Kate stood outside on the porch, wrapping the quilt around
her shoulders to ward off the chill of impending night. Dust
filtered through the setting sun, coloring the lake a rusty
orange. It was spring and the temperatures were beginning to
warm during the day, but at night when the sun went down so
did the temps. She shivered, grabbed her cup of tea and sat
on the old wooden swing. As she rocked back and forth and watched
the orange glow of the horizon, the memories slapped at her
like flies at a summer picnic.
Spring used to be Jack's favorite time of year. During the
rare occasions he had a weekend to spare, they'd travel out
here to the country house and sit on the swing, talking about
anything and everything. His job, the kids, what they wanted
to do when they retired. They'd made so many plans together,
counting the years until the kids were grown and off creating
their own lives.
The kids were gone now. Problem was, so was Jack. Only his
departure had been more abrupt. One day he was there, sharing
his life with her, and the next he was gone. Without any warning,
he'd disappeared from her life completely.
Her mellow mood vanished in an instant, replaced instead by
the cool chill that had permeated every day for the last five
years. And all because of Jack.
The sonofabitch. She'd go to her grave hating him for what
he'd done.
He'd made promises. Big promises about their future together,
sucking her into his dreams so easily, only to shatter her
illusions in one day. Now she was forty-five years old and
alone, and all those things Jack had promised her for twenty
years had meant nothing. They'd never enjoy making love in
the middle of the day because the boys were no longer there
to interrupt. They'd never sell their house in the city and
retire here in their country house. They'd never grow old together.
Empty words. Betrayal.
"You lied to me, Jack," she whispered to the breeze
swirling around her. "You promised me forever and you
didn't keep your part of the bargain."
Swiping away at the tears rolling down her cheeks, she summoned
up the righteous anger that always made her feel better. Screw
him! He'd left her after twenty years, destroying her dreams.
She'd long ago vowed never to hurt over him again. Better to
stay angry. Much more productive that way.
So why did she still dream about him at night? Why did his
face, his touch, still haunt her?
Because you can't let go.
She shook her head, refusing to dwell on him any longer. Jack
was part of her past now and the house in the city was up for
sale. One part of her memories would soon be gone. At least
she still had the country house. But it was too quiet these
days with the boys gone. Both Ron and JJ were off to college,
though they came home as often as they could.
They worried about her, she knew that. But she fought them
tooth and nail, insisting they make their own lives.
She was fine alone. She'd even reached the point where she
could spend weekends here at the country house like they all
used to. Soon she'd live here full time and could concentrate
more on her writing. The boys were supposed to be here this
weekend, but she insisted they stay at school for the big game.
Besides, the quiet solitude of the country would be good for
her muse. Maybe she'd be able to finish that book this weekend.
She stood and headed into the house, locking the door and
flipping the light switches off. She undressed and stood in
front of the bathroom mirror, shaking her head at how much
she'd aged in the past five years. Her face drooped like a
basset hound's, her hair hung long and stringy and the once
shiny auburn strands looked oily and dirty. She'd gained at
least fifteen pounds and felt every single one of them in her
belly, thighs and butt.
"What the hell do I have to look good for, anyway?" she
mused to her reflection. "I used to take care of myself,
worked hard on my body and my appearance. Did it keep Jack
in my life?"
The reflection shook its head.
"Exactly my point. No one sees me anyway." And
her sons loved her no matter how she looked, though they
did suggest
she get out more and away from her computer.
What they really meant was they thought she should find another
man.
The thought of dating anyone made her shudder in revulsion.
Never again would she put her trust in a man, only to have
her dreams of paradise ripped away when he didn't live up to
his promises.
She grabbed her pajamas and slipped then on, remembering the
days she and Jack would slip under the cool sheets stark naked,
using their bodies to warm each other. With a sigh she shut
off the light and climbed into bed, staring out the window
at the half moon shining overhead.
They used to make love while looking out this window. The
moon always had an erotic pull for her, reminding her of hot
and sexy whispered promises in the dark, warm, calloused hands
reaching for her breasts or between her legs, eliciting cries
in the night that she hadn't experienced in far too long.
Sexual re-awakening wasn't what she needed right now. She'd
long ago lost the urge to bring herself to orgasm, afraid the
memories would wash over her and she'd end up hating him, and
herself, for what they could have had together.
Kate quickly turned over onto her back
and stared up at the ceiling. "Damn you, Jack, will
I ever get over what you did?"
The darkness provided no answer. Not that she expected one.
No one had answers or explanations for why he'd left her. Only
the standard diatribes of these things happen and no
one can explain why, or give it time and you'll
get over him, and of course her favorite one of all.
. it's not your fault .
With a disgusted sigh, she squeezed her eyes shut and refused
to think anymore tonight.
Sleep, Kate. Turn your mind off. Maybe one day you'll actually
be able to get through an entire day and not think about that
bastard who left you.
Maybe one night she could sleep without the dreams haunting
her.
If only.
