Sunday, March 20, 2016

The Fire In His Eyes: Questions | Part 2

I didn’t see Daymon again until the next morning. While making coffee and frying bacon he walked in the door. Maybe it was the hypnotic smell of hickory-smoked bacon and premium roasted coffee that brought him through my door. Just as quietly as he left, Daymon returned the same way. I was having awkward feelings and thoughts on how to approach the situation. Should I ask? Should I just forget about it and push it to the side?

From past experiences with my physically abusive husband I knew to ignore a problem only makes a bigger problem.

Daymon had disappeared into the shower. I missed his strong body holding me last night. I didn’t sleep well. I knew I needed to know what was going on. But my body just wanted him to hold me and tell me everything was going to be all right. That what I saw last night was just a ‘thing.’ To be honest, I didn’t want to know what was going on. I just wanted my Daymon back. I needed his strength to complement my lack of. I was so deep into my own thoughts I almost let the bacon burn. Removing it from the frying pan, I went into the bathroom with Daymon. Needing his warm eyes, those strong hands to hold me and not even say everything was back to normal, but just give me a confirming look. I needed reassurance.

Like a chess player contemplating moves, I went back and forth between creating a subtle segue into the events of last night or just leaving it alone. My flesh won out, as I eased into the shower with Daymon holding onto him ever so tightly in silence.

Glad I turned the stove off before heading into the shower with Daymon. We started in the shower and ended up in bed basking in the warmth of satisfying togetherness. His strength overtook me, rendering me incapable of speaking let alone questioning him about last night. A part of me tugged at my common sense, demanding an answer, or an explanation. I gave in to the tug as it was seeking freedom only obtained by the truth about last night.

“Daymon about last night…” was all I could get out before his once loving warm eyes turned cold. “Baby leave that alone. It’s taken care of. So don’t concern yourself with it anymore, alright?” “But you were gone all night. Where were you?”

That was when I felt Daymon create an imaginary wall between us. He was standing his ground, and I was made to feel like I was out of place for asking such a thing. Without another word, he got up, put his clothes on and left. Daymon walked out my door the same way he came in, silently. All I could do was cry.

Saturday, March 19, 2016

The Fire In His Eyes |Original Short Story

By LaTease Rikard

He was the best. Courteous, handsome, kind, funny and unpredictable all in one. We met at the supermarket, me going out the door dropping a bag of fruit, him coming in the door seeing this beautiful woman in a vulnerable moment. Maybe the reason I dropped the fruit was to continue looking at the Adonis headed towards me. All eyes on him! In a moment of weakness he saw me. Saw me for who I was, an awkward, beautifully shy woman seeing her soul mate for the first time. At that moment time belonged to him. I just happened to be a part of it.

Daymon and I began dating. The dropping of the fruit, him saving my apples from tire wheel death was the beginning of a love affair not to be forgotten. Within weeks we were spending time eating ice cream, enjoying movies and of course more supermarket runs. He wasn’t pushy or demanding, just a man more comfortable in his maleness than I’d ever imagined. His chiseled jaw and well-structured body gave the false impression of demand. Instead he was more along the lines of a gentle lion willing to die for his woman lest she ever be disrespected. Since moving in together, he assumed the role of a man that takes care of his woman. Taking the helm with finances, going to work, paying the bills and allowing me to spend my money on what I needed and wanted long as he was included in that shopping adventure.

In a way I was a kept woman, and loving every minute of it. His caramel brown smooth skin couldn’t reveal his age even if you guessed today, tomorrow and next week. At 55 he had lived a drug free, alcohol free life. Preferring to eat healthy, exercise frequently, and enjoy the simple things life offered. But his hands were what kept me coming back for more. Daymon owned a construction company, and his strong, hard hands were what I waited on every night he came home. Walking in the door his eyes sought me out to kiss and wrap those rough hands and strong arms around my body. We kissed like we hadn’t seen each other in weeks. Daymon was all I’d been looking for in a man. He was the real deal.

One night after leaving the gym, I saw it. His representative was on break, and the real Daymon appeared. Subtle at first, but when the strange man walked up to him in passing appearing to whisper something in Daymon’s ear. Maybe I was imagining things; the man quickly walked past us and gave me a deadeye stare. A stare so intense my heart fluttered from fear. Who was he? What secret was Daymon hiding?

“Baby what was that about?” I asked.
Daymon turned to look at me more serious than he ever had and lied to my face.
“Nothing. I’ll take care of it,” Daymon said.
“If it’s nothing then why do you have to take care of it,” I asked innocently. That’s when the monster appeared. As if this fire-breathing dragon had been brought to life by the innocence of a question, for the first time I saw a side of Daymon I did not know.

In an anger filled voice with fire in his eyes Daymon said, “If it was any of your business you would know about it. But since you don’t know about it, then it must not be your business!”
Those words would have incinerated my eyebrows had it been fire. At that moment I felt worthless to him, just a woman seeking permission to be in his presence. Silently he drove us home, opting to leave me at home while he left to “go take care of some business.” Of course, that business didn’t involve me. And I didn’t dare ask where Daymon was going.

{END OF PART 1} ©2016 LMR Publishing All Rights Reserved