber, they couldn't charge me. Or, so I hoped.

While I'd answered questions, the EMTs had managed to stabilize Amber and had taken her out in a gurney. I asked what hospital they were taking her to, and they replied The American Hospital in Paris, which coincidentally is the nearest hospital to my office building.

About an hour after arriving, everyone left. My office was in shambles; discarded wrappers of medical supplies, pieces of broken glass, and much of the furniture had been shoved together to make a wide open space around where Amber had lain, and, of course, the blood. It coated one wall, some of the furniture, and a large area of the floor. My coat, shirt, and tie had been taking by the police, probably as evidence.

I had a change of clothing in the bathroom of my office, but I'd have to move things around to reach it, and I didn't feel like it. There wasn't much point in resuming my work, so I gathered all work related materials off my desk and left.

The walk home was no fun, as all I had on was a t-shirt and the temperature was very cool. I entered my home, shivering, and headed directly to the shower. That's when I noticed the cloying stickiness of my pants. My shoes were soaked with blood too, along with my socks. They were ruined. But, it didn't seem important. I didn't care that I had to throw away the shoes and clothing.

After showering I placed my bloodied clothing and foot wear into a large plastic bag, instead of throwing them away –in case the police wanted those as well-- I sat down to think things through. Normally, I'm not a pensive man when it comes to personal issues, but too much had happened in too short a time not to at least throw some serious thought at it.

It was near midnight when I reached two important decisions.

First thing, I would check on Amber in the morning, offering what help I could to her. I'm sure she wouldn't be able to sight see, much less travel home over the next few days. And, as I was sure she was limited in funds, I would help pay her hospital bill and aid in deferring the cost of her hotel room. Second thing, I might also contact Shela, and...Well, I'm not sure what would happen, but I'd listen to what she had to say. I did say I wasn't a monster. I was just a very pissed off man.

The following day, after making an appearance at the office, deflecting most questions about what had occurred, and calling in someone to come and clean up, I headed to the hospital.

I hate hospitals. I don't care if this one is in Paris, I still hated them. So in a less than chipper mood, I asked for Amber's room and walked to it. The room door was open, so I stood in the hallway looking in. Her eyes were closed and for the first time I saw her without make-up and I have to say, she was better looking without face paint than with it. She had a pleasingly wholesome look, and she also looked less like the she-devil she is and more like a sweet angel that she wasn't. Her auburn hair had been cleaned but it lay around her head on the pillow in a wild mass of unruliness.

Her injured arm was in one those fiber-plastic casts, while her other arm was strapped to a flat board and had two clear surgical tubes leading out from it, running to two hanging bags, also translucent, showing them partially filled with fluids. There were a couple of monitors next to the bed, with wires leading to Amber's gown covered chest and uninjured arm.

I was about to step back, to return later when she was awake, but I must have made some sound, or maybe it was that damnable sixth sense that women seem to have, but whatever it was, she opened her eyes and stared right at me. She made no sign that she was aware of my presence and I had this passing thought that she might have suffered too high a blood loss and her brain was now a vegetable. I'd read that some where and at the time, I didn't think it possible. If someone lost that much blood to damage the brain, they'd be dead anyway. Now, her blank look seemed to...

"What are you doing here?" Amber asked without expression.

"I came to check on you." I replied in the same deadpan way.

She continued to look at me, like a Alabama 'gator does when it's sizing up a meal. Her gaze was a cold detached stare that for some reason had me a bit nervous.

She finally turned her face and stared off into the distance.

"Now that you've seen me like this, have you had your fill of gloating?" Amber asked in the same tone as if she had been asking about the weather.

I shook my head in disbelief at her response. There I was, trying to make nice and she has to start up her shit.

"I'm not gloating, but I will leave if that's what you want." I said as I made to walk away. I still hadn't entered her room.

I got a couple of feet away before I heard her say, "No! Stay! I mean- Stay if you want to."

I stepped back into the doorway. "Are you sure? I don't want to upset you and I can see you're still in pain." She had a slight frown on her face.

"I'm sure. I- I don't want to be alone. Will you please stay?"

That was a startling revelation, and since she was acting so unlike her usual self, I grew a bit more curious as to what had caused her change.

"Okay. I'll stay as long as I can. Can I get you anything?"

She smiled weakly, saying,"Yes. You can get me out of here."

I smiled in return, or at least I thought I did, but I wasn't sure after I saw her expression change to blankness again.

"Joe..." she began, but stopped.

I just looked at her, waiting for her to continue.

"Joe- I have to say this. I really do. And- Well... After what happened to me last night, I've decided I didn't like the person I am." She glanced at me, expecting some smart remark, but when I kept my mouth firmly shut, she continued.

"I thought I was dead when I saw all the blood coming out of me. I saw you move toward me and...Please, Joe, come in and sit down. I don't want half the hospital listening."

I shook myself out of my stupor, feeling like I'd been in some sort of trance up until that point. Amber's change of attitude had really thrown me off-step.

I walked in and sat down in the chair that was next to Amber's bed.

She looked steadily at me, as I looked back at her.

"You really don't like me, do you?" she asked.

Considering her question for a moment, I shook my head in the negative. Deciding to be truthful, I replied, "It's not as simple as that, Amber. I don't like what you've been doing to me and Shela all the years we've been married. You've been a major contention more often than not, and it's made things very difficult between myself and Shela. I don't know what you think I've done to you, but apparently you believe I've wronged you somehow. So, two things...I don't like how you've interfered in my life with Shela, and I don't like you as a person because of that."

Amber turned away from me, but before she did, I thought I saw her eyes glistening.

"I'm sorry you feel that way. I didn't mean to butt in. But..." she began.

I waited a few seconds for her to continue, and when she didn't, I prompted her. "But...What?"

She turned to face me again, but for whatever reason she couldn't hold her gaze and dropped it. She looked down. She started to say something a couple of times, before she looked at me with tears in her eyes.

"I don't know how to say this. I guess the best way to say it is straight out." Taking a breath, Amber continued. "I thought you were going to break Shela's heart. I thought you were going to cheat on her." Seeing my sudden anger, she said somewhat soothingly, before looking away again. "I know. You've been true blue. I know that. Now. I didn't before. But, I seriously thought you would."

Her gaze swung back to me. I saw such intensity in her eyes that it reminded me of the blinding beam of a light house piercing the dark of the night.

"Joe, I need you to listen to me. What Shela did to you is my fault. Not Shela's! I'm not saying this because she's my friend. I'm saying it because it's true. I made a horrible mistake and Shela was caught up in it, which then made you a part of it. If it hadn't been for my mistake she would have never done- uh- what she did. I need you to believe what I'm saying. Please! Joe!"

I sat back at Amber's words. I didn't give a shit why Shela fucked around on me. The fact is she did. It was now obvious Shela thought I'd cheated on her, and thought she was getting revenge on me. It was also apparent, one of those two dodo bird brained women somehow figured out it was a mistake. Some mistake! But, what Shela did is unforgivable, in my book.

"I see. Well, Amber, as I now understand it- when Shela thought I cheated on her- " I held up my hand to ward off Shela's response, "She went out and fucked some asshole then sent me the video of her betrayal. Now, that she's come to realize your mistake, she sent you to intercede on her behalf. To explain that it was nothing but a misunderstanding on her part. And that she wants forgiveness and for us to work through this little mistake of hers. To become a couple again. Is that right?"

I didn't scream. I didn't yell. I didn't even slightly raise my voice, yet, Amber flinched at each of my points.

Rather than vocalize her answer, Amber nodded.

"So, why is it when she thought I was cheating on her, she didn't give me the same consideration that she is now asking of me? Oh, that's right...She made a mistake, based on your mistake. So everything is supposed to be honky dory now."