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    Salerion
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Deer in Headlights - 3. Three

This will conclude (for now) the story. Fasten your seatbelts - it will be a rough ride.

Still driving, still crying and sobbing pitiably - no doubt sounding like a wounded animal if anyone were close enough to hear it - I mentally follow the rest of the path that leads me to this particular bit of road:

When, eventually, both of them strolled into the living room, they were surprised to see me but shockingly non-apologetic about the whole thing. Both of them - still naked, covered in sweat and reeking of sex - told me in so many words that nothing had to change. Everything could remain as is. All I needed to do, apparently, at least in their view, was to keep calm, act like an adult and ‚get over it‘. Oh, and not let Dave’s partner in on the truth, apparently.

It was almost funny. I had not spoken a word so far. I just sat there as they babbled on. After they ran out of steam, my reactions were indeed very calm and controlled. It was as if an icy serenity and focus had taken hold of me. I got a first glimpse, then, of what grandma must have meant when telling me to trust my gut. This was not a moment to back down and be meek. I stood up and faced Dave first:

„Shut the fuck up, take your clothes and then get the hell out of this house. I never want to see you again. Move!“

I was a bit surprised by my own assertiveness and, judging by David’s reaction, so was he. He stared at me wide-eyed, gulped, hastily got dressed and left without another word… Something in my voice must have made quite the impression.

My ex was next. I carefully removed my wedding band and placed it on the coffee table.

„There is no need to discuss anything. I want a divorce. I want my share of this house. I don’t care if you can buy me out or if we have to sell it. Except for my personal stuff and documents, you can keep everything else. My lawyer will be in touch to discuss any other issues that may come up. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll collect my stuff and then go and find myself a hotel room.“

I make an effort to focus on my surroundings enough to perceive that I am driving through some wooded area now. Some shafts of sunlight break through the tree crowns here and there. Normally, I would drive more slowly and open the windows or stop and take a stroll. I am not in the mood for a stroll though and, according to the satnav, I am still a ways from my destination and I am anxious to get there, so I keep driving.

Once I left the house my ex and I had made our home so many years ago, I never looked back. That was when the auto-pilot really kicked in:

I got a hotel room, lawyered up, made plans to uproot my life and got everything rolling, quit my teaching job. I had no clue where to go from here, but I needed to get away for a while.

So I booked the first flight out of here in the morning which happened to be the one to Toronto. Next, I searched the web for getaway locations in Ontario, booked a remote cabin in the middle of nowhere, a rental car, bought some stuff I thought I would need and called my best friend, Lydia.

I smile at that memory. I had half-expected some variant of ‚I told you so‘ from her. Not only is Lydia my best friend, she has been around the longest. We met in college and she was the first person I came out to once I realized I was gay. Typically for her, though, she had already suspected.

Ever since Lydia and I met, she has proved to be a true friend. Always in my corner, rooting for me and cheering me on. She never quite warmed up to my ex, though. I guess that was part of the reason I had confided in Dave when it came to my troubled marriage. I felt he was less biased. What a fool I had been!

„Mark, honey, you know I love you, right? But you do realize that you are running away? Why give him that much power over your life? I mean, I totally get the pain and the desire to distance yourself, but why should you move somewhere else? Let him find a new place.“

Always the more rational one in our friendship, but very sympathetic otherwise, she was probably right. But I just did not know what else to do.

I still do not know what to do, exactly. That is why I have to get away, put some distance between myself and … Tim. This time I force myself to think his name. Pointless to turn him into some kind of evil He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named overlord in my mind. My mind jumps from Harry Potter to The Labyrinth: ‚You Have No Power Over Me!‘ - I guess Lydia’s remark had been spot-on.

Somehow, I become aware of large eyes looking at me from the road ahead. I am instantly wide awake and totally in the present. All ruminating past events is put on hold at once. At the same time, I can feel the world slow down until it seems to me like a stop-motion animation where you can almost watch each individual frame at your leisure.

Vaguely understanding that I am about to crash into some sort of animal, I try to swing the car around to avoid collision. Apparently, I overdo it. Realization hits me that I have lost control of the car which is now headed off the road at full speed. The animal just stands there gazing at me wide-eyed as I fly past it. I recognize it as a whitetail buck.

„I hope at least the animal is safe,“ I mumble to myself before all goes dark.

So, this is it.
As I said in previous comments, I planned this as a stand-alone short story. In it, I wanted to explore betrayal and dispair and how one might react to that.
I thought about continuing the story itself, but decided against it. I am quite happy with the way it is now: A momentary glimpse, a sort of freeze-frame of where Mark is at right now - literally down on his luck.
I made up my mind, however, on writing some sort of follow-up. So, eventually, we will learn more about his fate. It may take me some time, but I do have a couple of ideas.
At any rate, thank you very much for reading the story so far. Please let me know what you think!
Copyright © 2024 Salerion; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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