I've always despised that age-old celebration referred to as Valentine's Day. I thought that it was just another avenue to swindle consumers out of their money.
Nevertheless, I grew to tolerate it because of Ethan, my boyfriend of three years. He was the romantic one, not me. At dawn today, I awoke to his ritual of feather-like kisses on my arm. Moaning peacefully, I turned to him and smiled, "Good morning."
"Good morning my love," he cooed, showing me those gorgeous dimples. Unexpectedly, he slipped a magnificent ring on my finger and proposed. Excitedly I accepted and he fucked my brains out. Regardless, I still believe that cupid can suck a cactus!
When I awoke hours later, he was still asleep. Silently, I ambled to the bathroom, then left the house to collect a file from my office. Today was that utopian festival and the store proprietors made sure that everyone knew. Ugh, I couldn't wait for this ridiculous revelry to be over with.
On my route back home, I sped down Sydney Drive to cut my arrival time by twenty minutes. When I pulled into our driveway, I sprinted up the stairs and silently unlocked the front door, going inside.
"Honey, I'm home," I whispered with a chuckle then strolled into the kitchen. Retrieving a bottle of wine and two glasses, I sauntered towards our bedroom and paused. What greeted me were loud grunts and sexual cries, coming from our bedroom, "What the fuck!"
Arranging my things on the side table, I quietly opened the door. What I expected to see was Ethan watching porn. Instead, I found him with his tattoed hands wrapped around my best friend's throat, as he savagely fucked her.
Whilst she was on all fours bouncing on his penis, I stood there observing them, stunned. Without faltering, he noticed me in the mirror's reflection and smirked. Lost in her passion, Carrie never knew that I stood there, and she exclaimed, "Ah fuck, Ethan, yes, yes, harder, please!"
Snickering, he asked her, "Do you like that, baby?"
"YES! Oh my God, Ethan! You make me feel so damn good," she moaned breathlessly, "FUCK ME HARDER, PLEASE. OH GOD, BABY, HARDER. I'M CUMMING," she cried out.
"Yes, that's it, lover, cum for me, scream my motherfucking name," he professed, however, his gaze was on me. Moments later he climaxed with an electrifying roar.
"Agghh fuck, oh yeah, Carrie. Yes, just like that, twirl your hips," and he emptied his seed in her. Swiftly, he pulled out and flipped her over, devouring her cum filled cunt. Her screams of passion resonated throughout the room as she opened her legs, yanked him nearer, and thrust wildly into his mouth.
"Mmm, that was delicious," Ethan exclaimed. Soundly, he slapped her cunt and they both sat forward, that's when she noticed me and balked.
"Bianca!" she uttered fearfully, and she tried to hide her face behind Ethan.
"Carrie!" I sneered. "It seems that you had a marvelous time."
"It's not what it looks like," was her muffled response.
"Oh really? And what does it look like, Carrie?"
"Well, I came to get my shoes, and when I was about to leave..."
"Shut up Carrie, no more lies, we are telling her the truth," Ethan barked at her. Turning to me he declared, "I don't love you anymore, Bianca. I love Carrie. For months, I've tried to end this fucking relationship with you, but you were too blind to notice the signs. I never wanted to propose to you today. Nevertheless, I did it with the expectation that you would have declined. But you shocked me and accepted," he declared with scorn.
"If you wanted to end our relationship, Ethan, all you had to do was be a man about it and speak up!"
"I was never interested in speaking up, Bianca. I WANTED YOU TO LEAVE!" he shouted.
"Leave? This is my house!" Carrie's laughter brought my focus to her, "Why would you do this to me, Carrie? What is wrong with you?"
"Me? Nothing's wrong with me, Bianca. I'm perfect. I found the man of my dreams and I'm happy. It's you who was the problem."
"You are so disrespectful, Carrie. You both are. Flies will always be attracted to trash," I declared calmly. "Get dressed and get out of my house, Ethan. And take your garbage with you." When they didn't move, I got closer to the bed and she quickly sprinted off.
"Get back into this bed, Carrie. I'm not finished with you," he cautioned her and she slid back beside him.
Turning to Ethan, I asked, "What did I ever do to you, huh?"
"You're defective, Bianca. And I don't need you anymore. Carrie is pregnant and we are getting married. So I'll be needing my ring back," he admitted.
Gaping at these two people who I would have gladly given a kidney if it was required, I began to laugh hysterically.
Sneering, Carrie disclosed, "Yes, my dear. Soon, I'll be, Mrs. Ethan Thornburg. Carrie Thornburg. It has a nice ring to it, don't you think, Bianca?"
Numerous times I'd heard him call me defective when he discovered that my menstruation had come or the pregnancy test was negative. Chuckling, I said to them in a calm tone, "I'll give you until the end of the day to pack your shit and leave. When I return, you shouldn't be here," and I turned to leave.
Just as I retrieved my bag, I heard him call my name, and I paused, "Happy Valentine's Day, darling," he said and they cracked up.
Enraged by his arrogance, I grasped the bottle of wine from the table and launched it at him. Being the linebacker that he is, he evaded it and Carrie was hit. The bottle struck its target with an impact, but luckily it didn't break.
Striding to the bed, I watched as the blood began to pour from her injury, and I chuckled. "You better call an ambulance before she passes out, dear," I said with faux concern.
"I'm calling the police, bitch! Look what you have done to the mother of my child," he shouted with fury while holding the blanket to her injury.
"It's a free country, Ethan, do what you must," I said dryly then grabbed the bottle off the bed and droved to my beach house.
~|~
Six blocks before my turn-off, I decided to stop at a bar and ordered a drink. Clasping my trembling fingers around the glass, I took a sip and commented, "Those two deserve each other."
Just as the glass touched the coaster, I heard someone ask, "Why the long face, my dear?"
Turning my head towards his voice, I swallowed the burning liquid and muttered under my breath, "Oh, my goodness," and boldly inspected him. This man was exquisite, with a full head of silvery hair and a blue, body-hugging three-piece suit. His eyes were the color of the Caribbean Sea, and his facial hair was immaculately trimmed.
"Have we met before?" I questioned him with a slight scowl. Then it came to me, "Oh fuck!" This was the guy who'd nearly collided with me a year ago, today. He'd been driving between lanes and when I saw him approaching me, I blared my horn and he swiftly pulled away. I came to a screeching halt beside a ridge and screamed. Petrified and trembling, I positioned my head on the steering wheel and wept.
The gentle tapping on my window brought me out of my confused state and I observed a tall man standing there. Asking me to bring the window down, he hunkered and initiated an apology, "I'm sorry, dear, are you okay? It happened so fast. My coffee fell on me and I was blotting my pants," he explained as I noticed the evidence and his penis print.
We spoke for a few moments until I was composed again and then I took off. That night as I lay in bed, I suddenly recalled the blood stains on his cuffs and when I related to Ethan, he indicated that the man may have been injured.
~|~
Returning my attention to him, I discovered that he was also examining me. Quickly, I dropped my gaze to his crotch and mumbled, "I believe that my day has been using me as a prototype for the rest of humanity."