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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. 

Refugees - Prologue. Prologue

Prologue

 

It was 9 p.m. on a warm September night. Thirty-one-year-old David Griffin pulled up in the driveway of his house. Of course, it wasn’t just his now—he’d had his lover, Andrew Bradley-Horner, living there for some time.

 

He’d finally come off his shift as a nurse in the emergency room of a nearby hospital after working a twelve-hour day. He was tired, but he felt was in a diplomatic mood to deal with his boyfriend, Andrew. It’d been a rough weekend for them after David had asked Andrew to marry him and the only reply he’d received was Andrew’s vomiting on the front lawn.

 

David had done his best to nurse his lover, as did Andrew’s five-year-old daughter, Andrea. She barely left his side. There was still no ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to the proposal question, however. David knew why too; it was just as he’d feared this entire time. Andrew still had deep feelings for his ex-husband, Phillip. It had been an emotional breakup and Andrew had come to him late at night that past February, crying, freezing, and in shock. He’d known the relationship would be fraught with regret, but he dove in anyway, out of sheer loneliness.

All David wanted was to have a nice, normal conversation about where they were headed as a couple. Was it over or would Andrew finally accept the marriage proposal that sat on the table?

 

While all of these thoughts swirled in his mind, David noticed a glaring incongruity. Andrew’s van was gone. He glanced at the time again—9:05 pm. He bit his lip in thought. It was rather unusual for Andrew to be out so late without letting him know. He frowned and scratched his blond hair. Maybe he’s visiting his folks. Yes, that’s it. Maybe Janet and Tyler can talk some common sense into him. Marrying me is the best choice for him.

 

He shrugged off his doubts, put his keys away, and exited the car. The warm evening air was rich with moisture; it would storm soon. His body had started to sweat, even in just his ensemble of scrubs. He looked over his shoulder towards the street. Something nagged at him to look in the mailbox. The day’s mail was still inside. Curious, maybe he left to get Andrea before it came. He dismissed that as well and took the mail inside.

 

David didn’t notice that all of the lights in the house were off, save for the garden lights, which were on their own timer. He yawned and unlocked the door. The door creaked open, revealing the pitch black house. He quickly turned on the living room light. He looked around the corner into the kitchen.

“Andy? You home? Where are ya, hon?” No answer. Hmmm, guess he did go out. I wonder if he called or left a message. He walked to the answering machine and checked it. There were no new messages, nor was there anything left by it. His gut tightened. Maybe he left a note somewhere else. His eyes darted around; he turned pillows over, looked under cushions. His pace was becoming frantic. Wait a minute, why wouldn’t he just call me? He grabbed his cell phone and checked through his voicemail. Nothing.

 

Finally, David walked back to the hall table in the foyer and mindlessly dropped the mail. It slid forward, upsetting an item below it. A melodic “ding” caught his attention immediately. He dove to the floor and saw the promise ring he’d so lovingly chosen for Andrew. It lay on the floor. The man picked it up, looking suspiciously at the bauble in his hand. He clenched it in his fist. With his free hand, he furiously rifled through the papers on the floor. A mysterious sheet of notepaper caught his eye. It was a handwritten note. He skimmed it. The note itself was quite brief. He rubbed his eyes, thinking it had to be a trick. He read it again.

 

Dear David, I am so sorry it had to be this way. I appreciate all you did for me but I cannot be with you. I hope someday you will understand. Andrew.”

 

It was all too clear now. Andrew was gone, as was Andrea. He shook his head, unwilling to believe this was the end! David darted from room to room and saw that all of their belongings were gone too. It was indeed over. David clenched his jaw tightly as he crumpled the note in his hand. He fell back to the floor, sitting like a stunned animal. His eyes watered, but he angrily wiped them away. It was a feeble effort, they kept refilling.

“You… prick! You….”

 

David grabbed his cell phone and began to dial, but his thumb hovered above the “send” button. His hand shook as he stared at the number. Finally, he hit “cancel”. What am I gonna do? Yell at him? Threaten him? Beg him to come back? He leaned back and shut his eyes, in his mind a whirlwind containing scenes of the past few months. All of the sex, the dinners, the fun with little Andrea in the backyard. All dissolving right before his eyes. What the hell went wrong? It has to be Phillip! Dammit! He went back home to his precious Philly. How nice of him to leave me in the damn dust!

 

David slowly opened the hand which held the ring; he let the piece of jewelry fall to the floor. He clamped the same hand over his mouth; a wave of nausea swept over him like a tsunami. With the other hand, he hurled the crumpled note furiously into the living room; it landed on the loveseat. The same loveseat where Andrew had sat in a dazed stupor for hours on the night he and his husband Phillip had broken up. It was also the place where little Andrea would sit during movie night, and where David and Andrew would make out before heading back to their bedroom. Now, it was all just a memory….

 

 

Twenty-six-year-old congressional aide Robert Marshall was, once again, heartbroken. He’d just left the man he loved more than anything, Phillip Marnier. They’d lived together for months, but the feelings just wouldn’t come. Phillip was still in love with his husband, Andrew. Robert beat himself up for making the very sudden decision to try and get back with his first lover, which of course was complicated immensely by the fact he himself had been married, to an English chap named Cleve.

 

He played the scenes over and over in his mind: when Cleve found him and Phillip together, when they’d tried to make love but couldn’t make it happen, and finally when he and Phillip called it quits and Robert left him.

 

Not wanting to return to an empty apartment, he’d gone home to bask in the comfort of his family: of his parents, his twin sister, and his toddler brother, Luke.

 

His mother, Cassie, was always there with hugs and kisses. She could be a bit smothering, but now, he could use that.

 

The moment Robert arrived home, his father, Mark blew a gasket. The family attempted to stop him, but there was no calming down the hot-headed patriarch. Robert and Cassie tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen. He bolted out the door and drove off to the Marnier household to face down Phillip and admonish him for breaking his son’s heart for a second time. Robert and Cassie sat in Robert’s old room together. She held him while he sobbed and spoke of what might’ve been with whom he’d hoped was the love of his life. He also told her of how guilty he felt for what he’d done to Cleve.

 

Cassie calmed her son—she merely held him and listened, as they waited patiently for Mark to come to his senses and come back home.

 

A tense hour went by while they waited. They knew he had quite the temper and had a tendency to be a complete control freak. His mother wrung her hands constantly with worry. He noticed and grabbed them.

 

“Mom, relax. He won’t hurt anyone. He’s probably just really mad that Phillip didn’t keep his promise. To me or to him. I’m sure he’ll be back shortly.”

 

She nodded and looked up into her son’s eyes. “I sure hope you’re right, honey. I know how your father is. If someone’s wronged him or any of us, it’s personal.”

 

“I know.” He glanced at his luggage on the bed. “Well, better get unpacking. It’s highly unlikely Phillip will change his mind. He’s probably over at Andrew’s right now, making up with him.” He paused for a moment at the finish of that phrase. His eyes teared up, but he haughtily brushed them away.

 

His mother rubbed his arms. “Anything I can do?”

 

“No, Mom. Thanks. I’ll be alright. Got a lot of unpacking to do. Go be with that adorable little brother of mine, Luke.”

 

She pursed her lips and kissed his cheek, leaving a tinge of red behind. “If you’re sure, sweetie. I’m glad you’re home again. Missed you.”

 

“Missed you too, Mom. Just wish it hadn’t been this that got me to come back.”

 

They both nodded. Cassie walked down the hall to the playroom, while Robert began to unpack his clothes. A car door slammed shut outside.

 

Robert met his father on the front sidewalk. “Why did you do that? I can stand up for myself!”

 

“Really? What he needed was to get a right hook in the jaw! No one treats my son like that. I don’t care how old you are.”

 

Robert sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He shoved his hands into his pockets and cocked his head. “So, what happened, there Dad?”

 

“Nothing, don’t worry. No one got hurt, as much as I wanted to pound that smug asshole’s face into the floor for you!”

 

Robert rolled his eyes and hugged his father. “That wouldn’t have helped. I’m glad you didn’t get arrested!”

 

“Oh, he knew better than to do that! I’m glad you’re here, boy. You don’t need to be around that family.”

 

“I agree. Come on, it’s time for dinner.”

 

The two walked inside and sat down at the table. Soon, though, there was another guest—Robert’s twin sister, Serena.

 

“Robert! I knew it! I just knew it!” the woman cried. Robert stood up and approached his twin. She hugged him tight and ran her fingers through his hair. “What did that bastard do to you now?”

 

Robert shushed her, pointing out three-year-old Luke’s presence in the room. “It’s okay now, Sis. Honest. I left of my own accord. Phillip didn’t ask me to go.”

 

“He didn’t ask you to stay either, or else you’d be there right now. Oh, Rob….”

 

“Hey, relax, relax. It’s finished. He and I never worked out to begin with. It was all a hopeless fantasy. Okay?” He looked into his sister’s green eyes and he saw they were near the watering point. He kissed her lightly on the lips and hugged her once again. “Come on, let’s eat.”

Copyright © 2015 stephanie l danielson; 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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