15
Jul
08

Consequences When Love Is Blind by Linda R. Herman

Consequences When Love Is Blind ISBN-10: 0979975751 ISBN-13: 978-0979975752 Author: Linda R. Herman http://www.lindarherman.com Publisher: Xpress Yourself Publishing http://www.XpressYourselfPublishing.org This book is available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Borders, and everywhere books are sold!


Chapter 1 With the receiver plastered to my ear, I couldn’t believe what Andre was saying to me. It was our seventeenth wedding anniversary and he was calling to tell me he had a late meeting with a client. We wouldn’t be able to go out and celebrate as planned. I would have to call and cancel our dinner reservations. Disappointment rose from deep within, lodging in my throat. “Are you sure you can’t reschedule?” I pouted, not wanting to cancel our reservations at Chez La Vous, a popular upscale French restaurant that I had to schedule reservations six months in advance, and here he was telling me that he couldn’t make it. I planned for us to enjoy a nice dinner followed by a late night drive, and then an intense night of lovemaking. “It’s the only night he is free, Sade. I’m really sorry, baby. We’ll have to celebrate another night.” He apologized, yet again. So angry, and unable to muster a sound above a whisper, I said, “Okay,” before he told me again he was sorry and that he loved me. Damn it, I didn’t want to hear his apologies. I wanted to hear him tell me we were going to spend our anniversary together, as we’re supposed to do, and as we’d done for the last seventeen years. Placing the phone in its cradle, I solemnly headed upstairs to take off my evening gown. I didn’t need it just to sit at home and watch TVLand. George and Weezie didn’t care what I was wearing. “Why tonight?” I asked rhetorically as I dragged myself into my bedroom. I didn’t want to celebrate our anniversary some other time. I wanted to celebrate it tonight. We were married on June 15th, not the 16th or 17th. I knew how important his clients were to him but who wouldn’t understand a man being with his wife on their anniversary? Stepping out of black three-inch heels, I unzipped the gown and watched it billow down around my feet. Lazily, I picked it up and hung it in the closet, and sighed heavily. Staring at the dress, once again, disappointment knotted my stomach. I really wanted to show off my new dress. It was black and black is beautiful. It fell just below my knees and I looked great in it. At thirty-five years old, five-six and one-hundred forty-five pounds, I looked damn good. I didn’t have the pouch that some mothers couldn’t get rid of after having babies. Doing several crunches a day was how I maintained my flat tummy. My breasts were full and my hips and butt were curvy. Only wearing a red, silk thong and a matching bra, I admired my body in the full-length mirror. “Andre, how can you pass up on this? I was going to put it down tonight,” I said as I gave myself a pat on my full, firm bottom. “I know what I can do!” I yelled excitedly. Taking off the bra and thong, I pulled out a long, black trench coat from the closet, and slipped into it. I stepped back into the black three-inch heels. If Andre couldn’t come to me, I would go to him. I was determined to make sure our anniversary was memorable. With excitement building inside me, I rushed down the stairs to the kitchen and grabbed the basket of wine, strawberries and whipped cream that I prepared for our after dinner treat. Wearing nothing but a trench coat and heels, I slid behind the wheel of my silver Lexus and drove to Andre’s office. “When he sees me in this trench coat, in the middle of June, I’m sure he’ll get the hint and end his meeting ASAP!” I said to myself, as I peeled out of the driveway. In all the years of our marriage, we never made love in his office and I was looking forward to blowing his mind. When I pulled into the parking lot, Andre’s black Porsche was the only car visible. I guessed his client hadn’t made his first big vehicle purchase yet. Andre represented players in both the NBA and NFL. A lot of them purchased fancy sports cars and big houses before the ink dried on their newly negotiated contracts. I guessed this one was very new and hadn’t gotten around to that just yet. I took the elevator to the fifth floor, to Andre’s office. His secretary’s desk was empty. I wasn’t surprised. Tarilyn normally didn’t work late when Andre had after hour’s meetings with clients. She normally had all the paperwork prepared prior to five o’clock. Andre often bragged about how great of an assistant she was and had been for the past few years. We both liked her a lot. I left the basket with the wine and strawberries at her desk. Approaching Andre’s office, I noticed that the door was closed. Now, why was the door closed after hours? Standing in front of the door, and just before I knocked, I heard noises that caused me to stop, with my hand in mid-air. “Is that all you got? Come with it!” an unfamiliar male’s voice said. “Can you handle it? How about that?” Andre teased. Both sounded out of breath, panting like a couple of dogs in heat. This can’t be what it sounded like. As rage built within me, I didn’t knock on the door or even reach for the door handle. Before I knew it, I raised my leg as high as I could and kicked the door wide open! Gasping and covering my mouth, the door bounced off the wall, slowly winding down to a partial closing. The scene before me was horrific. My husband had a young man bent over his desk, with their pants down around their ankles. My legs weakened. “Oh God! Oh God!” I screamed to the top of my lungs. This had to be a nightmare. My husband wasn’t gay. The man I married, the father of my kids, would never touch another man in this way! Never had I suspected him of anything close to what I was seeing. What had I done wrong in my life to deserve this? Andre quickly withdrew from his lover and pulled up his pants. The young man was so into their disgusting lovemaking that he didn’t realize I was there. Finally, he made eye contact with me and exclaimed, “Oh shit!” “Sade…,” Andre said, walking toward me, fastening his pants. I raised my hand, stopping him in his tracks. I didn’t want him near me! I looked at the young man and yelled, “Get the hell out of here! Get out of here now before I kill your ass!” He tried to pull his pants up while running toward me, and the door. He fell but never stopped moving, quickly scattering toward the door before rising to his feet. As he passed me, he said, “I’m sorry, Ma’am. I’m so sorry!” I didn’t know who he was or even if he played basketball or football. He probably had a girlfriend who, like me, didn’t know he had a boyfriend. He’s a pretty young boy of no more than twenty-two, with a light complexion and dark wavy hair. I couldn’t tell for sure how tall he was since he was ass up over the desk and then running and falling down. “I can explain,” Andre said, with all the nerve in the world. Peering at him with a clamped mouth and fixed eyes, I yelled, “What’s to explain? I just caught you fucking another man!” “Lower your voice!” he said in a hushed tone as if it were during business hours. “Who’s going to hear me?” I asked, looking around. After a few moments of silence, he said, with a heavy sigh, “I’m not gay, Sade. I was just trying something different.” Folding my arms across my chest, I tilted my head to the side. “Not gay?” I asked in disbelief, with a raised brow. “What else is it called when a man fucks another man, Andre?” I anticipated his response. It took every ounce of restraint I had not to pick up the first thing I got my hands on and knock him in his head! “He’s gay!” he said pointing at the empty doorway. His lover, like Elvis, had left the building. I didn’t know how he arrived or how he left, but I did know for sure that he was gone. “He’s the one who gets turned out. Nobody is going up in me.” He patted his wide chest, like Tarzan. I couldn’t believe my ears. Andre was an intelligent man. He couldn’t be so naïve that he only defined gay as the man who played the bottom role. I don’t care if you’re the fucker or the fuckee, when two men had sex, or two women had sex, they are both gay! I gathered the words to a question I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer to. “Is he the first?” I tightened the belt around my trench coat. I felt stupid for driving over there wearing nothing but damn high heels and a trench coat. This night would definitely be memorable but it wouldn’t be because I was the one putting it down, that’s for sure. He lowered his eyes and stared blankly at the floor. That’s when I realized I’d been living in the dark. He’d been living a double life and, as always, I, the wife, was the last to know. I sighed deeply. “How long has this been going on?” I’d been so stupid! “I was curious in high school but I didn’t start experimenting until college,” he admitted without looking at me, the coward. “It’s nothing I do all the time, Sade. Sometimes I just want something different,” he had the audacity to proclaim. I threw my hands up in surrender. “It’s different,” I sarcastically said as I turned to walk away. That much I couldn’t argue. A gay relationship was definitely different. “What’s with the trench coat?” he asked before I exited his office. I stopped abruptly and massaged my temples. I felt a headache coming on, because I couldn’t stand the sight of him or the sound of his voice. If I didn’t get out of there, I would kill him, even if I had to do it with my bear hands. I spun around, unloosened the belt and opened the coat wide. I allowed his eyes to roam over my nakedness because his hands never would again. “This is what you didn’t want,” I snarled. “Can we talk about this?” he pleaded as I closed the coat and tightened the belt around my waist. “We’re going to go and get tested for AIDS first thing Monday morning. I don’t care what kind of meetings you have. Cancel them,” I ordered as I walked out of the office. But, before I took another step, I turned to face him. “Don’t even think about coming home tonight unless you want me to cut your dick off and stick it up your ass. Now, that’s something different!” “I’m not gay!” he continued to yell as he followed on my heels. I stepped inside the elevator. “Don’t say anything about this, please!” he begged as the elevator doors closed. The tears threatened to fall but I couldn’t give into the pain, not yet. Whom would I want to tell? I’m a beautiful woman who caught her husband fucking another man. What did that say about me? Was this my fault? Was I not woman enough for him? As I’m walking off the elevator, the fuckee was in the lobby, sitting in a chair, looking pitiful. He jumped up to run toward the door when he heard the click-clack of my heels. “No need to fear. If that ten-inch dick didn’t hurt you, neither can I.” I pulled my keys out of my pocket. “You may as well go back up there and finish up. He’s not coming home with me.” “I’m sorry about everything, Ma’am. I really am,” he said with a thick Latino accent. He looked black, mixed with Puerto Rican. Even in my anger, I couldn’t deny that he was very attractive. Like Andre, he exhibited no signs of being gay. Then again, what were the signs of begin gay? Did I even know? I wasn’t mad at the young man. He’s not the man I married seventeen years ago. He didn’t father my kids. I didn’t lie beside him every night never suspecting that he was gay. No, I wasn’t mad at him at all. Actually, I pitied him because he was one more black man who was too afraid to accept and admit to his sexuality. He was one more black man who would marry and father kids but would always have that taste for something different. Every now and then, he would be a fucker or a fuckee but never admit that he was gay. “Good night,” I said to him, as the look in my eyes expressed the sadness in my heart. I was sad for both of us. I left, not caring if he returned to Andre’s office or not. I didn’t care what they did to each other. I hated what Andre had done to our marriage. How was I going to explain this to our children, family and friends? Everyone thought we were so in love; I thought it too. I really was in love. For seventeen years, we lived a fairytale life. Everything was perfect until Andre went and fucked it up with a nasty, unhappy ending. I loved him but I couldn’t stay married to him. I couldn’t pretend like my eyes played tricks on me. Through amber-colored eyes, I saw my husband having sex with another man. I would be a fool to put myself at risk by staying with him. It was shame on him when I didn’t know. Now that I knew, it was shame on me. In my mind, the disgusting scene played over and over, ugly images of my husband loving another man. And, the smell of two men that permeated the air made me sick to my stomach. “God, please let the results be negative,” I silently prayed as I pulled into my driveway, determined the next step would be to the clinic. It was hard enough to swallow the fact that my marriage was over but the worse case scenario would be receiving positive results. It’s a death sentence and there’s no undoing it. How dare he determine my fate? Who did he think he was, God? When I made my way upstairs, I fell on my bed and cried myself to sleep as darkness blanketed the room. This was not how I planned this evening.


0 Responses to “Consequences When Love Is Blind by Linda R. Herman”



  1. Leave a Comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s


Click a date for updates

July 2008
M T W T F S S
« Jun   Aug »
 123456
78910111213
14151617181920
21222324252627
28293031  

EDC Creations Virtual Tours


%d bloggers like this: