Last to know

Last to know

A Story by Rose Masen
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When love shows it's darker side are we really the last to know?

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        This wasn’t happening. It was like one of those badly scripted soap operas, with a totally cliché storyline- you walk in on your best friend and girlfriend sleeping together, but not when they’ve already finished the act; completely in the midst of it- in your bed. Horrible? Obviously. Torn? Yes, but more than just emotionally. I was torn because I wasn’t sure what was angering me more quickly. The fact that they were in my bed, (considering the fact that Jackson and I lived together and he definitely had his own room, why not his?), the fact that Ellie was about to be my wife, or lastly, that they didn’t even bother to notice or stop what they were doing to notice me walk in on them. Shock above all else pulsed through me and I felt my face go pale. I was staring at the two most important people in my life, making love to one another- oblivious to the world around them. Jackson and I knew each other for so long we actually joked that we knew each other when we were in the womb still. Ellie was the only woman I ever loved- more than myself, more than my mother, more than my own life. My feet became cement shoes as I took in the movements of them both- it wasn’t just some sexual tension being released, it was emotional binding. There was so much movement between them, with so much meaning, each one tore into my every limb. The burning sensation in the back of my throat was set ablaze as Ellie whimpered his name with a passion so full of love, the shock that bound me to witness my worst nightmare, broke away ripping my attention back to myself; I backed out slowly with what felt like my last breathe, as I heard him whisper to her.

 “I love you, El”.

        This is some cruel joke.  No. It was a nightmare. Yes, a nightmare because I had been thinking about this happening for some time. I had seen how Jackson looked at her, he was always protective of her, but not like he’d been just recently. Ellie never showed any real reaction towards him, but again, recently she was very discreet about it. I caught her slipping a few glances at him when she thought my attention was elsewhere. Never did I think this would play out to something so painfully torturous. She was the only woman I ever loved. My first love- and I was 25. She held my heart captive by every vessel it was made up of; she ran through my veins profoundly. This was the woman with whom I was about to embark on forever with. 9 years later, a few bumps in the road, 2 splits, counseling, and a very rough (but worth it), reconciliation, but we were never stronger than we were now; or so I thought. Every kiss, every intimate touch, every ‘I love you’ pronounced, it seemed to mean nothing now. Everything we stood for, fought for, and the benefits we were about to embark upon seemed to take on a dark tone. They had lost their true, pure meaning, and now seemed so distant it felt as if this was a dream and I had just woken up because all of this, everything we built, was just a figment of my imagination. But it wasn’t a dream; it was a nightmare- my nightmare- stepping over the threshold of my reality; two worlds, two complete and separate entities intertwining into something extremely volatile.

 “Dude, you alright”? I vaguely heard my buddy Ian ask.

I couldn’t bear to tell him about what my eyes had witnessed. Slowly I looked up, and the pain in my eyes must have answered any lingering questions he might have had. He continued speaking, but with a sense of relief. The anger that coursed through me at the sound of his next words happened instantaneously, that’s when it clicked in my head.

  “You knew.” I spoke surely.

The look on his face was not one of trying to cover up what he had known, and what I now knew. I spoke steady with fury settling in my voice and tingling in my fingertips.

    “I’m so sor..” He began, but I jumped up with a quickness that seemed as if it didn’t exist.

    “What? Sorry? My best friend..MY BROTHER, is in there sleeping with my almost WIFE, and all you can say is sorry!? You were supposed to be my friend and you keep this from me!? Who else knows!?” I yelled through an almost silenced whisper.

     “Derek, I wanted to tell…”

       Ian was on the verge to spill when I interrupted him with a hand movement. I turned back around to stare at the door which protected my two betrayers’ and their deceitful act. Sharply, I spun around and stormed out of the house. I needed to go somewhere far, far away from him. What I was going to do when I found that place I wasn’t sure yet. Unconsciously, my feet moved at a pace quicker than my mind could compute where they were headed. My emotions were like crumpled pieces of paper torn from a notebook that had scratched out messages splayed across them. I kept my unconscious pace as I stormed through the crowds of people that were filling the sidewalks as they made their ways to their desired destinations. I shoved my hand deep within my pocket as I hit the automatic key switch to unlock my car doors. I jogged around to the driver’s side as I swung open the door and jumped inside immediately starting the car, throwing it in drive and taking off as fast as I could manage. The moment I turned left off of the street where my life shattered, it was as if my mind made its first successful attempt at computing.  At that moment my eyes released the first stream of tears. As each one slid down my face, it was as if my face was welting in every spot that they touched. Within a few seconds, my cheeks were on fire, my heart was yearning to stop because of its forceful beating, and my body was becoming weak as my mind replayed that very last image in front of me over and over again. I’ve never experienced the feeling of losing someone, but I had experienced love at its most precious and prime state. Usually things happen at different intervals. I’ve always heard people say, ‘bad things just keep happening’, sequentially, though, not at the exact same time. I guess I was the first one to experience different feelings, polar opposites at that, at the exact same time. Love, loss and betrayal. In this world of billions of people, at this moment, I felt as if I had no one. I was blank, no thoughts, just one vivid image and no intention of ever showing my face again to anyone, for anything. Without knowing, I kept on driving until I found myself putting the car into park as I pulled into my parent’s house, soon to be old house, as they were moving, and Ellie and I were buying it from them. They had gone out of state to finalize things with their new home; thankfully I still had my spare key. I cut the engine off and sat in complete silence as my mind became a working matter once again and replayed over everything, in intricate detail, that had just happened. As it came over the tormenting memory of what had just occurred, I involuntarily blinked my eyes, shaking my head slowly- making a failed attempt at trying to erase the memory from my mind. I yanked my keys from the ignition and stepped out of the car jetting for the back door. Roughly rummaging through the keys to find the correct one to open to door, I unlocked it and roughly shoved against it to make my way inside.

        The scent of the inside that wisped around me made me almost physically sick at all of the times as teenagers Ellie and I would sneak in and out, fooling around so my parents wouldn’t find out. The aura around reminded me of her scent- it was prevalent now. That mixed in with the recent memory, were burning together in my brain etching itself in permanently. As I mentally pushed myself further into the house I began to think of all of the early on memories. I could hear her giggles echoing the hallways, her faint sigh’s after we would lose all confidence in our plans of trying to persuade our parents to allow us to date so young. We were in love then, they knew it. It’s just that growing up in a strict household was an obstacle in any young lovers’ paths. Remembering the past made my present come crashing down on me roughly. Along with the reality came the truth; a house only has hallways, a home has memories. If memories form a home, love has to form those memories. And from what my eyes just bore witness to, there was no love. As my brain settled into a mere pile of ash from being burned so brutally, I hurriedly made my way up the hallway trying my damndest to scratch the surfacing remembrance of my fantasies of capturing moments in time of her, of us, of our future children- of our love. I avoided looking up at the bare walls as I imagined them intricately, yet beautifully, cluttered with those timeless photos. I could point out each specific space that would hold these pictures and it would be a reminder of my life being complete and utterly happy. Making the fatal mistake of looking up from my quickening feet cost me more than I would have bargained for. I wanted to yank my hair from its roots in hopes it would yank the cells in my mind with it that were forever scarred with an engraved reminder of my two favorite and most cherished people in the world betraying me. I was jolted to a stop in front of my old room door, in which my parents never changed, and I hadn’t used in years. Everything in there was the same as it had been since the day I moved out- her scent, her clothes from the secret sleepovers we had, and the memories; still fresh along with her scent. Whether it was a conscious move or not I wasn’t sure of as I made my move and turned the knob of the door opening up a new world almost and fresh wounds. The air was still, but it was still full of love as well. The love that once was, trapped in here from what seemed like a decade ago. Entrapped forever unwillingly or grasping onto any last remnants of what was and what could have been. It took a whole two baby steps inside of the room before the once gentle and welcoming aura closed in on me viciously scraping at my wounds, making me bleed out internally as I collapsed and tried to become one with the wall. The pain was too much to bear; I’d take a rusty knife to every nerve ending in my body. The loving memories faded; they turn cold and still. The love vanished; a deepening abyss into a soul turned black. Tears obstructed my vision, my heart ached profoundly, my being turned hollow and the buzzing in my mind moved in slow motion as it shut down at an alarming rate. My body was in an uproar, attacking itself yet defending, as well. I was growing tired, weak and succumbing felt as if it were the only thing left I had to offer. With the slowing of my blinking, my eyes becoming heavy, I sent a quick prayer up that if this would be the last breathe I take, then know I held no regrets; I loved one time in my whole existence, and lost love in the same lifetime. She might have only missed becoming my wife by 32 days, but she had been my soul mate since I was 16. Feeling myself slip, I gave in with one last notion. The pieces may be glued back together, but they still remain shattered beneath the surface. They may create a whole picture, but the picture holds nothing more than underlying pain that is the reality of who I really was. A ruined man, succumbing to loves darker side. Though it seemed I was left on the outside, I was reaping the consequences of her actions and in the end she was the last to know.

 

© 2011 Rose Masen


Author's Note

Rose Masen
First short story....


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Well, I must say that this is one of the best I've read lately. Especially when it comes to description and portraying the raw emotion of your character. You succeeded to be incredibly descriptive in the emotions without overdoing it. I actually didn't want to stop reading. It was simple, to the point, and yet complex at the same time! I guess I'm kind of suprised, although it's not because you're not a great writer. lol The only thing I would like to see is something BEFORE this happened. The ending of your story seems a little... harsh..dramatic? Can't find the right word. It seems to be an ending for someone who has a lot of emotional instability.. maybe some depression? It seems maybe he would be a troubled character? perhaps you could write a little more into this! I'd love to read it!

Posted 8 Years Ago



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Added on June 14, 2011
Last Updated on September 20, 2011
Tags: Love, Loss, Death, Last, to, know

Author

Rose Masen
Rose Masen

Somewhere around here, FL



About
I bury my inadequacies in my writing, and resurrect my confidence with my finished pieces. -Rose. more..

Writing
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