BILLET-DOUX ✦ CLASSIC ROCK

32 - bill wyman

Requested by ilovethebeatles101 !
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Summer had come early this year with a humid May leading into an even more sweltering June. It was unusually dry, the season lacking in its typical muggy rain showers, and it wasn't long before the ground became cakey dust beneath your feet. Sidewalks crumbled, suffering under the dry air, and buildings were weathering away under the harsh gaze of the overhanging sun.

You were fortunate enough to have a swimming pool in your backyard that you retreated to during miserable months like these. The sun was much more bearable when half of your body was dipped in cool water, and you found yourself wandering outside nearly every day to take a dip.

When you and Bill had bought the house, its expansive property painted pretty pictures in your mind of a peaceful playground for your future family. You had brought up the idea of having a pool, somewhere to be when the heat grew unrelenting, and Bill made your wildest dreams a reality with a mere snap of his fingers. Nearly a year later and there was an in-ground paradise for you to enjoy.

It was a place for you to bury your troubles while Bill was away and, occasionally when he was home, he'd get in the pool with you. Oftentimes, he'd just sit by the water's edge, watching you have fun and waving off your invitations for him to join you. Though it could be disheartening, you learned not to read into it too much. It was a huge victory to get Bill outside in the first place nowadays, as he was always immersed in his own world, experimenting in his studio or relaxing in front of the television.

Recently, you had given up trying to convince Bill to join you. He barely said three words to you between breakfast and dinner and, even if it broke your heart in the beginning, that sadness had quickly waned to bitterness. You hated the thought of your relationship crumbling so easily, like you'd built it upon sand from the start. But you couldn't believe that.

You weren't one of Bill's groupies that found your way into his bed. You had met before the Stones had ever gotten big, in a grocery store where everyone was a nobody. Back then, Bill was just another guy. He was sweet and charming, gazing at you with soft brown eyes and plenty of sarcastic quips at the tip of his tongue. But the most you could get out of Bill now was a nod of the head, his eyes closed to you.

Bill always returned to your bed every night and he woke up with you every morning. He seemed content with you. Or disinterested. You couldn't tell. Gone were the days when you and Bill would talk for hours over the dinner table and stay up through the night sharing kisses and dreams of the future. Did Bill not envision you in his future anymore? Was he having these same talks with someone else? A pretty groupie, perhaps?

Thoughts like these only forced you out of the house and into the pool for a longer period of time, holding your breath underwater until you grew dizzy and wishing, for a brief moment, that Bill would come rushing out to check on you. Countless times you puffed your cheeks and squeezed your eyes shut, feeling like a child sitting criss-crossed at the bottom of the pool waiting for someone who wouldn't come.

Today was no different. You had marched out of the house early in the morning, leaving Bill to watch football, sipping on his coke without a word. He barely glanced over at you as you stepped outside, unbothered. Anger flared in your belly and you got the sudden urge to run through your backyard, run until your house was a mere dot on the horizon. Would Bill care then?

You didn't think that you would have the stamina to run that far without passing out somewhere in the woods and, by the way Bill was acting, he'd likely leave you there and wait for you to come home yourself. With a huff at the mere idea, you stomped over to the plastic chairs decorating the side of the pool and tossed your towel aside. The sun was beating down with a ferocity already, causing perspiration to prick up on your forehead and neck.