Short Story #3

My Chocolate Rose

He meant everything to me, and I never got to tell him.  Imagine losing the one person that you held closest to your heart; the one person that no matter what happened you were not going to let go.  The pain shot through my body, almost as if someone took a spear and shoved it into my still beating heart.  I should have seen this coming; my rose colored glasses finally got in the way of the real problem.  

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At the local bar is where I met him; he was the best bartender I ever saw.  Swiftly and gracefully, he would reach for the most sparkling glass to pour my stress reliever in.  When I first saw him I no longer needed an alcoholic distraction; he fit the description of that quite elegantly.  I was lost in the sight of him and his heart pounding eyes.  They could not have been more dreamy even if they were made out of chocolate themselves; I could see right through to his soul.  Absolutely everything about his appearance was perfect; I I did not know any better I could have sworn he was carved directly out of stone just for me.  

Imagine a voice so deep and with a vibration that shocked every inch of your body; this smooth sound alone would put every being to shame.  He started with asking what I would like to drink, and my response seemed to entertain him enough to ask my name.  I am guessing that his was well aware of his appearance due to his seemingly unobtainable confidence.  Well aware that every women in the bar had their eyes glued to every motion he made and had their ears perked for every sound he spoke, he was always cautious about not losing his well configured image.  

One day, however, he had a lapsed in control, and that was when he first laid his gorgeous eyes on myself.  I could tell that I was getting special attention, something in the extreme abnormality, because the jealously in the room was almost tangible.  Being a curious being I suppose, he asked me why I was troubled.  Knowing the response that he wanted to hear, even if it was the truth or not, I told him through my lip quivering pout that my relationship had just ended with my long time sweetheart.  Seeing the side of his ever so perfect mouth slightly curve into a smile, only for an instant, made my heart pound with satisfaction that now he was wrapped.  The conversation that followed was the best one in my life, for I cannot remember it one bit.  All that reaches my memory is that the bar was closing, and he was carrying me upstairs.  

I awoke in the late morning was a strange feeling moving through my veins.  I tried to remember what happened, anything at all, even the slightest something would have put me at ease.  It all came running back to me when I sat up and peered through my cloudy eyes and saw the God himself leaning in the doorway, staring at me with those eyes of his.  He greeted me was his most precious smile, and brought me the best thing ever for the morning; coffee, plain old coffee straight from the pot. 

I remember thinking, foolishly of course, that he knew me so well, because everything thing he did it seemed as if he was reading my mind.  The way he did everything was so perfect; almost too good to be true.   I felt that he genuinely cared for me; he was not the kind of guy who would just use women because he knew he could.  The kind of power that he had over me, the spell that kept me his was too much for one person to handle.  To be honest, I was just looking for a guy to have fun with, not a guy to fall in love with.  We were destined for each other, and quickly realized that for the wedding took place only three and a half weeks after the night he swept me away off my too willing feet. 

Barely knowing him, or anything of his past, I vowed to be at his side; with him for better or for worse, in sickness or in health, until death do us part.  I know that he loved me, everything about him loved me, but I knew that I did not love him I only longed for him.  That is, until that night we were pronounced husband and wife. 

He was staring at me with his eyes of passion, a look that is only meant for your one true love.  The most simple, yet complicated, three words uttered from his lips with a whisper as he handed me my bundle of roses.  The red petals emitted their unforgiving scent into the air, and from that moment I was truly ready to tell him that I not only longed for him, but I loved him more than the heart can bear.   

I opened my mouth to say those words, and thats when the glass window shattered, along with my world.  My forgotten past plunged through the room, and with amazing speed it ruined my future.  The bullet from out of nowhere pierced my skin.  This was God’s way of punishing me for my sinful past; he was preventing a sinful future.  One would think to hear the sirens, or screams, but all I could hear was my husband’s voice pleading; all I could feel was his arms holding me; all I could smell was the roses, but most of all I remember that I never told him those three words, the three words that he would be waiting to hear from my stone cold lips for the rest of his life.