29 comments/ 36603 views/ 0 favorites It All Comes Out In Therapy By: c8er2u AUTHORS NOTE: So, this is a story I wrote eons ago, first chapter edited by T_G_B, (thanks so much btw!) and have lost my direction on it. And my hope with this story is that you all will help me find my way with this one cause it's actually one of my very first stories ever written. One I'd love to finish! So, here's the deal, umma post the first chapter here, if it gets a good reception, I'll post the other couple chapters I have written. anywho, read, comment, vote! C8ER2U Even as she sat in her car clutching the steering wheel, knuckles straining under her skin, willing herself to get out of the vehicle, her mind kept running back to her previous encounter with him. 'Get out of the fucking car Mel,' she told herself. Herself didn't move. She was late, and she was NEVER late. This was so unlike her ; the dependable, reliable person she was, but, then a lot of things lately were so unlike her. She looked up and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. "Shit," she said out loud, and then thought to herself, that's exactly what she looked like. "Mrs. Mayor? Is that you? I thought so!" Her thoughts were interrupted by the portly receptionist walking up to her car. This lady, however sweet she tried to be was still annoying as all hell. "Mrs. Mayor! We were waiting for you; we thought you were going to miss your appointment again. I think Tara can still squeeze you in!" She was tapping on the window as she spoke, as if she couldn't be heard though it. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep Tara waiting, I'll be in in a moment, I've just got to grab something from my car." All of which was said without looking at the woman. Mel knew this was rude, especially given the age of the lady on the other side of her window, but she just hadn't been herself in a while. "Okay... well, we'll see you inside then..." Mel watched out of the corner of her eye as the woman walked slowly back into the office, then closed her eyes. She took a deep exaggerated breath in though her nose and expelled it though her mouth. She repeated this until she felt her hands weakening their death grip on the steering wheel. Finally they slid off the wheel and she made her way out of the car. Grabbing her purse she hurriedly walked into the building. "I'm so sorry I'm late, traffic was treacherous! Is Tara with someone now?" "Yes, I'm afraid she is. But she can see you after. Just have a seat, it shouldn't be much longer," she said with a smile. Mel started making her way to the chairs when the door to Tara's office opened and she emerged with a smile, a middle aged man came out behind her, holding his hat to his chest as if it were the only thing keeping his heart inside. "Don't forget to make an appointment for next week with Jeril; I really think we're making good progress." He smiled weakly and walked to the receptions desk. Mel realized she was staring at the man and looked away. "Melanie? I was afraid you weren't going to make it! Come on in!" Tara waved her in, and Mel followed her into the office. The office itself wasn't very large but comfortable and included the standard therapist accessories; the bare- your-soul couch, the box of Kleenex, the framed degrees and diplomas on the wall, fake foliage on either side of the desk, but despite all of this, there was something in the therapist's eyes that made Mel comfortable. "How are you, Melanie?" Tara asked, sitting down in the chair opposite the couch Mel was only considering sitting on. There was so much going on inside her head. Could she trust this woman? What would her family think? What was she going to tell her, the whole truth? "Hello in there?" Tara said, waving a hand at Mel. "Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to be rude," Mel said, finally sitting down. "It's okay, happens a lot here!" Tara said, chuckling. "Okay, why don't you start by telling me a little about yourself? Why you're here." Mel shifted in her seat; suddenly the couch was completely uncomfortable. She looked over at the woman looking back at her. She was definitely pretty, with big blue eyes and shoulder length light brown hair that fell flatteringly around her face. Thin lips, a perfect nose and nicely shaped body though she was dressed plainly in a simple white blouse and a high waist grey skirt that nonetheless definitely hugged her in all the right places. Mel looked down at herself. Her own body could be described as fat in comparison to Tara's. Her own skin was a deep mochaccino color and even. Her breasts were much larger and from this angle, so were her thighs. She silently chastised herself for thinking this way. She took another moment to redirect her thinking and thought to herself, 'Why am I here???' The question kept repeating itself in her head until her response came out. "I've been cheating on my husband," was the response that fell out of her mouth. And after a long moment she added, "I've been cheating on my husband with a man who is inappropriate." She couldn't look at her therapist. She was staring at the plastic plant in the corner as the confession fell from her lips, her cheeks flushed at the embarrassment of her confession. When was cheating ever appropriate? She hadn't told anyone this. Not one person and the weight on her had at once lifted from the relief of telling another person. But this relief was short lived and replaced with the weight of what this woman would think, how she'd judge her and the implication of her words. "Okay, how long has this been going on?" Tara finally asked, crossing her legs. There was no judgment in her voice. "Um..." Mel looked around the room again, still not making eye contact. "It's been going on for a number of months now." Mel turned her body towards her therapist. Made herself look directly into Tara's eyes and say the speech she had perfected in her mind. "It started when I went to visit my husband at work one day. I met him there and things progressed." Mel took a breath and continued. "At first it wasn't physical, but it quickly turned that way. I found myself doing things with this man I would never, ever do with my husband." She paused because her voice was quivering, and she hadn't even noticed she was crying until she felt the drop hit her hand. She quickly wiped them away and cleared her throat. She continued, "Now he wants me to leave my husband, but I won't, I can't... I.... I... love...my husband." Mel was now clutching her own blouse with both hands and as the confessions poured out, more and more tears fell. "I need you to know that I'm not the type of woman, who... who sneaks around, and sleeps with people in sleazy motels and such but somehow..." Mel trailed off as the memory of their last encounter flashed through her mind. He bent her over the couch in his small apartment and ripped her stockings. She screamed, unprepared for his urgency. "Shhhhh, be quiet, you don't wanna wake the neighbors, do you?" he'd said. It was 2:00 in the afternoon, there shouldn't be any neighbors to wake, were her thoughts, but they were interrupted by the tearing of her panties right at the crotch. "Oh, wait..." She couldn't speak the words she wanted to say, that these were very expensive La Perla undies that he was ripping but it felt too good to have his hands sliding across her sensitive flesh. And while her mind was thinking, 'this is crazy, you have to stop this!' her hips were grinding back against him and his thick member was assaulting her insides in the most wondrous way. Mel snapped back to the present. "The reason I'm here," she started again, "is because I need to stop this behavior . This is so unlike me! I've never been this calculating, this manipulating, this...this...this.....liar!" Staring into Tara's eyes, she awaited her response. Tara simply leaned over to her desk, took off the box if tissues and handed it to Mel saying, "Melanie, why did you start this behavior? How is your marriage?" Mel chuckled bitterly at the question and turned her head away from her therapist, clutching and bending the thin box in her hands. Maybe it was time to come clean about that too. She wasn't happy in her marriage, and hadn't been for a long time. Mel thought back to their early relationship. When she'd met Rodger, it had been completely by circumstance. She had sat in front of him in her 3rd grade class and because of the alphabetical order of the class; he saw it as his right to terrorize the hell out of the back of her head. She couldn't stand his ass, and he made it his personal vendetta to make her feel that way. When they got older and Mel finally got breasts, boys naturally started noticing her. She, at the time was only interested in one person: Rodger Mayor. But that was a long time ago. A hell of a long time ago. They'd both changed, and even though they were still young people; Mel only 29, Rodger 30, they seemed more like an elderly couple. Rodger was passionate, and driven. He'd gotten an entry level position at a prestigious company but that was where the passion and drive stopped. He was barely ever home and when he was, he was completely unavailable emotionally. Even the sex was drab, when they had it. IF they had it. In the boardroom Rodger was known as a go getter; imaginative and creative. None of which applied to his lovemaking. All he ever did was climb on top, get his, and run off to the bathroom to clean up. Mel thought to herself sadly, she'd never actually had an orgasm with her husband. "My marriage with my husband is complicated. He's still trying to make a name for himself in the corporate world so he works a lot, which I understand." "What about your sex life?" "What about it?" Mel balked at her question. "Well, people have affairs for a lot of reasons, Melanie. But the most common is if they aren't being satisfied sexually in the bedroom. Hence my question." Mel knew the woman was right, Hell, she had known that before she came to her office but still she was surprised to hear her ask about it. To talk about it like it was fact when she barely thought of it as her reality. "Sex with my husband has become... more and more routine." "Go on," Tara gently urged. "Well, we've only ever done it in one way. And since he was my first, I've never known another way." "So this new person showed you other things, then." "Yes...yes he did." "Okay, why don't you tell me about him?" Tara asked, settling back in her chair. "Okay, here goes...." ****************************** Melanie looked sharp as a tack in her tight black and pink pinstripe skirt suit, her matching pale pink blouse buttoned down to show the slightest hint of the large breasts present underneath the top. Even as she walked up to the building in her skyscraper heels she could feel the eyes on her ass. She didn't care it was all her husband's. And she was determined to show him just how good it could be. She quickly took the steps and was surprised by the sensation of air hitting her naked pussy. She was on a mission today: operation "fuck him senseless in his office" had commenced and she was going to see it through. "Hello Bob! How are you today?" she asked the security guard. He was a sweet old guy. "I'm good dear, looking for a visitors pass, are ya?" he replied. "Yeah, but don't tell him I'm coming, it's a surprise!" she said and winked at him. "No problem!" he said, winking back and handing her a badge. She smiled and walked over to the elevator where there was a man trying to get his badge to work on the door. He was hunched over, repeatedly slapping the badge at the sensor which was not picking up anything. "Here, let me try." Mel said. She bent over and tapped her visitors badge lightly on the sensor and the elevator doors opened. "Thanks," he said, and walked onto the elevator. She walked in after him, not looking up at him at all. They rode in silence to the 43rd floor and both got off, going separate ways. Mel walked past the main receptionist, to the door of her husband's office. The desk outside of it was usually occupied by his secretary, but at the moment was empty. She walked into his tiny office but no one was in it either. She saw his friend Tom walk by and thought to ask him. "Hey Tom! Have you seen my husband anywhere?" "Melly Mel! What are you doing here? You never come by anymore," Tom said. She couldn't help but notice that he hadn't answered her question. "I just dropped by to see my husband, you seen him around?" she asked again. "Not since this morning, had my nose buried in financial reports all morning. But if I see him I'll tell him you're here!" Tom said, walking away. Mel stood there in front of his office, staring at Tom's back as he walked away. Something wasn't right, Tom and Rodger work extremely close together. 'He sees Tom more than he sees me,' she thought to herself. Right then she saw a door to her left open up out of the corner of her eye and turned to see Rodger's secretary walk out. She was about 20, and had a 20 year old body with a pair of very expensive breasts to match. Opal, that was her name. She wore an outfit not unlike Mel's own that clung to her body, except her blazer was undone, her blouse was untucked and her blonde hair was messed up in the back. 'Someone just got fucked' Mel thought to herself. And just as she was about to come out of her mouth and ask this woman where her husband was, he walked out of the room and shut the door. Melanie watched as he redid his belt, fixed his tie and turned to walk to his office. He stopped dead when he saw Mel, as he should have done because Mel was seething. "Mel! What... what are you doing here?" He was walking towards her, one hand reaching out to her. Mel started to back up. She didn't have any words. She bumped right into the secretary's desk. She found herself turning away. She wanted to yell at him. Scream, embarrass him the way he'd embarrassed her. But the words couldn't come; they were caught in her throat. Rodger grabbed her arm and pulled her into his tiny office. "Hold all my calls," he said to Opal as he shut the door. He walked over to his desk and leaned up against it, running his hands over his bald head. "It's not what you think," he said finally, after an eternity. Mel stood there watching him. Thoughts were running though her head at a mile a minute. She thought about killing him. Really considered it. She thought about picking up the letter opener on his desk and stabbing him though the heart with it. Too dull though, wouldn't give him a hangnail. She thought about beating him with the chair or knocking him out with a paperweight and then stabbing him with the letter opener. "It... it only happened this once, I promise. And it will never happen again." Mel looked at this man, tall dark and handsome. He was her forever and ever, her happily ever after. The fairytales never said anything about this. "It would have been eight years this spring," she started. "No fuck that, I've been with you for 15 years! Never, have I ever-" she cut herself off. Her voice was beginning to escalate. Tears were gripping her throat. "We can work though this Mel. I messed up, but we can fix it." "You broke us!" she screamed so hard at him her voice cracked. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, looking away from her. "You're sorry," she stated, advancing on him. She was unbelievably angry. And empty. Like she'd just lost a huge part of her. "You're sorry?" she asked, standing in front of him. His eyes were still looking down. She grabbed his face tightly in one hand and squeezed. She turned his head to face her. "You're sorry?" she yelled the question at him. She was digging her nails into his stubbly cheeks. He wasn't stopping her. "Yes," was all he said. A single sob escaped her throat as she released his face. He reached for her but she swatted his hands away and backed up. "Don't you dare touch me!" she cried. She walked over and snatched her purse up. "You broke us; you broke 15 years of us, for her. Well you can have her! I..." she was walking towards the door. "I hope you're happy!" she screamed as she left. All work in the office stopped and silence ensued. Everyone turned to look at Mel. She didn't care, no doubt they all knew, and if any of them didn't, they did now. She looked over at Opal sitting at her desk typing. The girl was shaking, stealing glances Mel's way. Most likely afraid Mel would hit her. "You," she said to the girl. Opal looked up from the computer screen at Mel. "How long exactly have you been fucking my husband? Huh? And just who else's marriage have you broken up?" Opal said nothing; just stared at her. "I could have sworn I asked you a question! You fuckin' Tom too? How about him over there?" she yelled, pointing to the skinny IT guy. "You fucking him too?" she asked, leaning in to the terrified girl. "Maybe I should do an office poll!" she yelled to everyone. "That's enough Mel!" Rodger said from behind her. "Oh I'm not finished," she said, spinning to face him. "I'm not even near finished, you son of a bitch!" She didn't feel herself lift her hand, only felt it smack against Rodger's face. He snapped it back to look at her with anger flashing in his eyes. Mel stood her ground. "I'm going to have to ask to you leave," she heard from over her shoulder. She didn't look back but she knew it was the security guard from this floor. Opal had probably called, that bitch. "Gladly" was her cool response. She turned quickly, walked past the main reception and slammed the glass door shut behind her. She flew down the hall, hands balled up in fists she didn't know she'd made and temple pulsing. She was beyond angry, beyond livid. She was at a new level of anger. This was pure rage that pulsed through her veins. She stopped at the elevator and stabbed her visitor's pass at the sensor. It, of course, didn't recognize her pass. She slapped it repeatedly with her pass with no luck. She could feel them coming. The tears were threatening to fall right now. She willed herself not to, bit her lip, clenched her teeth and took deep shaky breaths. She heard a voice behind her and turned away to let the person by. "Here, let me try" she heard him say. What a sexy voice, she found herself thinking. Given the circumstances, though, she thought it very inappropriate of her. She looked up at the man who was coming up beside her. He was handsome, young, Puerto Rican she guessed. He had long dark hair that kind of flipped out at the ends, and his eyes. God, his eyes were unlike any she'd ever seen! They were hazel, with yellowish flecks going through them. Her eyes travelled down his face past his nose to his mouth, which was smiling at her. She tried to smile back, but could only manage a half smile. His lips started moving but she couldn't hear a sound he made. Her eyes went back to his. After a moment she saw him wave a hand past her face and she snapped out of her trance. "What?" she asked. He looked at her quizzically. "Are you getting on the elevator?" he said chuckling. She realized he was holding the door open for them. "Oh," she said and walked on. He walked on behind her and began to speak. "So how did yours go?" he asked turning to her. He was only slightly taller than her, not at all like her husband who towered over her. She decided she liked that. His skin was the color of butternut squash. He had a nice body; he could tell through his fitted white dress shirt and black pants. He wasn't pumped, but she could tell she would like what she saw under his clothes. 'Why am I thinking like this? What's wrong with me?' her mind asked. It All Comes Out In Therapy Ch. 02 AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here's the second chapter. I really doubt this story can be salvaged, I mean I'm jumpin around, switchin narratives and stuff, it's just not my best work. I tried to make it current, but well... tell me what you think though! C8ER2U The thought of returning to her house, their house for anything longer than 5 minutes turned her stomach. So instead she went out shopping. With her husbands credit cards of course. Thinking back, Mel remembered what he'd told her upon handing the cards over: "Melly, these are strictly for emergencies." He knew how she was with money, so he knew the speech wasn't necessary; she wouldn't use the cards. She had her own job and her own money she could spend if she needed. So the cards were sitting in her wallet collecting dust. That is, until this morning, when she found him balls deep in his secretary. Now, she could think of no better emergency than this By the time she figured she was finished, she'd nearly maxed out two of his cards on anything she could find that either fit well or might fit well. She really didn't try too much on. It was at this point she decided to call her sister and tell her what happened. She was sitting in her car, bags stuffed in the trunk and backseat. "Hello," her sisters' sleepy voice came on the line. She was head nurse at a local hospital and sleep was a rarity. As soon as Mel heard her voice she immediately began sobbing. "Melanie? Is that you? What's wrong? Where are you?" came the barrage of questions from her sister. "I'm okay Melody, I'm on my way over right now, I just needed to hear your voice," Mel cried into the phone. Melody was her younger sister. They'd always shared a close bond, even though they fought like cats and dogs growing up because they were so close in age. At only 2 and a half years apart, they'd ended up sharing a lot of things over the years. From toys, to boys. Although Melanie had only been with one person, Melody was the opposite. She'd dubbed herself a connoisseur of the male forum, and never held back when it came to her explicit sexcapades. They were night and day and that's most likely why they're so close. "Honey, what's wrong? How far away are you?" "I'm near your house, Rodger cheated on me with his secretary; I bought those Christian Louboutins we liked. You know the knotted ones? I spent so much money. I don't care, it's his money. Actually it's visa's money. I didn't want to go home, because everything in it is his. So I bought new clothes." "I'm outside of your house now" There was silence on the phone. She was parked out front of her sisters home, head on the steering wheel cell phone to her ear crying when she heard the tap on the window. Melody was standing on the driver's side, cordless phone in hand and a look on her face that said I'm so sorry. Mel opened the car door and fell into her sisters arms. "I know baby, I'm sorry." *********************** For Mel to show up at Melody's door was surprising. To have to comfort and console her was even more so. Melody was always the wild child, the party girl. Not the responsible one. Yes she had a great job that she loved at The Yellow Bow Children's hospital, but that was as dependable as she got. Melanie was the one who held her when she cried violently after their father died from prostate cancer when she was six. She was the one woke her up for school in the mornings, because her mom had to work two jobs to make ends meet. She was the one who threatened to kill Keisha Patterson when she'd told melody to meet her after school. She'd been there for her, her whole life. And now that the tables were turned, she didn't know what to do. She'd brought all the bags in the house after she'd practically carried Mel inside. She called in and got a friend take her shift, and opened the bottle of grey goose she had in the back of her fridge for situations such as this. "So tell me everything," she said to Mel sitting down two shot glasses in front of them. They were sitting in her small kitchen in the breakfast nook. This house, unlike Mel's was small. Very small. But it was hers. It was decorated with love; the colors on the walls were warm contrasting colors in greens and purples. Her kitchen was her favourite spot though. Although it was small the windows were big and in the early mornings when the sun was just peeking over the horizon streaming sunlight across the earth, it made its way right into her small kitchen and, it seemed, right into her mood. Now, she sat across from her heartbroken sister, and whished the sun were rising. Wished she could give her the happiness that sight gave her every morning. "If we had only been together, a few years," Mel started, pausing to take her shot. "Maybe it wouldn't hurt so bad." Melody said nothing just waited for her to continue. "I have never been so humiliated in all my life. Do you know I had no panties on?" she added, staring into her sisters eyes. "Why?" melody asked. She'd never known her sister to be the type to go commando. Mel dropped her head into her hands and wiped them over her face. "Because I was trying to work on our marriage. On our non existent sex life. But it turned out he was already working on it." Melanie poured herself another shot, downed it and poured another. "I'm gonna need more alcohol," she said dully, taking her shot and pouring yet another. "You should slow down, that stuff is hard, it catches up to you," Melody said a look of concern on her face. "I don't care," she said holding the shot glass up to her face. She brought it level with her eyes and starred through it at her sister. Then, tipping her head back, she let the fiery liquid slide down her throat. "Okay, maybe we should do something. I took the night off we could go see a movie, or go to one of those plays your always trying to drag me to. I think it's poetry night at jay jay's, or-" "I don't wanna do this," Mel said cutting her off. "I don't want to sit in your house and cry, and I don't want to watch some dramatic poetry, or an unfunny movie. I want to go out. I want to put on one of those dresses I bought. One of the ones Rodger would hate because it showed off too much. And I want to put on what mama would call hooker heels, and I want to dance like I'm not married." Melody looked at her older sister. She was starting to show evidence of the alcohol. She was leaned back in her chair, head tilted back, lids heavy and pupils slightly dilated. Most of all she looked to be stricken with sadness. Her happy brown eyes looked bereft and empty. "We can do whatever you want," Melody said. She'd do anything to make her sister happy at the moment. "In that case," Mel said sitting up and pouring herself yet another shot. "Grab my bags, we're gonna turn this city upside down." **************************** Three hours later, she was sitting in a bar she'd never heard of before, completely over dressed, in a black marc Jacobs cocktail dress and sky high Louboutins. She looked like a million dollars, but felt like barely 20. She'd planted herself at the bar. Her sister, who'd brought her here, was off being a social butterfly. Over the last hour or so she'd fought off many drunks, who told her how beautiful she looked tonight, and so on and so forth. She'd stop them in the middle of their spiel, and as nicely as her current conditions could allow, ask them if they were going to buy her a drink; if not go away. Now, she was thankfully alone with her thoughts. So much time had been wasted on Rodger. She'd spent half her life with him. He was the only man she'd been with, her first everything, Including heartbreak. She'd sacrificed so much. Her own education, because Rodger got into the better school, she decided to put hers on the backburner so he could go. They had a plan, first he'd go to school, she'd work, then when they were in a better financial position, she'd go back. But now, whenever she brought it up to him, it was always an excuse. They had a mortgage, and car payments. No need to take on another expense. Now is not the right time. Now what did she have; a broken heart, broken promises, broken vows, a broken life. Everything she had was his. The car was in his name. The house too. She had a job selling art at a gallery downtown but the pay really wasn't much. Her thoughts were interrupted again by someone else. "So I saw you sitting here and was gonna use one of those, girl like you, place like this lines-" "But you decided against it, lucky me," Mel said dryly cutting him off. "Yeah, you look-" "Beautiful tonight?" Mel offered, cutting him off again. She was staring into her drink, not looking at him at all. "I was gonna say overdressed, but that too-" "Listen," she said interrupting him for a third time. "Let's just cut to the chase." "Right to the point, I like that in a-" "A girl like me is drinking in a place like this." "And quite a bit from what I can-" "Yes, you can buy me another," "Didn't know I offered too," he said quickly before she cut him off. "And lastly, no I don't want your phone number," she said finally, letting out a long breath. "But you have it already," was his reply. Mel turned to look at him. Her blurry eyes took a second to focus on him. He was staring at her, and she recognized those eyes immediately. It was her elevator guy. "Ah, you remember me now?" he said grinning. Mel just stared at him. He called the bartender over and watched as they conversed in Spanish. The bartender disappeared behind the bar and returned with a bottle of water. He set it down in front of Mel. "Drink it," he said. Mel looked over at the water bottle and then back into his eyes. They were still just as beautiful as she remembered. She took a second to look him over. His hair was pulled back away from his face. Her eyes roamed over his body. He wore a fitted black v neck shirt with black trousers. Black shoes. "You like what you see?" He asked. Her eyes shot back up to look into his eyes again. "Drink it," he repeated. "Believe me, you'll thank me in the morning." ************* "Have you been listening to a word I've said?" Melody looked at her friend. She really hadn't heard a thing. She was too busy watching her sister fight off drunks. "I'm sorry Kriss, what did you say?" Kriss shot a derisive look in Melody's direction. "I said, Emil wanted to see you. He would have been here tonight but the wife has a short leash on him. Not allowed to hang around anyone remotely attractive, no need for temptation to strike." "Jeez, one slip up, and you're labeled a cheater for the rest of your life," Rebecca added. Melody let her friends take over the conversation, and took the time to look them over. They were still living the party life, bouncing from club to club, adorned in nothing but the best. She looked down at herself, dressed in a fitted black tube jumper, created by some designer she couldn't remember at the time. She looked down at the shoes. The cheetah printed Mary Jane Louboutins. The shoes her sister could count on never seeing again. For a fleeting moment she looked over at Mel and thought about bringing her over, but decided against it, remembering what she'd asked for when they stumbled into the bar. "I'm going to the bar, please; if you love me don't hover." So, instead of hovering over her while she drank more than a high school football team, she sat behind her watching like a hawk from a distance. "Melly," she sighed watching her scowl into yet another drink, while a man tried in vain to talk to her. "How do I fix you?" she wondered aloud. All the school, the crying babies and blood hadn't prepared her for this. How, she thought ruefully, do you fix a broken heart? ***************************************** "Have you ever been in love?" "Yes, I'm sure many people have been." Mel was still perched on her barstool, whishing she could sit still. And not be so drunk. She took the water bottle and began to drink from it. "I wish I never knew it. I wish I was one of those people who never had it in their lives. I wish I never fell in love. Love is a lie. A horrible, terrible lie. Propaganda. That's what love is. Propaganda." "Love can be many things. Painful is one of them, but there is another side of love," he said leaning in closer. "Oh yeah, it's all a part of the propaganda. See it all sounds good at first. Wait till your 15 years in. When you're comfortable, and safe. When you feel like there is no one else but him. Just you, and him and love. But it will change. Somehow, you start to see things that you missed before. And before you know it, it's just you and him. And the love is gone. Propaganda." He raised one eyebrow at her statement, and then looked thoughtfully at her. "I don't think that's what propaganda means." "It doesn't matter, because sooner or later you'll be where I am today. And when it happens, you'll understand it." He opened his mouth to speak but she stopped him, putting her finger to his lips. "Listen." Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted, her right hand was at her heart. He didn't recognise the song at all. She began to sing it. "Love don't live here anymore! Just a Vacancy, love don't live here anymore." He watched her feel the music. It was like it spoke for her; every so often she would "mmmmm," just feeling the song. When she sang it, the words came from a place he presumed love used to live. "When you lived inside of me, there was nothing I could conceive, that you wouldn't do for me. Trouble seemed so far away. You changed that right away." Eventually, the song mixed into another, and he waited for her to speak. "It's amazing how a song written over 20 years ago can still hold so much truth, huh." "Do you wanna get outta here? Go some place quiet?" he asked. "I can't leave my sister, she's my sister I have to... where is she?" she asked herself, scanning the room. The alcohol had definitely caught up to her because the room was spinning. She couldn't find her sister, besides, everything was sideways. She began to panic. "I wanna go home!" she said. Tears were gripping her throat and fears tiny fingers were beginning to crawl its way up her spine. He saw the look on her face and was going to reach out for her when another woman came up between them. "You okay?" Melody asked holding her sister up. "Are you okay? I couldn't find you. I drank too much." Mel leaned into her sister, resting her head on her shoulder. Relief washed over her. She was okay. Not kidnapped, or murdered as her irrational mind had presumed. "I'm fine, I was right behind you sitting with a group of friends. I was watching you the whole time. You wanna take off? I'll go flag a taxi." "No, no, no. I'll be fine." Mel said straitening up. "I'll take a cab home, by myself. You go back to your friends, enjoy this night out! You look gorgeous, and I'm not just saying that because I love you. Go, have fun!" "I can't just leave you Melly," "Oh yes you can! I'm fine. Besides, how often do you get a night off?" Mel could see the hesitance in her eyes. "Please Melody, for me. Just go have a good time. Please." "Okay," Melody said relenting. "But call me as soon as you get home, and in the morning, I'll take you out for breakfast." Melody pulled her into a bear hug, and kissed her on the cheek. Releasing her, she walked back to her friends and Mel slowly made her way towards the door. Once she got outside, the cool air had a slightly sobering effect on her and she leaned against a light pole trying to flag down a cab. "Taxi!!" a deep voice yelled from beside her. It was him again. A yellow cab pulled up in front of them and he helped her into it. "Where to miss?" the driver asked. She almost gave him her address, but the thought of going home had her stomach flip flopping nervously again. Which really wasn't good considering its alcoholic contents. Turning to him, she looked into his eyes and got lost. "I haven't got all day , where we goin?" "I can't go home. Take me anywhere but home, I can't go back there," she said still looking into his eyes. He gave an address, and they took off. ************************* Franco Dominguez wasn't a stupid man. Many people could call him many things; tardy, irritable, sometimes mean, repressive, the list could go on and on. But stupid, was one thing he most definitely wasn't. He'd been an honour student his whole life, graduating summa cum laude from his very prestigious university paid for by full scholarships from years of very hard work. So he knew without asking that the emotionally disturbed woman who came flying past the receptionist desk, and him, slamming the glass doors so hard she could have broken them, was a liability. The fact that she was married, threatening secretaries in front of her husband, and then slapping said husband in front of the entire office, should have sent off huge warning signals in his head. DANGER! DO NOT ENTER! CAUTION! CONTENTS UNDER PRESSURE! Everything rational within him said to ignore this woman and to go on about your day, your life, and just forget about her. But there was something in her eyes, the way she stared at him, like she was distressed and he was riding a shining white horse. She had the audacity to look at him, eyes rimmed with unshed tears as if he, could save her. He could barely save himself, but he knew he couldn't help it. He had a condition. A weakness. A pattern, if you will. His kryptonite, was a woman in need. His last relationship was with a younger woman. She'd had two boys she was raising, with special guest appearances by a dead beat dad. He'd stepped in, served as a role model to her kids, and treated her like she deserved to be treated; like a queen. But she was always waiting on the other shoe to drop. And when it hadn't, (not from his doing) she'd dropped him, stating she was getting back with her children's father. It was for the best, never mind the fact that the bastard had beaten her almost to a pulp when they were last together. After that, he'd given up on love, on saving. He'd pulled his figurative life raft out of the water, and didn't care how many fish went belly up in the sea. He was done. That is until he saw her. And now as he helped her out of the cab, his eyes were fixed on her. She was without question drunk, looking around trying to recognize where she was. When she turned to him, her dark brown eyes travelled slowly up his body, finally reaching his gaze. He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol, but her eyes made no effort to hide her emotions. What he saw was unbridled lust, fear, and apprehension. "What's your name?" she asked reaching out to him for stability. "You don't remember my name?" he asked smirking at her. She began to slowly run her hands up his arms, causing a tingling sensation, to crawl under his skin down his spine. "You never told me your name," she said looking at his chest now. He took the chance to really look her over. She looked gorgeous. She was just the way he liked his women, thick in all the right places, great tits, small waist, nice round hips, and a perfectly round ass. "Francisco Dominguez, Franco," he said leaning into her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Call me Franco." Realizing they'd been standing outside at the curb for a while now, he began to usher her up the walkway to his front door. He was fumbling with his keys, trying to unlock the door when she spoke. "I can't sleep with you," she stated staring at her feet. Franco opened the door, flicked on the hall light and pulled her inside. Holding her close to him, he tilted her face up to look at him. She avoided his eyes as she spoke. It All Comes Out In Therapy Ch. 02 "I have never cheated on my husband. He's the only man I've ever been with." Her voice quivered with emotion as she said the words. He watched her, saw the tears building in her eyes, the anger and hurt in them. All he wanted to do was kiss her. Actually, he wanted to do much more than that. Still holding her, he pulled her into a tight hug, his lips teasing her earlobe. "We came here to talk, if you want we'll do just that, nothing more," his mouth said. The rest of his body was telling a different story, patently reacting to having her in such close proximity. Her body was pressed tightly against his, and his hands were freely roaming over her though her dress. "I don't know what to say," she said into his chest. Reluctantly, he released his grip on her, pulling her away so he could look at her. Her eyes still held a mixture of emotions. Something painful seemed to be the most prevalent, dominating her thoughts. "Who broke your heart?" he asked staring deep into her eyes. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something deep within him called out to this woman. They barely knew each other, but there was a connection. Something told him to hold on tight to this woman and never let her go. She stared at him for a minute, and then the dam broke. She told him everything. Her relationship with her husband, the cheating, they're lack of sex, her job, her passion for art, in all forums. Franco just stood holding her, listening. She told him how she wanted to go to art school, how she wanted to travel the world and experience different things, cultures, food, People. She told him her dreams, the ones forgotten about because they had no place in real life. Dreams like, running away to the place where her family traced her roots back to. She wanted to go there and paint the beauty she only saw in pictures. "Why don't you just do it? What's stopping you? Baby, there's a whole big world out there, just waiting for you. You don't wannna wake up one morning, old and full of regret do you?" She stared into his eyes again, he found himself tracing his fingertips along her jaw line. "No," she whispered leaning in closer to him, still staring into his eyes. "I don't want to regret anything." It All Comes Out In Therapy "My what?" she finally asked. "Your interview? Isn't that what you're here for too? I know mine was terrible. I hate interviews; I always mess up, say the wrong thing. I get too nervous. How about you?" he asked. His electric eyes stared into hers, she had to look away. She couldn't hold his gaze. "Bad," she said. And left it at that. "I figured as much, the way you were going off on that visitors pass!" he said, laughing now. His laugh was easy, like, warm water . It washed over her and she found herself smiling back at him. Even with what had just happened she found herself smiling. The elevator doors opened in front of them, and he stuck out his arm and said, "Ladies first!" She walked out into the main foyer and over to the security desk. She handed in her badge thanking the heavens that Bob was on his break. She couldn't handle talking to him right now. She turned to walk from the building, and had got through the doors and was walking down the steps when she felt someone grab her arm. Thinking it was Rodger she prepared herself to fight like hell. She ripped her arm from his grasp and spun around to be greeted by her elevator friend. "Whoa! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, mama!" he said holding both of his hands up in front of him. "I'm sorry, I didn't think that was you," was all she could say. "Why don't we go grab a coffee? We can lick our wounds together." She didn't think he'd meant to, but the word "lick" seemed to be saturated with innuendo. She looked at his mouth again and he was smiling again. He had a beautiful smile, perfect white teeth, full lips that seemed to be inviting her to suck them into her mouth. "I can't," she heard herself say. He put on a fake frown and grabbed his chest. "C'mon, don't do me like that!" he said, smiling. She realized she was standing entirely too close to him "I really can't," she said, backing away. "Well, at least give me your number," he said, closing the distance between them. She backed away again and said, "I can't, but I'll take yours." He smiled, and she thought, this man is going to get me in trouble. She had no idea how right she was.