Breaking Her Bonds - 1. Story

Breaking Her Bonds

By Rose Strailo

My feet hardly make any noise as I pad down the stairs from the loft. Quickly finding the lighter and the candle that I had on a table at the bottom, I light the wick. Moving over to the fireplace, I build the fire back up to help ward off the chill of the night. The rain creates a soft pitter patter in the silence; and the gloom is broken by the soft flame that flutters as I walk.

Kneeling down, I put a new log into the fire, and a quick poke at the embers makes it glow brighter. Putting a few more logs into the fire, I stand up again to light some more candles; intent on just relaxing until I had to leave for my lawyers.

As I light the last candle, a flash of lightning illuminates the sky, making me turn my head towards the big bay windows. Shivering slightly as I step off the soft rug that covers most of the cabin, and onto the hard wooden floor, I make my way over to the windows to get a better look at the world outside.

Watching the rain drops slide down the windows, I can’t help but think back to the night that my world was not only turned upside down but ripped inside out as well. It was the night that I found that the mother of my beautiful children, the so-called ‘love of my life’, was quite able as well as willing to cheat on me.

When I had first met her, I had thought that she was nothing more than a child; a 15 year-old playing dress-up with her large black eyes and pixie-like face. She had thought of me as a girl due to my long hair, that she liked to call ‘fairy dust purple’. I suppose I did look like a girl at that age and stage. Our first impressions of each other were funny as well as embarrassing, considering we were the same age at that time; I having turned 18 a few months earlier.

Our first meeting had been accidental, to say the least. Like always, I had had my nose buried in a new book about herbs and didn’t notice her coming towards me. Waving to a friend over her shoulder, she hadn’t seen me either. We both ended up on the ground with her on top of me; our books scattered around us and my phone destroyed.

She may have had a childlike face, but I couldn’t help but notice the figure of a beautiful woman beneath it. We had smiled sheepishly at each other and picked up our stuff and all the while I had kept apologizing and asking what I could do to make it up to her.

“Take me out to lunch,” she had told me. And I did just that. We went to a little restaurant off-campus and ended up talking to each other for hours. I ended up missing my Business class and she missed her Art class, but we could have cared less.

We had started dating that day and I didn’t regret it then, and I don’t regret it now.

A crack from the fireplace makes me jump, dragging me out of my depressing thoughts. I turn and see the top log fall onto the other logs. Sighing softly, looking at my watch, I decide that I had time for a quick shower before I have to dress and make food. I had a meeting with my lawyers in an hour to sign the final copy of my will, as well as to discuss the divorce papers and I needed to start getting ready if I wanted to make it on time.

Grabbing a few unlit candles, I walk into the small bathroom adjacent the living room, right under the loft. Lighting the candles, I turn the shower on and shift through the small set of drawers, selecting some clothes. Setting them aside, I shed my sweatpants and t-shirt before stepping into the shower, shivering due to the cold water.

Quickly showering, my hair taking the most time to clean, I turn the shower off and grab a towel. Sweeping my hair into it, I grab another towel and dry myself briskly; my mind going over what I needed to do that day. Hearing the sound of thunder crash close to the cabin, I stop for a moment. Shaking my head, I purse my lips together before continuing getting ready.

Slipping into a pair of simple, black jeans and my favorite dove-grey dress shirt, I tug the towel off my head, letting my hair loose. As I let it fall down my back, I think of my precocious first born; my baby boy, Brandywine. He is a perfect mix of me and his mother. His hair and eyes are a few shades lighter, though. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with a shade of violet-red that Brandywine possesses. I know that when he grows up, he would be quite the innocent heartbreaker.

Shaking my head to get rid of those thoughts, I brush my hair, easily getting rid of the knots and tangles. Pulling my hair back, I braid it with a few simplistic movements. Nodding to myself, I softly pad out to the kitchen where I make a simple breakfast of coffee, toast and some bacon; not able to stomach anything more than that.

Cleaning up the dishes, I then walk around the cabin, making sure that the candles were put out, leaving only a few lit. Dumping wet sand on the fire to put it out, I finish the last of my chores. Someone would come later in the day to clean up the fireplace along with all the candles and the mess that I have left.

Grabbing a candle, I head to the door, where I grab my wallet and keys. Looking around once more, I snuff the candle out and put it onto a nearby table. Opening the door, I dash out to my car, the noise of the door slamming behind me muffled by the rain. Getting slightly wet, I slide into the driver’s seat with a happy sigh of pleasure.

Watching the rain dance its way down my windshield, I sit back in the seat and relaxe. A clap of thunder jerks me out of my thoughts, and I place my key in the ignition. My car starts with a sound of protest that is barely heard.

“Have to get that looked at,” I mutter to myself before turning on my stereo system. ‘Three Days Grace’ comes blaring out of my car’s speakers. I had forgotten that I was listening to this CD on the way up to the cabin the day before. Brandywine had begged and pleaded for me to get this particular one as it contained the song ‘Never Too Late’. He told me that the reason he wanted me to hear that song was because of the way that his mother and I were reacting to each other.

Shaking the depressing thoughts out of my head, I put the car into drive and head towards the main highway; paying careful attention to the curves and dips that I encountered. Soon, I am on the highway; the tires gripping the slick road with a precision that still blows my mind, even as the latter wanders to that fateful night.

I had planned on taking Maricha to dinner that night as an early gift for our anniversary since I had a business meeting in Italy on that special day. I had also planned on opening one of my father’s cabins for summer vacation. We had planned to leave two days after I had gotten back from Italy, but nothing had gone as I had hoped it would.

The babysitter hadn’t been able to come due to a cold, so I had decided on a night-in. Cooking had always been a passion of mine, and so I had made all her favorite dishes after putting the children to bed. The dishes had grown cold, as did my heart, while I waited for her to arrive home from work.

I had tried calling her endless times that night, always getting her voice mail. My text messages were also not answered. I had later found out that she had turned her phone off so that she could not be disturbed.

It had rained on that night as well, but it was much softer. It was as if the sky were mourning the love that was withering; as the seconds…minutes…and hours ticked away with no call, no text and no sight of her or her car. At one point, I had even worried that she might have had an accident or was stuck because of the downed power line.

I had used several candles that night; mostly to keep my eyes from hurting than for the light. I had the moonlight and I would have been happy with it, but my eyes had been bothering me for the past few days. The candles created a merry glow inside the living room, a room that we had decorated together.

I had barely noticed anything throughout the night as I had been too busy looking out the big bay windows; looking for Maricha’s car.

Her car had finally pulled up in the driveway at two in the morning. By that time, I had eaten, put the rest of the food away, and had had a glass of wine in my hands; the bottle settled in the ice bucket that we had gotten for our third anniversary.

My eyes had gotten dark and cold with disgust, while I waited for my blond haired wife. I had gotten a call from a wonderful friend of mine about twenty minutes prior to Maricha’s arrival. She had called to tell that she had seen my wife with another woman.

I had immediately called the credit card company to ask about the charges on her card. They informed me that she had booked a room for two that night. I had cried for about five minutes before my heart hardened and I reached for the bottle of wine.

Stopping at a light, I look around, noticing that I had driven nearly halfway to the lawyer’s office without noticing it. Sighing softly, I sit back and look around, waiting for the light to turn green. Seeing a small convenience store up ahead, I decide that I need a mocha cappuccino and possibly a muffin before I signed my will and filed the divorce papers.

As soon as I pull up to the small store, I reach behind my seat to find the umbrella that I always use. Opening it up, I step out of the car and head inside. It doesn’t take me long to get what I want as the store was empty due to the weather. Looking at the time, I cock an eyebrow in surprise.

“No wonder I’m hungry,” I say to myself, walking back to my car. “It’s nearly two.”

Getting inside the car, I sit back and eat my muffin. I wasn’t due at the lawyer’s office until four. This thought takes my mind back to that night.

She hadn’t bothered to deny it; couldn’t really deny it anyways. The smell of stale sex had hung around her, along with the subtle perfume of another woman. The words that night hadn’t been screamed, but were rather said softly, in cold voices. I think that’s what made them so devastating and hurtful.

I had called her a lying slut. Had she told me that she wanted to date another woman, I wouldn’t have complained. I was bi as well and after all even I looked around. I would have let our relationship be open to other partners; but since she had gone behind my back and cheated, I decided that I would divorce her.

She had spent the night in the guest bedroom. In the morning, I told our children that I had to do some things and that I would be back the next day. I had left soon after; going up to the cabin and making my calls in peace, deciding on what I wanted to give to her and what I wanted to keep. I did want to keep custody of Brandywine though.

Finishing off my muffin and mocha, I am once again on my way to the lawyer’s office. Soon after that I am enclosed in the office with the grey-haired male; going over the details of both my will and the divorce. A few hours later, I make my way home from the office, with a smile of satisfaction on my face.

Stopping at a light, I pull out my phone and quickly send an SMS to Maricha saying that I would be reaching the house in the next thirty minutes and that we had to talk about a lot of things. Shoving the phone back into my pocket, I look up just in time to see the light turning green. Pressing on the gas, I pull out into the interstate, seeing too late the car hurtling towards me at a dangerous speed from my left.

You know how they always say that you see your life flash before your eyes just before you die? Well, they are certainly right. My life did flash before my eyes.

The first time I told my father that I am bi….

My first kiss with another guy; it was sloppy and new, but it still blew my mind….

My first time with a girl in my bedroom….

My first time with a guy and the love that I felt for that man....

My first breakup, the excuse being given that he was expected to have kids and that he didn’t want to disappoint his family. It had hurt, but I understood and told him that I hoped we could stay friends….

The first time that I met Maricha….

The first time we kissed….

The first time we made love…

The time I found out that she was pregnant with Brandywine; the happiness and the joy we both felt at the news….

The first time I held that little boy in my arms….

The next two births after that; my twin girls and my youngest princess….

The first time I smelled another woman on her clothes….

The first time Brandywine gave Maricha his first herbal salve which she threw away in our room….

Then, nothing but pain, flying glass and the sound of crunching metal as the car slams into my car, shoving it into the car on the other side.

Nothing but the searing pain of something strong and jagged tearing into my skin, causing a warm wetness to rush from the ragged cut in my side.

Nothing but the disappointment of not being there for my children, especially my tiny son, who would be great one day.

Two miles away, a woman sat in front of a large screen television, a smirk on her blood-red lips as she watches the news coverage of an accident. She watched her husband being extracted slowly from the mangled mess that was once was a beautiful, custom-painted car. She lifts a cup of wine to her lips, sipping it slowly, enjoying the soft liquid as it courses through her body.

“Mommy, where’s daddy?” a little boy with lavender colored hair and violet-red eyes asks, walking into the living room. Taking her eyes off the screen and muting the sound, the woman smirks at her oldest child, her black eyes cruel and cold. She stands up and walks over to Brandywine.

“Daddy isn’t coming back anytime soon, baby. Now, I want you to go upstairs and pack. You’re going to your grandfather’s,” she says. Looking up, Brandywine blinks at her in confusion.

“Alright,” he says meekly before heading up the stairs.

“I won’t have a weak boy in my home,” Maricha purrs softly. “I’m just glad my girls don’t look like that man.” Walking over to her seat, she sits down and picks up her wine glass again. Laughing softly in a twisted way at the news, her eyes flash a dark blue.

“Yes, life is certainly looking up now that I’ve escaped the bounds of this marriage…”

© 2008 Rose Strailo

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